Page 3 of Watching the Earl

Georgina grabbed on to the bedpost to keep from following Sophie downstairs, where Lady Edgerton was receiving callers. The last person she dared to be near was her mother.

News couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter Two

Philip Harding stared at the drink in his hand as he sat in his friend’s library. Though he’d said he never thought it would come to this, his conscience told him he knew it would happen eventually. He just hadn’t expected it to happen like this…on a sure bet.

The Viscount of Tamworth strolled over and sat in the wingback chair next to him, setting his own drink on the table between them. “How bad is it?”

Philip hesitated to admit his failure to anyone, but he needed help, and Tamworth was the most discreet. “It’s bad. I’ve lost it all.”

“You couldn’t have lost it all. Crestfield Hall is entailed. You still have a roof over your head and a place to sleep.”

“Yes, I have a roof, but I’ll have no bed to sleep in once I pay this debt.”

“What the devil did you bet on?”

His gut twisted and resentment rose, even though it was his own fault. “I bet on you, of course. You were a sure thing. You had a plan. Buy this place. Fix it up. Then look for a wife after you celebrated thirty years of life. It was such a sure bet that only one person bet against the rest of us. Bloody bastard.” He took a gulp of the fine scotch and let it sear his insides as he deserved, but it was far too smooth to even allow that self-flagellation.

Tamworth, to his credit, shifted uncomfortably. “I apologize for that. I hadn’t expected to fall in love with Sophie. But if you remember, I told you not to bet on me.”

“Honestly, I was shocked. I placed that bet in the book at White’s right after we left Lord Ferncroft’s Twelfth Night affair, and at that outing you were tupping Lady Worcester. You certainly made quick your courtship to Lady Sophie. I didn’t even have a chance to talk you out of the wedding.”

“Unfortunately, you would not have succeeded. I was even ready to go to Gretna Green to marry Sophie if need be. Who was it that bet against you?”

He turned the glass in his hand, unease filling him. “That’s the worst of it. That rake Lord Claremont was the only one who took us on. There were five of us. We all knew you well, and Claremont knows you not at all. I was positive there was no possibility you would marry before thirty, or I would have never placed the bet.”

Tamworth stared at him. “Wouldn’t you? Since your father’s passing, you’ve been betting on everything from which member of royalty would attend the theatre to how much rain fell in a day.”

Philip looked away, back at his drink, before taking another gulp. Finally, he grumbled, “But you were a sure bet.”

“Durham, I know you’re angry at your father, but losing everything he left you won’t make that feeling go away.”

Self-loathing filled him, and he rose, throwing back the last of the scotch. “I need another.” He started for the sideboard.

“What you need is to come to terms with your father’s death, not another drink.”

Rage filled him, and he clenched his hands so hard that the glass in his hand shattered. As the pieces fell to the Persian rug beneath his feet, he watched the blood droplets appear on his hand. The pain was like that inflicted by a gnat, hardly what he deserved.

“Durham?” Tamworth rose. “Damn, what happened?”

“It appears I broke your glass. You’ll have to stand in line to have me pay you for it.”

“Don’t be an ass. Here. Wrap your hand with my handkerchief before you ruin Sophie’s new rug.”

Philip took the proffered linen and wrapped his hand, holding it together with his thumb. “You’re correct about one thing—drinking isn’t going to save me, any more than betting did.” He walked to a still-empty bookcase, a reminder that his friend had made his own fortune but wasn’t quite finished. He turned, leaning against the solid oak. “Maybe after everything sells, you could help an old friend invest in trade.”

Tamworth sighed. “You need funds to do that. I could have advised you long before now, but you were set upon losing everything, not gaining.”

“I’ll have you know I won a fair amount, too.”

Before Tamworth could answer, a footman came in with a tray. “My lady requested I bring this in.”

Philip grinned at the surprised look on Tamworth’s face. “Still not used to your wife taking care of you, I see.”

“No, just eternally amazed at how observant she is. Rout cakes are your favorite, are they not?”

“You lie. Those are not on that tray.”