by Shana Galen
Colin entered, eyeing the cards Jasper was shuffling so quickly they looked like a blur. “Putting on a magic show to amuse your son?”
Jasper almost smiled at the mention of the boy. “Learning a few card tricks so I’ll fit in with a group of swindlers. They have information I want. Now, you stand there and pick a card.” He fanned out the cards in front of Colin with an admirable flourish.
“Any card?”
Jasper shook the cards at him impatiently. Colin selected one and looked at it. “Ten of hearts.”
Jasper tossed the cards on the table in exasperation. “You’re not supposed to tell me what card you took.”
“Then you should say that at the start.”
Jasper snatched the ten of hearts out of Colin’s hand and shuffled again.
“Speaking of wanting information,” Colin said.
“No. I have to concentrate. Now, pick a card.” He held out the fanned deck again. “Any card and don’t tell me the card you pick.”
Colin picked one and looked at it. This time he’d chosen the seven of diamonds.
“Remember your card,” Jasper said smoothly. Colin nodded. “Then slide it back into the deck. Anywhere you like,” Jasper instructed.
Colin slid the card back into the deck, and Jasper shuffled again, the cards flying by in a whirl. He set the cards on the table. “Cut the deck.”
Colin did. Jasper lifted half the deck, pushed the other half away, and said, “Cut again.”
Colin obeyed. Jasper lifted one side of the deck and showed the bottom card. It was the seven of diamonds. “Is this your card?”
“Yes.”
“Bloody Christ, I did it.” He frowned at Colin. “You’re not at all impressed?”
“I saw you slide the card out of your sleeve the second time I cut the deck.”
“How the hell did you see that? You’re supposed to be cutting the cards and watching them.”
“You need to establish your character so when your hand moves to your sleeve, it doesn’t draw my attention.”
Jasper sank into a chair at the table and slid the cards across it then flipped them over. “I need to what?”
“Establish your character. You’re playing a role. Who are you?”
“A card swindler.”
“Then everyone will be looking for you to trick them. Better if you were new to doing these tricks and a little nervous and unskilled. You could have a tic.”
“A tick? Is that like a flea circus?”
Colin refrained from rolling his eyes only because Jasper would probably hit him if he did. “I’ll show you.” Colin held out his hand and Jasper slapped the cards into it. Colin cleared his throat and spoke in an uncertain voice. “Would you like to see a trick?” He pulled nervously at the cuff of his coat and shuffled the cards every bit as skillfully as Jasper had done.
“It took me two days to learn to do that,” Jasper muttered.
“Want to see a trick?” Colin asked again in his performer voice.
“Sure,” Jasper answered.
“I’ll just shuffle once more.” He did then held the deck out. “Pick a card, any card, and—er, don’t tell me your card. Don’t let me see it either.”
Jasper yanked a card out.
“Now look at your card.” Colin slid the deck closed and tugged at his coat cuff again as though uncomfortable or too warm. “Do you have it?”
Jasper glared at him. Colin fanned out the deck again. “Slide it back in wherever you like.” Jasper did and Colin shuffled the deck, sliding Jasper’s card to the top. “Now, cut the deck.” Colin set the cards down and tugged at his coat, sliding the chosen card in his sleeve.
Jasper cut the deck, and Colin set half to the side. “Did you shuffle again here?” he asked in his normal voice.
“No,” Jasper said.
“You might consider it. It would add a bit of flourish.”
“Shut up and tell me to cut the deck again.”
“Cut the deck again.” Jasper did and Colin tugged at his sleeve, sliding the card out and to the bottom of the cut deck when he lifted it. “Is this your card?” He showed the three of spades.
“Yes.”
Colin spread his arms. “There you go. By the time you cut the deck, you were used to my habit of pulling on my cuffs and didn’t note it when I did it.”
Jasper gathered his cards. “I’m going home.”
“Fine. I’ll walk with you.”
“Why?” Jasper asked, sliding his half mask on and tying it.
“Because I need information on the Earl of Battersea.”
Jasper’s hand dropped. “Why?”
Colin considered. He trusted Jasper, but the fewer people who knew about Daphne’s debt, the better. “Just tell me what you know.”
“Let me just say that among people who have a bad reputation, he has a bad reputation.”
“His purported vices?”
“He doesn’t drink to excess, but he likes to gamble. He always wins, so I assume he cheats. Though I take it he loses often enough in the drawing rooms of Mayfair so as not to raise suspicion. But when he’s slumming it’s a different story. He likes women and men too. He’ll often round up a group of whores and molly boys and bring them out to a house party for a few days to entertain the guests.” Jasper put his hands on the table. “Not all of them always come back, and those who do, don’t go again.”
“What happens at these house parties?”
“No one is much inclined to say, and I’ve never pressed. The earl generally keeps away from the debutantes and Society virgins, so I’ve not had any irate fathers knocking on my door.”
“What do you know of his finances?”
Jasper rubbed a thumb along his chin. “Not much. Something to do with shipping possibly? He doesn’t have much family money. His father was a profligate.” Jasper finished with his mask. “Do you want me to look into him further?”
“Not if it takes you away from your card swindlers.”
Jasper stuck the deck in his pocket. “I’m interested now. You’ve been staying at Mayne’s?”
Colin shifted. “I may be moving soon. I’m looking at a town house today.” He paused and decided he might as well say it. “With my wife.”
Colin couldn’t see Jasper’s brows under the mask, but he imagined they rose.
“Leave the address with Porter. I’ll come see you and Lady Daphne if I find out anything.”
“Good. You should, er, bring your wife. We’ll have dinner.”
Jasper’s mouth quirked up. “And here I thought we would all die in the mud in France.”
“We’ve come a long way from scavenging for food and sleeping propped against a tree.”
“Somehow I never thought you would be the one planning dinner parties.” Jasper started for the door. “I’ll tell Neil and Ewan to bring their wives.”
“Wait. What?”
Jasper continued walking. “You should probably ask Draven to bring his bride. And we don’t want to leave out Mayne, even if he is the biggest scandal of the moment.”
“I never said—”
“Thanks for the help with the card trick.”
And he was gone. Colin could hear him chuckling as he walked away. He was annoyed Colin could do the trick as well, if not better, than he. That was why he’d threatened to invite half the Survivors to a dinner party.
It had been an empty threat. Colin hadn’t even seen the town house yet.
It had to be an empty threat, didn’t it?
The clock chimed, and Colin realized he’d be late if he didn’t hurry. He forgot to slip unnoticed past the dining room, and Duncan called out to him. Pretending he hadn’t heard, Colin continued walking. That didn’t deter Duncan, who caught up to him in the vestibule.
“Why the hurry?” Duncan asked, hands on his hips.
“I have an appointment. Thank you.” He accepted his hat from Porter.
“With yer wife?”
“As it happens, but why shoul
d that matter?”
“As you ken, I need to have a few words with the lass. I’ll come with ye.”
Colin took the hat Porter held out to Duncan and handed it back to the Master of the House.
“No, you won’t. Her mother will be there as well.”
“I will. If the lass willnae introduce me to any ladies, then I’ll ask her for a list.” Duncan grabbed the hat and shoved it on his head. “Where are we headed?”
Colin shook his head and started for the door. Outside, he gave Duncan a sideways look. “This is harassment, you know.”
“You say harassment. I say persistence. Besides, I’ll entertain the duchess while you slip away with yer lady.” Duncan waggled his brows. “That’s the best way to ken if the bed chamber suits.”
And this, Colin thought, is why Duncan was called the Lunatic. The problem was that the plan wasn’t half bad. Colin did need to speak to Daphne in private. He supposed Duncan had his uses and would appeal to a lady looking to rebel. But it would take more than a little rebellion to convince any well-bred lady of the ton to consent to live in the wilds of Scotland with the Lunatic and his dragon of a mother.
Ten
“Who is that with him?” the duchess asked as she and Daphne stood in front of the town house in Oxford Square on the outskirts of Mayfair, the leasing agent checking his watch nervously beside them.
Daphne closed her eyes. Colin wouldn’t. But, of course, he had. “It’s no one, Mama. I’ll send him away.”
“See that you do.”
Even though the skies threatened no rain, Daphne opened her parasol and spread it out behind her then moved forward to intercept her husband and Mr. Murray. She gave them a tight smile, keeping her gaze mainly on Mr. Murray as looking at Colin would remind her too much of what had happened this morning at Madame Renauld’s.
“The lass has fire in her eyes,” Mr. Murray said to Colin, probably thinking she couldn’t hear.
“Mr. Murray, how kind of you to escort Mr. FitzRoy to see us.” It was a clear dismissal. The men paused before her and gave polite bows. Colin’s was graceful as usual while Murray’s was more gallant than she might have expected from such a large, seemingly uncouth man. She moved to take Colin’s arm, but Murray surprised her again by intercepting her and wrapping her arm around his. Then holding it in place.
“Actually, I came to see you, Lady Daphne.” He began to walk with her, very slowly, toward her mother, whose gaze had narrowed. “You see, I havenae met any suitable lasses yet.”
She tried to tug her arm away, but he just patted it. Colin covered his smile with one hand.
“The Season is young, Mr. Murray. I don’t even believe all the families are yet in Town.”
He gave her a wide smile. “Och, I didnae ken. I was wondering if you would do me one more kindness, lass. Perhaps make me a list of the lasses you recommend.”
She gave him a sharp look. “Women are not like tailors or bootmakers, Mr. Murray.”
“Aye. I didnae intend to pay the lasses. Just woo and wed one then take her back to Scotland with me.”
It seemed a fate she would not wish on her worst enemy. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Murray, but as I have said before, I do not think I can be of assistance.” She finally freed her arm. Her mother gave her an impatient look as the men were now standing before the duchess.
“Your Grace,” Colin said, “may I present Mr. Duncan Murray. He fought with me on the Continent.”
The duchess held out a stiff hand and Murray bent over it. “A pleasure, Your Grace. I believe you ken my mother.”
The duchess started. “I think that unlikely, Mr. Murray.”
“My mother was English, the daughter of the Earl of Montleroy.”
The duchess’s blue eyes widened. “Lady Charlotte? But she ran off with...” She trailed off as she assessed Murray.
“A Scotsman? James Murray, me father and the brother of the laird of Clan Murray.” Murray spread his arms. “And now Lady Charlotte has sent me to find a bride.”
“Charlotte. I haven’t thought of her in years.” The duchess appeared to be staring across the street, but Daphne thought she looked as though she’d gone decades into the past, perhaps reliving her own Season as a young debutante.
“Your Grace,” the leasing agent said timidly. “Might I show you the house now?”
“Of course.”
The leasing agent ascended the steps and led them inside, Murray escorting the duchess. Daphne wondered if what he had told her mother was true. If it was, Duncan Murray’s uncle was the Duke of Atholl. It was very difficult to picture the Scotsman as part of such a noble family. Colin offered his arm to Daphne. She closed her parasol and took it.
“Why is he here?”
“You try putting him off,” Colin answered.
She had and thus far her efforts had been futile. Her mother was still chatting with Murray about his mother, who had apparently been a good friend of the duchess’s, and waved Colin and Daphne ahead. “I have seen the house,” she declared. “You two look around. I will wait in the parlor.”
Compared to the Warcliffe town house, this building was small. But Daphne supposed they did not need much room as it was only the two of them. The first floor held what she immediately thought of as the pink parlor. The walls were a pale rose and the furnishings in shades of cream or blush. She knew she would love spending mornings in that room. It opened into a library, which was quite bright and airy as libraries went. Books lined the shelves and a writing desk faced the window. It was a large window that opened to the garden, and Daphne could see rose bushes already had been planted and tended. They would bloom soon. She’d have to see what color the roses were. If not pink, she’d have some planted.
“I can tell you like it,” Colin said.
She glanced at him. “You don’t?”
He shrugged. “One house is much like another.” He spoke to the agent. “Might we see the dining room?”
The agent led them across the foyer and opened the doors to the dining room. It was a good size, not so large that she would feel as though the two of them were separated by miles if at opposite ends of the table, but not so small that her parents or siblings could not dine with them.
“It’s a bit small,” Colin commented.
She chuckled. “It’s not as though we plan to have grand dinner parties.” She might enjoy Society, but he had made clear he did not. And she did not mind. She was tiring of the endless rounds of social engagements.
“I don’t know about grand, but it will be difficult to fit six couples.”
“Six couples?”
“My friends and their wives.”
She gaped at him. He had friends? But then she knew that. There was Murray and Fortescue and the Duke of Mayne, she supposed. But of those, only Mayne was married, and she certainly did not intend to invite a woman known as the Wanton Widow to her home. Although now that the widow had married the duke, perhaps people would give her another moniker.
“The garden is large enough,” she heard herself saying. “We could dine al fresco.”
“Even better, I can tell Mayne he has to host. Phin is much better at that sort of thing than I am.” He seemed relieved, but as they followed the agent up the stairs, it occurred to her, for the first time, that Colin actually intended to live here.
She intended to live here.
They would live here together.
Yes, she’d always thought she wanted a real marriage, but now that she was faced with the prospect, it was a bit daunting. She’d never spent above a few hours with Colin. She barely knew him. What would they talk about at breakfast? What would they do in the evenings? Where would he sleep when he went to bed?
She got a glimpse of the drawing room, her mind too occupied with thoughts of Colin in bed with her to notice much of it. Then they were shown to the bed chambers. The agent informed them there was one large one with a sitting room attached on the first floor and two others above. Those above were smaller—
perfect for servants or children.
Daphne felt the blood rush out of her head at the mention of children. There was only one way to beget children, and she hadn’t particularly enjoyed that act the last time.
I’d make sure you enjoyed it.
She was beginning to believe he would too.
But this was all so very much to take in. Years ago, she’d fancied herself in love with him and had been thrilled to marry him. But that was before he’d abandoned her, making her feel a fool for ever having cared for him.
And she didn’t have the luxury of playing at being a new bride. She had Battersea demanding payment, and he would not wait any longer. He would come for her. After this morning, she couldn’t seem to stop looking over her shoulder. Once or twice, she imagined she spotted him following her, but it must have been her imagination. One of these times, she’d be right and he’d snatch her away and force her to pay her debts on her back.
Colin’s voice startled her out of her worrying. “Give us a moment to speak in private,” he said, ushering the agent out. Daphne watched, feeling a bit dazed. He closed the door of the bed chamber, leaving them alone.
“There’s only one bed chamber,” she said. Her parents had adjoining chambers and their own beds.
“And you don’t want that?”
She sank into a wide chair upholstered in velvet. “I don’t know what I want. How can I even think of this with Battersea demanding his payment? What am I supposed to do? Pick out china?”
“I’m sure the house comes with china.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, and I have already begun investigations into Battersea.” He crouched before her, his arms resting on his knees.
“How will that help? Everyone knows his reputation. Even I knew. I was such a fool.”
“You made a mistake. You’re trying to fix it.”
“How? I didn’t even make it to the gaming hell to win the money I need.”
“By trusting me to help you.”
“You can’t don disguises and run away from him forever.” It all seemed so hopeless.