it.”
His wife shook her head. “No, no. There is something to it. Ten thousand pounds that Miss Carington will marry Sterling Sinclair, the Marquess of Blackburn, before the end of the Season. There is something afoot between her and the Marquess of Blackburn. She just is not admitting to it.”
“I beg your pardon, but did you say—a
ten-thousand-pound
wager?” Isobel cocked her head. “I am quite certain that I did not hear you correctly. You could not have said—”
Christiana was nodding her head as she blurted, “Ten thousand pounds that you will marry the fighter before Season’s end.” She giggled and clapped her hand over her mouth for an instant. “Preposterous! But oh, how exciting, don’t you agree, Issy?”
“No, I do not!” Isobel’s heart started pounding and she suddenly felt very light in the head. “Lord Triplemont, please, tell me you jest and there is no wager.”
“The wager was recorded in the betting book at White’s last eve,” he told her.
Suddenly Isobel could not seem to catch her breath. It simply could not be true. Such an enormous wager was certain to create a stir among the
ton,
and then her father would be bound to hear of it.
Unless…
unless she could appeal to the gentleman who had logged the bet and convince him to withdraw it immediately. “Lord Triplemont, pray, wh-who placed the bet? I must know the truth of all of this. I am but a miss whose reputation is in great danger. I must stop this nonsense. I am sure you can understand. Won’t you help me?”
“I wish my husband could tell you the gentleman’s identity.” Lady Triplemont placed her hand comfortingly on Isobel’s arm. “The bet was placed anonymously directly through White’s. A sizable portion of the ten thousand pounds is being held in escrow at the club to preserve the bettor’s true identity. It is my understanding that the anonymous nature of the wager is part of what makes it so enticing.”
Isobel shook her head, and a nervous laugh slipped through her lips. “Surely no one would accept such a wager. I am just a plain miss, not titled, not a rich woman. I am likely fretting for naught.” She looked to Lord and Lady Triplemont, waiting for them to confirm this idea.
“Well, begging your pardon, Miss Carington, but you did request the truth from me, so I will give it to you. The betting book is already filled with gentlemen accepting the wager.”
“The book is f-filled?” Isobel stammered. “Why would anyone care if we marry or not? I do not understand.”
“Because the wager is a sure bet. You publicly spurned the marquess. It is clear to most everyone, except my wife, it seems, that you will never marry Blackburn.”
Lady Triplemont studied Isobel for several moments. “I disagree, dear. I saw the fire between them at the ball.” She turned to face her husband. “I want you to place a wager at White’s for me. I believe Miss Carington will marry Lord Blackburn.”
“Dorthea…be reasonable. I can’t,” Lord Triplemont said with no little amount of embarrassment.
“You can.” Lady Triplemont tipped her head at Isobel and Christiana. “Good day, ladies.” She began to turn around to leave when something occurred to her. “There is a lovely pale blue silk in the fourth department that would make a splendid gown for your wedding. You should take a look.” With that parting comment, Lady Triplemont took her husband’s arm and they strolled toward the front of the store.
Isobel stood, mouth fully agape, as the couple passed through the front door and out onto Pall Mall. “This is most distressing, Christiana. We should leave before we encounter another member of White’s.”
Christiana turned, and instead of making to leave, she started for the rear of the store.
Isobel jerked around and stared at her. “Where are you going?”
“I assumed you would wish to have a look at the blue silk Lady Triplemont suggested before we leave.” She started to walk again