The Double Wager

"Henry, my love, I think the hallway of our home is hardly the appropriate scene for such an impassioned embrace. Shall we discuss the matter in the drawing room?" Eversleigh asked, apparently unperturbed by the misunderstanding. "And, Phil, if you keep hopping around in that ma

Henry twined her arm through his as they ascended the staircase together. "The grays are perfect for my phaeton, Marius," she said. "I wanted to take them out this afternoon, but I remembered that you wish to be with me until you can be certain that I shall not break my neck. I shan't, you know, but it seemed only fair to wait after you had been so generous. Did you go out first thing this morning to buy them for me?"

"I have been trying to acquire them for several months,' Eversleigh answered evasively. I suppose our marriage finally speeded the matter on."

"Did you have to pay a great deal for them?" she asked, looking anxiously up into his face.

He looked back into her eyes, his own half-hidden behind his eyelids. "I begin to think that the cost was not too high at all," he answered smoothly.

The Duke of Eversleigh spent a few afternoons with his wife, sitting beside her as she drove her new phaeton, pulled by the grays. The conveyance was dangerous and daring for a woman; the grays were high-spirited and difficult animals. The combination should have been beyond Henry's skill and strength, but as she had predicted, she proved to be an excellent whip. She drove her dashing new vehicle with precision and apparent ease. Eversleigh's relaxed and almost-lazy posture beside her suggested that he was not at all surprised by his wife's skills. After a few days, she was to be seen driving in the park alone, with a groom up behind. Some members of the ton murmured about the amount of freedom the duke was allowing his young wife.

Although Eversleigh accompanied Henry to several eve-ning functions, he did not always dog her footsteps. Frequently at the theater he would leave their box during the intervals as soon as visitors came to call on her. He would wander into the hallway to converse with acquaintances, or enter other boxes to pay courtesy calls on their occupants. At balls he would frequently disappear into the card room after dancing once with his wife, leaving her to mingle with her growing number of friends.

And so Henry Devron, Duchess of Eversleigh, became something of the rage of London that Season. She was titled, rich, vivacious, and pretty in a thoroughly unfashionable way. Young men flocked to her. She was interesting to be with, with her refreshingly open ma

She seemed totally oblivious of her own popularity, seeming not to realize that there was anything unusual about having at least half a dozen men calling each afternoon, vying for the honor of taking her driving or of accompanying her in her own vehicle, crowding her box whenever she appeared at the theater or opera house. Eversleigh seemed well aware, but appeared not the least a

And so it happened that, a little more than a week after her return to London, Henry came face to face with Oliver Cranshawe at Lady Emery's ball one evening. She had met him at her wedding and recognized him immediately as her husband's heir.

"Your Grace," he said silkily, bowing over her hand and favoring her with the full force of his dazzling smile, "you look even more lovely and sparkling than you did on your wedding day."

"Goodness," she said, laughing, "what a foolish thing to say. I am by no means lovely, sir, and if I sparkle, it is only because I am wearing the Eversleigh diamonds tonight. "

He smiled again. "Cousin, I see you are not to be flattered," he said, gazing with smiling gray eyes into hers. "But, believe me, it is so refreshing to see a lady who neither simpers nor affects boredom. You do enjoy life, do you not?"

Henry found herself warming to his friendly, open personality and to his handsome, youthful presence. "It would be foolish to pretend boredom," she said with some scorn… "Surely soon one would be bored in good earnest "

He laughed. "You are delightful, your Grace. i ca

"Certainly,"she said. "But I must warn you that I have a nasty habit of treading all over my partner's feet."

He gri

"If we are cousins," she said, "I think you must call me Henry."

When the dance was over and Cranshawe led her to the sidelines, Henry was surprised to find Eversleigh standing there, looking relaxed and at his ease. He had disappeared into the card room an hour before.

"Ah, Oliver," he commented languidly, "enjoying the festivities, dear boy?"

"I have been making the acquaintance of your very charming wife, Marius," Cranshawe replied, smiling down at Henry.

"Quite so," Eversleigh said, putting his quizzing glass to his eye and surveying the other occupants of the room in a leisurely mariner. "I always consider it such a bore to feel duty-bound to converse and dance with family members. In fact, I make it a practice almost never to do so."

"But who would call dancing with Henry a duty?" Cranshawe replied, bowing to her and smiling warmly into her eyes again.

Eversleigh's glass swept in the direction of his heir. "I,, certainly do not, Oliver," he said, "but then her Grace is my wife."

Cranshawe stood uncomfortably where he was for a few moments. Then he bowed to Henry. "If you will excuse me, cousin," he said, "I see someone that I must talk to."

"Good night, Oliver," Henry said, smiling a little uncertainly at him.

Eversleigh lowered his glass and looked at his heir. "On your way so soon, dear boy?" he asked.

Cranshawe bowed again and walked away.

"Marius," Henry said, turning to him with indignation in her eyes, "why were you so rude to your cousin?"

"I? Rude?" he said, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "But, Henry, I pride myself on always displaying impeccable ma

"Absurd!" she commented, and laid her hand on his proffered arm.