Thomas hesitated, the smile slowly beginning to fade from his face. “That is not quite as you think it to be,” he admitted, recalling how the plain-faced Miss Wells had rejected his request to dance with her. It had not mattered, he had told himself, for he had been able to find another young lady in a matter of moments but, all the same, her disinterest in him had stung a little.
“Ho!” Lord Henderson exclaimed, his face suddenly alive with interest as he leaned forward in his chair, fixing Thomas with his gaze. “You mean to say that a young lady refused to accept your company, Weston?”
Thomas immediately regretted saying anything to Lord Henderson, looking back at his friend with a good degree of exasperation. “It was of no importance,” he stated firmly. “Miss Wells did not wish for my company, and so I withdrew.”
Lord Henderson laughed aloud, slapping his knee with delight. “I can hardly believe this to be true!” he exclaimed, drawing the attention of one or two other gentlemen. “You, Lord Weston, have had your pride broken by the curt refusal of a young lady! What was it you asked her? Did you seek to call upon her? To go out walking with her?”
“Neither,” Thomas replied stiffly, seeing two other gentlemen drawing closer to them as though they wanted to hear their conversation. “I merely asked her to dance, and she refused me.”
Lord Henderson’s mouth dropped open in astonishment, his eyes sparkling with evident mirth. “She refused to dance with you?” he repeated, as if he could not believe such a thing to have occurred. “Tell me, Lord Weston, has that ever happened to you before this day?”
Thomas closed his eyes and let out a long breath, his jaw clenching. “If you would lower your voice, Lord Henderson, I would be grateful.”
But it was much too late. Lord Henderson’s exuberance had brought two other gentlemen to their part of the room, who now looked down at Thomas with interest.
“Good afternoon, Lord Henderson, Lord Weston,” said the first, whom Thomas recognized to be Viscount March. “I could not help but overhear – are you stating that a lady of the ton has refused you, Lord Weston?”
Fire lit his cheeks, but Thomas held Lord March’s gaze. “I do not think it is any of your business, Lord March,” he said steadily, although Lord Henderson’s guffaw detracted from his attempt at severity. “Although I would like to state that this was only a request for a dance that was refused, in case you think that a proposal, or some such thing, was the reason I now appear somewhat embarrassed.”
The second gentleman, Lord Wiltshire, shook his head and laughed, a grin spreading across his face. “I hardly think that you should fear that we would make some sort of error in that regard, Lord Weston,” he stated, making Lord March snort with mirth. “Everyone knows very well that you have no intention of marriage at this present time. That is all the more reason for our interest in what has occurred!”
“It was nothing!” Thomas slammed his fist down hard on the arm of the chair, his frustration bubbling over to anger. “A lady refused to accept my offer of a dance and would not even permit me to see her dance card. That is all.”
Silence ran around the group for a moment, and Thomas noticed how the three gentlemen all exchanged glances.
“I hardly think that such a thing is to be considered unimportant,” Lord Henderson said eventually. “It may have occurred with each of us at some point, but for you…” He trailed off, allowing the words to remain unspoken although Thomas could feel the weight of Lord Henderson’s implication.
“I will admit that it is not something that has happened before,” he replied, trying to calm his inner frustration and appear quite composed. “But, as I have said, it did not mean anything in particular.”
Lord Wiltshire chuckled loudly. “So you believe that she will come to you eventually, do you?”
Thomas frowned, looking up at the gentleman who now stood by Lord Henderson’s chair, leaning on it lazily.
“I do not understand what you mean,” he said coldly, hoping this would be enough for the gentleman to leave him alone. “Now, if you will excuse me –”
“I mean,” Lord Wiltshire began firmly, “that you must surely believe yourself to be capable of capturing this young lady’s attentions in your own way.”
Lord March began to nod fervently, whilst Thomas forced himself to answer. “Indeed,” he replied, hating to admit that his pride had been somewhat injured over the young lady’s refusal of him. “I could easily convince her to dance with me, converse with me, and even take a walk with me, I am quite certain. However,” he sniffed disdainfully, “I have much better things to do with my time.” He could still recall how Miss Wells had looked at him, her dislike of him appearing in her expression. Of course, given that they had not been introduced before, Thomas had little idea of what it was that he had done to induce such dislike. As much as he disliked the lady, the reason for her refusal to dance with him had been nagging at his mind, for she had been the first lady of his acquaintance to have ever done such a thing.
“I have an idea,” Lord Wiltshire said suddenly, reaching down to grasp Lord Henderson’s shoulder. “A wager.”
“A wager?” Thomas repeated with a sinking feeling from deep within his heart, although he gave no outward appearance of it. “What can you mean, Lord Wiltshire?”
“Well,” the gentleman said with great gusto. “This is a situation that has never occurred before, and I think that it would bring us all a good deal of delight to see how it plays out! Therefore, Lord Weston, if you are so very confident that this young lady – what did you say her name was again?”
“Miss Wells,” Lord Henderson interrupted before Thomas could speak. “Daughter to Lady Whitehaven.”
Lord March’s eyes rounded whilst Lord Wiltshire’s grin only grew steadily.
“Then,” Lord Wiltshire continued, as Lord Henderson reached for his whisky glass. “Then I propose a wager. A wager that you, Lord Weston, will not only be able to step out onto the floor with Miss Wells and dance two dances with her, but that you will also have her willingness to come out walking with you.”
“No, more than that!” Lord March interrupted loudly. “You must offer to court her, and she must be inclined to accept.”
Thomas frowned, his brows furrowing together. “That is hardly fair on the poor creature,” he replied, trying to think up any excuse as to why he should not have to be bound by this wager. “She is plain enough already and certainly not the object of interest in any other gentleman’s eyes.”
Lord Henderson, whom Thomas had hoped would not be amenable to this idea, sat forward and frowned. “I must admit,” he began, giving Thomas a flush of hope. “I must admit that it would be most unfair to Miss Wells, given that Lord Weston would soon remove his court from her.”
“If he succeeds,