A Dangerous Game (Regency Spies & Secrets Book 2)

by Laura Beers

  Booth huffed. “Women will change the terms of your agreement without any hesitation. They delight in causing havoc in our lives.”

  “And how would you know this exactly?” Oliver asked.

  Booth tossed back his drink and placed his glass back on the table. “I have watched my brother go through it, and he is miserable because of it.”

  “Every marriage is different. Besides, I am at White’s with you, am I not?” Oliver asked, spreading his hands out wide.

  “Just wait,” Booth muttered.

  Oliver turned his attention towards Haskett, who was sitting next to him. “You have been rather quiet this evening. Is everything all right?”

  Haskett leaned forward in his chair with a solemn look on his face. “I am just trying to make sense of what I am being told,” he replied. “You eloped with Miss Lockhart to Gretna Green in the middle of the night, and you truly believe your life won’t change because of your hasty decision?”

  “It wasn’t a hasty decision.”

  “No?” Haskett asked. “Because you didn’t even inform us of it.”

  “I don’t tell you everything.”

  Booth chuckled. “You most definitely do not,” he agreed. “You failed to mention that you were considering matrimony.”

  “That was intentional,” Oliver said. “We couldn’t risk anyone learning of our plans to elope.”

  Haskett grew quiet as a liveried server approached the table and asked, “Would you care for anything else to drink?”

  “Another round, if you don’t mind,” Follett ordered.

  The server tipped his head in acknowledgement as he left to do their bidding.

  Haskett frowned. “I’ve heard that the Duke of Billingham is rather upset that you stole his betrothed out from under his nose.”

  “I care little about what the duke thinks,” Oliver declared.

  “You should,” Haskett replied. “He is not a man to trifle with.”

  “Neither am I,” Oliver countered.

  “But he could make your brother’s life miserable in the House of Lords,” Haskett pointed out.

  Oliver reached for his glass and took a sip. As he lowered the glass, he replied, “I have no doubt that my brother can handle him. After all, the duke is a member of the Whig party and Baldwin is a staunch Tory.”

  “I have heard that the duke is already searching for a new bride,” Booth said.

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Oliver muttered. “Emmeline has a rather low opinion of him.”

  “Then why did she agree to the engagement in the first place?” Haskett asked.

  Oliver leaned to the side as the server placed a drink in front of him and retrieved his other glass. “She didn’t,” he replied. “Her uncle arranged the whole thing.”

  Booth accepted the glass from the server as he said, “I can only imagine the ladies will be saddened to hear about your marriage.”

  Follett raised his glass and declared, “Say goodbye to freedom. It is something that you will never see again.”

  Haskett chuckled as he followed suit. “Your days of infamy are over.”

  Oliver frowned. “Aren’t you being a tad dramatic?” he asked. “I merely took a wife.”

  “A very beautiful wife,” Haskett said.

  Follett nodded. “I agree.”

  “Perhaps we should discuss something else?” Booth asked. “We have been discussing Radcliff’s marital state for the past few hours.”

  Oliver let out a relieved sigh. “Yes, please.”

  “What would you care to discuss?” Booth asked.

  Turning his attention towards Follett, he inquired, “Is the meeting still on for tomorrow night at the Howl Hill Pub?”

  “I assume as much,” Follett confirmed, “but I haven’t met with Guy Stewart again.”

  Booth shook his head. “You are fools for even thinking about going to a pub in the rookeries. You could be robbed, or worse, and no one would even give you any heed.”

  Follett puffed out his chest. “I can handle myself,” he said. “I carry an overcoat pistol on my person.”

  “That is a relief,” Booth teased. “You have one shot, so I hope you only encounter one attacker.”

  Oliver leaned back in his seat. “You don’t need to be worried about Follet, since I will be with him.”

  Booth let out a bark of laughter. “No offense, but I doubt you will fare much better.”

  “Why do you say that?” Oliver asked, amused.

  “Are you in earnest?” Booth asked. “I don’t think I have ever seen you engage in fisticuffs.”

  Oliver shrugged. “I am not the type to seek out a fight.”

  Haskett interjected, “I will be going along, as well.”

  Booth frowned. “Three gentlemen walking through the rookeries will garner some unwanted attention.”

  “My coach will drive us to the pub,” Follett said. “We will be in no imminent danger.”

  Haskett adjusted the lapels of his blue jacket. “Is anyone ready to adjourn to a gambling hell for the evening?”

  “I’m in,” Booth declared.

  “As am I,” Follet replied.

  All eyes turned towards Oliver as Haskett asked, “Will you be joining us?”

  “Or will you be going home to be with your lovely wife?” Booth questioned, a knowing expression on his face.

  “I find that I would rather gamble this evening,” Oliver responded.

  Booth lifted his brow. “Are you in earnest?”

  “I am,” Oliver said.

  A bright smile came to Booth’s face. “Well, wonders never cease,” he remarked, rising. “Let’s go before Radcliff changes his mind.”

  Oliver reached into his waistcoat and pulled out a few coins. He placed them on the table before he rose. “I assure you that nothing will change now that I am married.”

  Follett chuckled. “You aren’t truly that naïve?”

  “Emmeline is not like other women,” Oliver said. “I have no doubt that she will be a dutiful wife.”

  Haskett came around the table and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then she has deceived you.”

  “Perhaps, but Emmeline knew what she was getting herself into by marrying me,” Oliver responded.

  “It is no shame to admit that you were trapped by the parson’s noose,” Haskett said, removing his hand. “Although, I won’t be so foolish as to follow in your footsteps.”

  “What lady would want to marry you?” Follett asked, smirking.

  Haskett laughed loudly. “Not any sane one, I can assure you of that.”

  As Oliver listened to his friends banter back and forth, he couldn’t help but wonder what Emmeline was doing at this precise moment at Hawthorne House. And the same nagging thought kept creeping into his mind. Did she miss him when he was not around?

  Chapter Eight

  Emmeline kept her face expressionless as she rode in the coach with a maid, but her emotions were churning inside. Oliver hadn’t come home last night. When she had woken up early for her morning ride, she’d boldly peeked into his bedchamber, only to discover that his bed had not been slept in.

  Why had he not come home last night? Perhaps he’d sought out company from another. He had promised to be faithful to her, but the doubt kept creeping back in. How well did she truly know Oliver?

  And why did the thought of him being with another woman cause her heart to ache? It shouldn’t. This was only a marriage of convenience, after all. Nothing more.

  Her eyes strayed towards the window as she blinked back her tears. What had she expected? She had practically forced Oliver into the marriage. Now that he was back in Town, he had the freedom to do as he pleased while she resided at Hawthorne House.

  “Are you all right, Miss?” the maid asked.

  Emmeline met her gaze. “I’m afraid I am rather nervous about meeting with my aunt and uncle,” she lied.

  The maid took her at her word and nodded.

  The coach stopped in front of h
er uncle’s whitewashed townhouse and Emmeline waited as the footman came around to open the door.

  Once she stepped onto the pavement, she stared up at the home she had been raised in, knowing everything was about to change. Again.

  Hesitantly, she approached the door and knocked.

  The door was opened, and the butler lifted his brow when he saw her. “It is good to see you, milady,” Drew greeted as he opened the door wide. “Do come in.”

  “Is my aunt home?” she asked as she stepped into the entry hall.

  “She is.”

  “Will you see if she is accepting callers?”

  Drew gave her a look that could only be construed as compassion. “I have no doubt that she will agree to meet with you.”

  “I am not so sure.”

  The butler gestured towards the drawing room. “Would you care to wait in the drawing room while I inform your aunt that you are here?”

  “I would be happy to,” she replied.

  As she crossed the tiled entry hall, she couldn’t help but wonder if her aunt would refuse to see her. She truly hoped not, but she wouldn’t be entirely surprised.

  Emmeline walked over to the pianoforte and ran her hands over the ivory keys. She closed her eyes, remembering her mother sitting next to her as she taught her how to play. Her mother was always so patient, even though reading the sheet music hadn’t come naturally to her.

  Her mother.

  She wondered if her mother would have approved of what she had done.

  Her aunt’s voice broke through her musings. “You have some nerve showing up here like this.”

  Emmeline opened her eyes and met her aunt’s gaze. “I wanted to come and apologize to you and—”

  Betty cut her off. “I don’t want your apology,” she spat. “You betrayed us.”

  “That was not my intention,” she argued.

  “No?” Betty asked. “You were set to be married to the Duke of Billingham tomorrow. A duke!” She tossed her hands in the air. “But instead, you married the lowly second son of a marquess.”

  “I know my reasons may be confusing—”

  Speaking over her, Betty pressed, “You gave up the chance to be a duchess.”

  “I didn’t want to be a duchess!”

  Betty looked at her like she was a simpleton. “What a foolish thing to say.”

  Clasping her hands in front of her, Emmeline tried again. “I did not come to argue with you, Aunt Betty.”

  “No?” she asked. “Then what did you expect would happen?”

  “I was hoping to explain why I chose Oliver.”

  Aunt Betty walked over to the settee and sat down. “I know perfectly well why you chose Lord Oliver.”

  “You do?”

  “You did so out of spite.”

  Emmeline shook her head. “I did not,” she replied. “Oliver and I have always remained friends, despite what happened with him and Charlotte.”

  “You married a rakehell!” Betty exclaimed. “You willingly chose a rakehell over a duke. I shall never understand your reasons.”

  “Oliver is more than what he appears,” she attempted.

  “Then he has fooled you,” Betty argued. “I hope you realize that all of Society is laughing at your foolhardy decision.”

  “I don’t believe that to be true.”

  Betty’s lips curled into a smile. “I just read an interesting article in the Society page about whether Lord Oliver is even capable of remaining faithful to one woman.”

  “That is just someone’s opinion,” Emmeline said, jutting out her chin.

  “Where did we go wrong with you?” Betty asked. “Were we too indulgent?”

  Emmeline pressed her lips together for a moment before responding. “I assure you that has nothing to do with this.”

  “Well, you will be happy to know that the duke will not be suing George for breach of contract,” Betty revealed.

  “That is a relief.”

  “But your uncle is not pleased with your decision, either,” Betty shared. “I daresay that we can never forgive you for what you have done. You have embarrassed us terribly amongst the ton.”

  Coming to sit across from her in an upholstered armchair, Emmeline said, “And for that, I feel awful.”

  “Do you?”

  “I do.”

  “Pray tell, why would you give up a future that most could only ever dream of?” Betty asked.

  With a straight back, Emmeline replied, “I didn’t love him.”

  “Love. Not this again,” Betty scoffed. “There is no place for love in a marriage.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Do you love Oliver?” Betty asked knowingly.

  Emmeline’s gaze shifted to her lap to avoid her aunt’s piercing gaze. “I hold him in some regard,” she admitted.

  “Oliver will break your heart and destroy any chance of happiness in your future,” Betty predicted.

  “I don’t believe that will happen.”

  “Charlotte wasn’t fooled by Oliver’s charms,” Betty said, “but you have never been quite as clever as Charlotte was.”

  Emmeline’s eyes snapped up to meet her aunt’s. “That was a rather cruel thing to say.”

  “I am only speaking the truth.”

  Before she could respond, a maid walked into the room with a tray in her hands and placed it on the table in between them. “Would you care for me to pour, milady?”

  Betty shook her head. “No, I shall see to it, Anna.”

  The maid walked out of the room as her aunt began to pour two cups of tea. After placing the teapot down, she extended a cup and said, “What is done, is done. You are now a married woman and you must deal with the consequences of your actions.”

  “I understand,” Emmeline replied as she accepted the cup and saucer.

  “How did you convince Lord Oliver to marry you without a dowry?” her aunt asked over the rim of her teacup.

  “He didn’t care that I don’t have a dowry.”

  “No?” Betty asked. “That is interesting, considering he frequents disreputable gambling hells.”

  Emmeline took a sip of her tea. “He has informed me that he has made a small fortune from gambling.”

  Betty laughed cruelly. “I can’t imagine it being comparable to the Duke of Billingham’s fortune.”

  “Most likely not,” Emmeline admitted.

  “What you did was unbelievably stupid,” Betty said as she placed her teacup and saucer onto the tray with a clank, “and I find I am not in the right mindset to continue this conversation.” She abruptly rose. “I have no doubt your parents would have been mortified by your decision.”

  “Please don’t say that,” Emmeline breathed.

  “Why?” Betty asked. “It would make it no less true.”

  “The duke and I would have never suited,” Emmeline pressed. “He only wanted to marry me because he needed an heir.”

  “That is what marriage is in our circles!” Betty exclaimed.

  “I wanted more in a marriage.”

  Betty put her hands up in front of her. “I can’t talk to you when you are behaving like this,” she said as she started walking to the door. “You are an impossible child.”

  “Wait,” Emmeline said, setting her teacup on the tray.

  Betty stopped at the open door and gave her an expectant look. “What is it?”

  “May I pack my clothes so they can return to Hawthorne House with me?”

  With a shake of her head, Betty replied, “You are no longer welcome in this home. I shall have Mary pack your clothes and have your trunks delivered to you.”

  “Thank you,” Emmeline murmured.

  Betty’s expression held a look of disgust. “Your uncle worked hard to negotiate a fair contract for you, and it was all for nothing.”

  “I never meant to hurt you or Uncle George.”

  “Well, you did not succeed in that regard,” Betty replied. “Your selfish decision has broken our hearts.”

&
nbsp; Tears formed in Emmeline’s eyes. “I am sorry, Aunt Betty.”

  “Go back to Hawthorne House,” Betty said firmly. “You are no longer our responsibility.”

  The tears started rolling down Emmeline’s cheeks, and she reached up to wipe them away with her gloved hands. “As you wish.”

  Betty remained standing there for a moment, staring at her, and Emmeline thought she saw her expression softening. But then she blinked, and her aunt departed from the room without saying another word.

  Rising, Emmeline walked over to the door and stepped out into the entry hall. Drew was standing there, watching her with pity in his eyes.

  He walked over to the door and opened it. “It was good to see you, milady.”

  “Likewise, Drew.”

  “Take care of yourself.”

  Emmeline brought a smile to her lips at the fastidious butler. “I hope to one day see you again.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Drew said in a hushed voice, “It has been my infinite pleasure to serve you and your parents.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured as she exited the door.

  The footman stepped off his perch when he saw her and opened the coach door. She was about to step in when she heard her name being called from behind her.

  Emmeline turned and saw her lady’s maid standing near the servant’s entrance. Mary gestured that she should approach her.

  Emmeline closed the distance between them and asked, “What is it?”

  Mary glanced worriedly towards the main door of the townhouse. “I will most likely be dismissed for telling you this.”

  “Excellent,” Emmeline declared, “because I want you to come work for me at Hawthorne House.”

  Mary smiled. “I was hoping you hadn’t changed your mind about that,” she said, clearly relieved.

  “Then it is settled.”

  Her lady’s maid bobbed her head. “But first, I need to tell you something.”

  “What is it?” she asked, growing a bit nervous.

  Lowering her voice, Mary shared, “I was walking through the entry hall yesterday and I heard Lord Taylor discussing your dowry with Mr. Clarke.”

  “He was meeting with my father’s solicitor?”

  Mary nodded. “He was.”

  “But surely you were mistaken, since I don’t have a dowry.”