The Countess' Lucky Charm by A. M. Westerling Read Free Book Online Page B

like a challenge to me. Perhaps you are up for a wager?”
    The captain shrugged. “Perhaps.”
    “I shall teach Simone proper table manners.” He ignored her sudden gasp and focused on the captain.
    The captain shook his head. “We have a good five weeks ahead of us. A monkey could learn to eat during that time. You must up the stakes.”
    “I shall turn her into a proper lady. Speech, comportment, everything.” Inspiration struck as he thought of his limited supply of coins. “If I do, you return our fares.”
    “And if you do not?”
    “We pay you double.” The brash words slipped out before he realized the consequences. They had better win—he took pride in the fact he always covered his wagers but the sad truth was, he didn’t have double the fare.
    “You have yourself a wager, my lord.” The captain leaned forward and held out his hand for Temple to shake. “Our last dinner on board will be the test and Mrs Featherstone shall judge.”
    “Agreed,” Temple said as he shook the proffered hand. “Please go on with your meal and do not pay us any attention.” He inclined his head to the others at the table and turned his regard to Simone, who sat there scowling with bottom lip jutted out, plainly not pleased with the wager.
    He flashed a reassuring smile and picked up his knife and fork. “The utensils are there for a purpose, Simone. The fork goes in your left hand and the knife in your right.”
    Reluctantly, she complied with Temple’s instructions, holding the utensils awkwardly upright before her. Her lip still jutted out and for a crazy instant, he wanted to kiss it back into place. He shook his head at the ridiculous notion. Concentrate on the task at hand, he told himself.
    “Good.” He nodded his approval at her death grip on the utensils. At least she wasn’t arguing with him, which he had been expecting when he saw her rebellious expression.
    She continued to scowl.
    “Now watch me.” Temple placed his fork in his own slice of beef and neatly cut off a morsel with the knife. Again he waited for her.
    Silent, she glared at him and her left hand quivered as if she would rather stab him with the fork than her own piece of meat.
    Nonetheless, she followed his instructions.
    “ Oy ,” she grunted. “It ain’t as easy as it looks.”
    The meat slid about on her plate as she struggled with it. She managed to cut off a chunk, holding it triumphantly in the air. Unfortunately, the piece she had cut was too large and she chewed for some time before choking it down. “It takes so much longer to eat,” she complained.
    “Yes, nevertheless dining is an activity meant to be enjoyed.”
    “This ain’t very enjoyable,” Simone muttered as she tackled the beef again. After fumbling with it a minute or two more, her face flushed and she gave up, piling her knife and fork with a clatter on the plate before pushing the plate aside.
    She stood then and, paying no heed to the startled glances of her dinner companions, stalked off, a perfect picture of frustration.
    Temple excused himself and caught up to her in the hall outside their cabin. She had her hand on the latch and at the sound of his footsteps she tipped her nose in the air in an apparent ploy to ignore him.
    “Simone, wait.” He grabbed her elbow and turned her about.
    “Don’t ye think ye should have asked me?” The words exploded from her as if from a fermenting keg left in the sun too long.
    “About what?”
    “About the bet with the captain. About making me into a lady.” She swallowed hard.
    “How could I? The opportunity presented itself and I took it. You’ve been looking for a way to pay me back. It seemed a reasonable solution.”
    “Reasonable ta ye, maybe.” She pulled her elbow free to frown at him. “Not ta me.”
    He recognized her belligerence for what it was: apprehension and self-doubt. “Why are you afraid? I vow, I shall shape you into a lady of quality in no time.”
    She looked at him, disbelief shining