A Gentleman for Judith (The Wednesday Club Book 1)

by Sahara Kelly

  “How did it go, Judith?” Lydia reached her first.

  “Shh.” Judith held her finger to her lips. “I’m Mademoiselle Mystère.”

  Rose chuckled. “Yes, indeed. In that gown you certainly are.”

  “I’m jealous,” announced Lydia. “I want to wear that and be here too.”

  Matthew sighed loudly. “Firstly, Mama and Papa would have fits if you even mentioned it. Secondly you are the worst card player I’ve ever run across, and your ability at hazard is even worse.”

  “But…” Lydia’s bosom rose as her outrage built.

  “You are the best of sisters and are possessed of many talents, my dear,” Matthew put his arm around her shoulder. “But gaming ain’t one of them. So order a dress like this in pale yellow since it would suit you better, and leave it at that.”

  Deflated, Lydia wrinkled her nose. “It’s so annoying when he’s right.”

  “And he is,” agreed Judith. “But to answer your question, it’s been quite fun thus far. I played against Sir Andrew Chadwick. What a delightful gentleman.”

  “And you won of course?” Rose leaned in.

  “Could you doubt it?” Judith grinned back. “High stakes too. That was a little frightening, but then I realised that not everyone plays for a penny a point.”

  They all laughed, and Matthew went in search of champagne.

  “I have to tell you something,” said Lydia in an undertone. “I saw Lord Rolfe.”

  “Well, yes, he does own the place,” frowned Judith. “So it’s sort of understood that he’d be here? I haven’t seen him yet, myself…”

  “He’s got Fiona’s earring,” Lydia hissed through clenched teeth. “I recognised it. He’s had it made into a bloody pin…”

  “Damning evidence, Judith,” added Rose quietly. “We’ve both seen the set on Fiona, and now he’s wearing one? Will others notice? Is she already at risk of losing everything?”

  Judith took in a breath. To reveal what she knew would betray a confidence; to keep it secret might have an even more devastating effect. So she sat back down and gestured to the chairs at the table. “Sit. I need to tell you something.”

  They sat, but Lydia was still fuming. “He’s brazen. Absolutely brazen. No thought as to the consequences of his actions, no thought of Fiona, what such a thing might do to her…God the scandal he could create just by showing off his…his…trophy.” She gnashed her teeth, an angry kitten snarling at a lion.

  Rose added her thoughts, pointing out the fact that she’d recognised several well-known members of Society attending, mostly gentlemen, but one or two had brought their wives along. Those would be the most dangerous, she said. “Gossip is their raison d’être, you know.” She looked worried. “If they see that dratted pin and recognise it…”

  “He’s a callous, selfish, arrogant worm,” hissed Lydia.

  “And he’s madly in love with Fiona,” Judith hissed back.

  Silence fell for a few long moments.

  “What?” Lydia finally blinked.

  “I’m quite serious. He and Fiona are in love. Apparently, it was one of those at-first-sight bolt of lightning moments, and it culminated with the kisses in the garden. She gave him her earring as a pledge of her love.”

  “Oh,” breathed Rose. “Oh my.”

  “Are you sure?” Lydia’s face was a combination of wonder, astonishment and disbelief.

  “I saw his face when he spoke of her, Lydia. I think I may have been the first person he could actually tell. Yes, I’m sure. He is completely devoted to her.”

  “But…”

  Judith held up her hand. “No buts, if you please. I’m utterly convinced.”

  “But her Duke,” said Rose, fingers to her lips in worry. “Her parents. What will she do?”

  “They have a plan,” whispered Judith. “I daren’t say more, especially not here.”

  Lydia clenched her teeth. “It had better be a damned good plan.” She winced. “I’m using awful language tonight. Must be the influence of this place. So do I tell Matthew? I think he has a slight interest in that direction as well, Duke notwithstanding.”

  Judith shook her head. “I’d prefer you didn’t. My feeling is that Lord Rolfe isn’t going to let this situation continue for much longer. So say nothing right now.”

  “I’m mum,” nodded Rose.

  “Me too,” sighed Lydia. “I trust your assessment,” she said to Judith, “But there will be a time limit.”

  “You’re a good friend,” replied Judith. “Don’t worry.”

  A tall gentleman, of saturnine looks and brilliantly white teeth, approached the table. “Mademoiselle Mystère?”

  Lydia and Rose stood and moved away. “Excuse us, sir,” smiled Lydia, curtseying. “Your game awaits.”

  “Merci, Mademoiselle. I am grateful. Such kindness from a beautiful woman is always a special moment,” his teeth flashed in the candlelight.

  Lydia blushed, smiled and moved away with Rose.

  “Elle est enchanteur, is she not?” His eyes lingered on Lydia’s retreating figure.

  “I’m sure she is,” agreed Judith. “I believe we have a game, sir? You are Comte Vallières?”

  “Oui,” he answered, sitting across from her. “But you are so young to play this game, eh?” His eyes followed her hands as she shuffled the deck.

  “Perhaps,” she answered. “But I can assure you I will do my best to make the experience a pleasant one for you.”

  “I am sure you will, lovely Mademoiselle,” he smiled.

  Oddly enough, Judith remained unmoved. She couldn’t detect any warmth at all behind that smile. The Comte was undoubtedly an attractive man, lean, well-dressed and with charm in abundance. And yet she felt no feminine response to his dark, soulful eyes or the faint scent of sandalwood that he carried with him.

  She offered him the deck and he drew the high card. The subtle smirk on his face told her he knew his odds of winning had just risen as he elected to allow her the first deal. It was not an unwarranted assumption, since the game tended to favour the player who dealt the final hand, and with a change off every other hand in a six hand partie…

  Judith focussed on the cards. Dealing was one thing. But playing the game was another.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I t had to be well past midnight, thought Judith as she considered her final discards.

  The man seated across from her had drifted from charming, to focused, to tense and finally to what he was now—angry. She could tell by the muscle twitching in his cheek, his taut posture and the barely controlled snarl that curled his lips.

  Gone was the attractive and sensual Frenchman, replaced by a card player who didn’t like to lose.

  Their game had been fairly even, as was to be expected when two experienced card players opposed each other. But while Judith had remained calm and at ease with her play, the Comte had been increasingly distressed as he lost hand after hand. His emotions were now ruling his play, and Judith had claimed every trick in the last four hands. He’d taken the first, and this was the final game of their partie.

  The noise surrounding them was abating slightly, which made it easier to focus, and Judith allowed herself a moment of relief at the thought that her evening was almost over.

  She was ready to end this game, without question. The Comte’s expression was not a pleasant one, and his eyes flickered this way and that, roaming over the discards and back to his hand.

  Finally, he played his last card.

  Judith capped it with her King and took the final trick. And the game.

  A growl from the Comte’s throat grew into a roar and he leapt to his feet, grasping the table and overturning it. “Vous trichez. I am cheated by this…this chienne…”

  Judith stumbled backward, avoiding the table and the cards flying everywhere. Two steps more and she’d have been completely clear, but the edge caught her just above her knee and she staggered on a cry of pain.

  The room grew deadly silen
t at the Comte’s shout of fury.

  Ragnor and Matthew rushed over, Ragnor falling to his knees beside Judith, and Matthew trying to calm the Comte.

  It was chaos, and every table in the room had stilled to watch.

  Lord Rolfe appeared immediately and walked to the Comte. “Stop, sir. Stop this instant. Arrêtez de crier…”

  His demand that the man stop yelling finally penetrated the anger and the Comte instead shook his fist at Rolfe. “Your woman cheats me. It is impossible that I lose to such a one. Your establishment is—how you say—crooked, Milord. I am proof…” he thumped his chest.

  Rolfe looked at Judith. “You have the scores?”

  She nodded, still rubbing her knee. “I do, sir. Although I think they may be under the table right now.”

  “Hah.”

  The Comte made to move toward her, but Matthew’s hand on his shoulder restrained him. “I think not, sir. That’s not the way we do things in England.”

  Perhaps the stern note in Matthew’s voice got through to the Comte, as he stayed in place, despite his threatening movements.

  “Here, Rolfe.” Ragnor had recovered the note pads from beneath the table, and passed them over, then helped Judith back into her chair. “Are you all right?”

  She managed a smile. “Yes indeed. Just a bump on the knee. No harm done.” She looked at the Comte. “I understand your anger at your loss, sir, but I swear our game was honest and above-board.”

  Everyone listened intently; Judith found herself astonished that her words echoed through such silence, given the number of people in the room.

  Rolfe reviewed the scores, then turned to the Comte. “I have the scores, sir. Written in your own hand. They match those of Mademoiselle Mystère. There was no cheating here. You lost.” He moved closer, slightly shorter than the Comte, but a lot more intimidating. The Comte stepped backward, narrowly missing Matthew’s toes.

  “You are sure, M’sieur?”

  “I stake my reputation on the honesty of this table.” Rolfe straightened. “I shall expect a written apology to this establishment and Mademoiselle Mystère on the morrow. And I encourage you to gamble elsewhere if you cannot abide losing to a woman. Here, we offer honest games.”

  It was as if everyone held their breath, listening to Rolfe’s words.

  “Except…”

  The silence grew even thicker as Rolfe’s additional word drifted over the gathered crowd.

  “Except that the Comte is not completely in error.”

  Judith’s head jerked up. Rolfe had received her note. What was he going to do? Ragnor rose to his feet and rested his hand on her shoulder, a warm and comforting touch.

  “Miss Lavender,” called Lord Rolfe. “Please come here immediately.”

  There was a flurry of activity as a woman attempted to push her way through the crowd to the door. The crowd, being composed of gambling aficionados, was not cooperative, and within moments a rather rumpled Lavender stood before Lord Rolfe.

  “I have done my best to offer fair games to all who have entered this establishment,” he frowned. “But tonight I have learned something that greatly disturbed me.” He looked down, and then seized her left wrist as she hissed an angry breath.

  “Here, my friends.” He held up her arm. “A secret compartment…” As he undid the ribbon and released the band of decorative flowers, two cards fell to the floor.

  There was a murmur of outrage.

  “And here…” Rolfe kept her arm aloft and revealed a slit within her evening glove which had lain unseen beneath the band. Miss Lavender had cheated them all with her sleight of hand.

  “I will be verifying the details of Miss Lavender’s table, ladies and gentlemen. You will be suitably recompensed after she and I have a discussion later this evening. Suffice it to say that we have both lost. Miss Lavender has held back winnings, thus defrauding myself. And she wilfully slanted the odds in her own favour, thus defrauding you. You have my abject apologies that out of all the games here, one was not an honest one.”

  “Actually,” said Ragnor, moving forward. “There is another you should know about.”

  “What?” Rolfe’s head swivelled.

  “What?” echoed Judith, her eyes wide.

  Their words were muttered with varying degrees of confusion throughout the room, as everyone looked at everyone else, then back to the group by the upturned table.

  “My observant friend, Lord Linfield, and myself noticed a strange but consistent pattern at one of your faro tables, Lord Rolfe.”

  Once again, a ripple of movement began at a table on the other side of the ballroom.

  “Stop her…”

  “Hold that woman…”

  “Wait…he’s running for it…”

  Judith couldn’t see what was happening from her chair, but she could hear the cries. Making to move, the hand on her shoulder pressed her back down. “Don’t move, sweetheart. Keep that knee out of harm’s way…”

  Ragnor’s voice was low, but gentle, surprising her.

  “Miss Delight?” Rolfe’s face was horrified.

  “She has a gaffed faro box, sir,” Miles stepped into the fray. “I believe you’ll find a tiny mirror somewhere toward the top. She covered it with a little resin when it passed to the next banker and revealed it again when it returned to her.” He glanced around. “And this gentleman here…Mr Salford, I believe?” He bowed casually. “This man was her accomplice.”

  “I do not know what to say about this,” said Rolfe. “I am stunned beyond words.

  He straightened, walked to Miss Delight and ripped off her mask. “How could you?”

  This time the gasp sucked most of the air out of the room, and Judith ignored Ragnor’s hand, struggling to her feet and adding her own sound of surprise.

  Miss Delight’s identity was clearly revealed, and one hostess was absolutely furious.

  “Clementine?” Cordelia Mannering’s shriek rattled the chandeliers. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing? You dared to come here…and cheat? When you knew I’d be here? Do you have any idea what you’ve done to my reputation?”

  She strode to the younger woman, glared at her and then slapped her across the face, hard enough to almost knock her off her feet. “You’re no sister of mine anymore.”

  Cheeks aflame, Cordelia stalked away and left the ballroom.

  “Well,” said Judith, sitting down again, her eyes wide. “That was unexpected.” Her words travelled over the hushed room.

  Ragnor looked at her, as did Matthew. Then they started to chuckle. Miles joined in.

  Before long, Rolfe threw his hands in the air, shook his head and burst out laughing, sending the Misses Delight and Lavender away in the care of servants, along with Salford.

  The Comte stared at them and frowned in confusion. “I shall never understand les anglais.”

  That statement set everyone off all the harder.

  *~~*~~*

  A few days later, Sydenham House was in the throes of readying itself for the final Wednesday Club gathering of the year. More and more London residents were now leaving for the country and the weather had turned downright wintry.

  “Travelling is going to become more of a challenge very soon,” observed Lady Maud, glancing outside. It couldn’t decide if it wanted to be sleet or snow and was presently a nasty combination of the two.

  “I believe you’re right,” answered Judith. “So tonight’s event will conclude our season, as it were.”

  “Yes indeed.” Maud chuckled. “And everyone is heading to their country seats filled with all the wonderful gossip that their fellows—who had the misfortune to leave London too soon—missed. Can you imagine the dinners?”

  Judith laughed. “Most assuredly.” She gazed at the ceiling. “Let’s see. A French aristocrat accused an English lady of cheating at a somewhat notorious Lord’s gambling club, and is proved wrong, but during the event two other dishonest dealers are revealed. Lord Rolfe experiences an apoplexy.”


  “He did?”

  “No, but that’s how it’ll be told,” grinned Judith. “Now…next is the shocking revelation of the Mannering girls, sisters…both of them, can you imagine?…acting as dealers at a gambling establishment.” She looked at Maud. “This will be accompanied by looks of horror, and probably a few of envy, since most everyone knew of this arrangement and wanted to be one of Rolfe’s hostesses. But nobody would come out and admit it.”

  “True. Very true. I thought about it myself.”

  “My Lady?” Judith’s eyebrows rose.

  “Never mind. Please continue…”

  “Well, after that eventful night at Lord Rolfe’s, he made a stunning announcement in the Times the following afternoon. He was closing Rolfe’s Rooms until the New Year. Apparently, he’s initiating a complete review of the rules and regulations, and plans on making substantial changes when he re-opens.” She shrugged. “A good idea, actually.”

  “Yes, I cannot argue with that at all.”

  “Of course, so many are expecting him to abscond with what they believe were ill-gotten gains. Especially…” She leaned forward, her best gossip-look on her face, “especially one Colonel X, who was rumoured to have wagered his house, his horses and his wife, losing them all on a hand of whist.”

  “Oh how shocking,” breathed Lady Maud, getting into the spirit of the conversation. “Do tell me more.”

  “Since I don’t know who this Colonel X was, I cannot, unfortunately add much more to that delicious on dit. But the best awaits…”

  “I am on tenterhooks…”

  “Well,” Judith widened her eyes. “Only a day or so later, Lord Rolfe himself disappeared.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. Poof. Just like that.”

  “Good God. With all the money?” Maud’s eyebrows rose. This was news to her.

  “One has no idea, but probably not,” said Judith. “Interestingly enough, his disappearance coincided with that of Miss Fiona Barrett-Goddings. It is rumoured that a certain Duke was on the verge of making an offer for her hand, but now…there’s no hand there for him to offer for.” Judith frowned. “Um…if you know what I mean.”