The Deception

by Joan Wolf

  “Lady Greystone’s father was well-known for his excellent horses,” Lady Mary said to her escort. Her cheeks were a little flushed.

  “I say—was he some kind of a dealer, then?” Padded Shoulders gave a giggle to show that he was joking.

  I answered him but kept my eyes fixed on Lady Mary. “Yes, in fact, he was.” If I had not already guessed how she felt about Adrian, her comment would have told me. Mary Weston was not usually the sort of girl who made remarks like that.

  Padded Shoulders, realizing he had committed a gaffe, huffed and puffed and tried to change the subject. Mrs. Hampton came to his rescue with a comment about the lobster patties. Then a footman came up behind Adrian’s shoulder.

  “Lord Castlereagh would like a word with you, my lord,” he said. “He is in the library.”

  “Very well,” Adrian said. “If you will excuse me, Mrs. Hampton, Lady Mary,” his eyes met mine, “Kate.”

  We all chorused that of course we would excuse him. The supper table broke up shortly after he left, and for a moment Lady Mary and I were left alone together.

  I had been in London long enough to have learned what code governed the marriages of most aristocrats, and faithfulness was not included in the rules of the game. Men were always free to play where they desired, while a woman’s duty was to ensure that her firstborn son was her husband’s child. After that she could have as many lovers as she liked, as long as she was discreet.

  I knew that I had no claim to Adrian’s fidelity. I had sworn to myself that I would not burden him with my feelings. I looked into Lady Mary’s serene and lovely face, narrowed my eyes, and said, “Find someone else to love, Lady Mary. Greystone is taken.”

  She stared at me in stupefaction. Finally she managed a faint “I beg your pardon?”

  “It’s quite simple. I am telling you to leave my husband alone.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about, Lady Greystone,” she said.

  She knew perfectly well what I was talking about, but I was not averse to spelling it out. “I am talking about the fact that you are in love with Greystone. I don’t blame you for that. I realize that you knew him before I did. But fate was not on your side, Lady Mary.” I moved a step nearer to her so that our faces were quite close. “Greystone is now married to me, and I take my marriage very seriously.” I narrowed my eyes even more. “Very seriously, Lady Mary, if you take my meaning.”

  The color returned to her face in a rush of blood. “Are you trying to frighten me, Lady Greystone?” she asked incredulously.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “This is incredible,” she said.

  “I know how to use a gun,” I said.

  Her mouth dropped open. “Are you threatening to shoot me?”

  At that moment Sir Charles Prendergast came puffing up with a slightly-less-elderly companion in tow. He hailed me triumphantly. “Lady Greystone!”

  I turned away from Lady Mary, satisfied that she had received my message. “Sir Charles,” I said graciously, “is this the gentleman who is in search of a new hunter?”

  When I had been speaking to Sir Charles previously, I had taken the opportunity to try to stir up some business for Paddy.

  Sir Charles beamed at me. “Indeed it is,” he said. As he made the introductions, Lady Mary walked slowly away.

  * * * *

  If Lady Mary dancing with Adrian was the first notable thing that happened at the Bridgewater ball, the second was the appearance of my uncle.

  He arrived quite late, while I was at supper, and I did not know he was there until I returned to the ballroom and saw him taking the dance floor with Lady Charlotte, the Bridgewaters’ youngest daughter.

  I looked around immediately for Adrian, but he still must have been closeted with Lord Castlereagh, because he was nowhere in sight. The gentleman to whom I had promised this dance was escorting me to the floor, and he must have felt me falter. He stopped, looked down at me with concern, and asked, “Are you all right, Lady Greystone?”

  “I’m fine,” I replied. “I was just surprised to see my uncle—Lord Charlwood—at this particular ball. I did not know he was politically inclined.”

  My escort smiled cynically. “He’s not here because he’s politically inclined, Lady Greystone. He’s here because he’s wealthy and unmarried. The Bridgewaters are trying to marry off Charlotte this year, and Lady Bridgewater has set her sights on Charlwood. The betting in the clubs is that he’s finally met his match.”

  I regarded the unremarkable-looking girl who was standing next to my uncle. “In Lady Charlotte?” I asked.

  “In Lady Bridgewater,” came the dry reply.

  We reached the floor just as the orchestra began to play. It was a quadrille, and we went to join a set that was on the opposite side of the room from my uncle.

  I had become quite adept at the quadrille these last weeks, so I did not have to concentrate on my steps quite so intently as I once had. Consequently, I was aware of the moment when my uncle first noticed me.

  He saw me, and instantly his eyes began to search the room. I thought he must be seeking Adrian, and my own eyes made a quick circle to ascertain if he had surfaced yet. He had not.

  The music played on, and I turned and curtsied and was handed from partner to partner, and all the while I worried about what was going to happen when my uncle and my husband finally met.

  At last the dance ended. I accompanied my partner off the floor, agreeing distractedly to whatever it was that he was chatting about. “The next dance is a waltz, Lady Greystone,” he said as we came to a halt in front of some gilt chairs. “Dare I hope that you are free?”

  A smooth voice from behind me said, “I’m afraid, sir, that my niece has promised this dance to me.”

  “Uncle Martin!”

  I whirled to face him and he bestowed upon me that familiar, fraudulent smile, the one that did not touch his eyes. “You are looking even lovelier than I remembered, Kate,” he said. “Marriage must agree with you.”

  “It agrees with her extremely, Charlwood.” Adrian’s voice was cold. “And my wife has promised this dance to me.”

  I jumped and exclaimed, “Adrian!”

  The men looked daggers at each other over my head. I backed up until my shoulder was touching the safety of Adrian’s arm. I saw Charlwood give one more quick glance around the room, and finally I realized who it was he was looking for.

  Caroline.

  She’s not here. If Adrian had not been standing right behind me, I would have said it. But I knew he would be furious if I mentioned his sister to Charlwood, so I held my tongue. Uncle Martin would realize it without my help soon enough.

  The strains of the waltz lifted through the immense, crowded, candlelit room. Adrian put his hand on my bare shoulder and said, “Kate?”

  I tilted my head back and smiled up at him. For a fraction of a moment his fingers tightened. The icy look on his face warmed into a return smile. Together we turned our backs on my uncle and walked out to the dance floor. Adrian held out his arms and I went into them as if there was nowhere else in the world that I would rather be.

  As, indeed, there was not.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Harry was in trouble. I had suspected it from the way he was acting, and suspicion turned into certainty when I finally remembered—two weeks too late—where I had seen Mr. Chalmers before. I had met him at the racetrack, and he was a gambler.

  “He’s a bad lot, Kate,” Papa had told me. “One of those bloodsuckers that makes his living from draining green youngsters who have more blunt than sense.”

  When I remembered this I had a sinking feeling that my brother-in-law was one of those green youngsters Chalmers had sunk his teeth into. Harry seemed excessively nervous of late, and his angelic countenance was looking decidedly drawn.

  I was not the only one in the family to notice Harry’s state. I heard Caroline tell him that he was looking dreadful and that he had better start to keep earlier hours. And Adr
ian took a long look at him on one of the rare evenings that we were all dining at home, and recommended that he stop trying to burn the candle at both ends.

  He had been keeping late hours, of course, but so were all of us, and we did not look like something that one of my puppies at Greystone had chewed into a limp rag. Harry was getting as many hours in his bed as were the rest of us, and even Louisa, who was much older, had brighter eyes and healthier color than he did.

  Something was preying on his mind, and I was dreadfully afraid that he had gotten into the clutches of that worm Chalmers. Every time I tried to broach the subject to Harry, however, he slipped out of my grasp, pleading some engagement or other that required his immediate departure.

  He was so slippery, in fact, that finally I was forced to set a trap for him. Edward and Caroline had taken little Ned to see the show at Astley’s Amphitheatre, and Caroline had come home raving about the equestrian exhibition and the simulated Great Fire of London. After listening to Caroline, I had the idea to ask Adrian to get tickets to Astley’s for me and Harry, telling my husband that I knew we would both enjoy this performance, which would doubtless bore his much more sophisticated sensibility.

  I had to add the latter comment because when I first broached the subject, Adrian sounded as if he would enjoy coming to Astley’s with us. As I was quite certain that Harry would keep his lips closed tight as a clam if his revered older brother were present, I had to squash this inclination, much as I would have enjoyed my husband’s company.

  Adrian got us seats in the box that provided the best views of the stage and the sawdust ring where the horses performed. I fully intended to take advantage of the time that Harry was cooped up with me to get to the bottom of whatever it was that was bothering him, but I ended up so enraptured with the show that I did nothing for the first hour and a half but ooh and aah at the lavish performance.

  Harry was as entranced as I was, and the two of us hung out of the box together, cheering on the pony races and wildly clapping for the dancing horses.

  It was while they were preparing the stage for the Great Fire that I recollected the reason for my attendance at this marvelous performance. If I was not to miss the finale, I would have to work fast.

  “All right, Harry,” I said, “I know you are in trouble. I know all about the despicable Chalmers. Tell me, how much do you owe him?”

  He started guiltily. Then he mumbled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kate.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes, however, but sat staring intently at the workers on the stage, who were setting up for the Great Fire finale.

  “Yes, you do know,” I countered. “My papa once told me that Chalmers was the kind of bloodsucker who preyed on green youngsters with more blunt than sense. That sounds to me like a good description of you.”

  “Damn it, Kate!” He turned to glare at me. “If you knew Chalmers was a bad ‘un, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t place him until a few days ago,” I confessed. “I had this feeling that I had seen him before, but I couldn’t remember where.”

  Harry brought his open hand down on the balustrade with some force. “Damn it!” he said again.

  “I gather he’s got his teeth into you?” I asked sympathetically.

  “Yes.” Harry sat back and looked at me with desperation written all over his face. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Kate. I owe him twenty thousand pounds!”

  I felt my jaw drop. “Twenty thousand?”

  “Yes.”

  This was an appallingly large sum, completely out of the reach of anything I could help him with. “What happened, Harry? How did he do it to you?”

  He rubbed his hands over his face in a tired gesture. “He took me to a gaming hell, Kate. I was flattered. He seemed such a man of the world, and I was actually flattered that he would bother with a boy like me.” His eyes shut. “God, I was so bloody stupid.”

  It went without saying, but I said it anyway. “You lost.”

  “I lost. When I didn’t have the money to continue, they very graciously accepted my IOUs. I went back a few more times, hoping that the luck would change, you know? When I finally had the sense to stop, I owed twenty thousand pounds. I didn’t have the money to cover my vowels, of course, so Chalmers kindly agreed to loan me the money. He gave me a week to pay him back.”

  I said a word I had heard Papa use sometimes when he was really angry with someone.

  “Yes,” Harry said bleakly. “Exactly.”

  While I thought about Harry’s problem, I watched the men who were shoveling a few piles of manure out of the sawdust pit beneath us. The rich aroma came drifting to my nostrils. I sniffed appreciatively and said, “What I don’t understand in all this, Harry, is how Chalmers can come out ahead. He actually stands to lose his money if you can’t repay him.”

  “I’ve been thinking about the whole scheme, Kate, and what I think is that Chalmers is in partnership with the owner of that hell he took me to. The gig probably is that Chalmers lures in the victim, and in return he gets a commission on what the dupe loses.”

  “But nobody makes any money if you can’t repay them!”

  He gave me an anguished look. “They know who I am, Kate. If I don’t repay them, they’ll go to Adrian.”

  I didn’t say anything. I knew without him telling me that Harry would give everything he owned to prevent his brother from finding out how he had been gulled.

  The little boy in the box next to us began to whine, “When is it going to start again, Mama?”

  “Soon, dear,” came the soothing reply.

  Harry averted his face and said, “God, Kate! What is he going to think of me if he finds this out? First I pull that bloody stupid stunt and get sent down from Oxford. And now—this.”

  I did my best to reassure him. “He might not be as horrified as you think, Harry. He was actually worried that something like this might happen. He told me that an untried boy loose in London could get into a great deal of trouble, and he didn’t have the time to look after you properly.”

  Harry’s mouth tightened. “So that was his opinion of me.”

  “Not just of you, Harry! Of any untried boy thrown on London without proper guidance.”

  He turned his head and looked at me, and his expression was bleak. “Would this have happened to Adrian had he been thrown on the town when he was twenty?”

  This time I was the one to look away. We both knew that it would not.

  “I don’t want Adrian to know about this, Kate,” Harry said with quiet desperation.

  I understood. I sighed. “Well, then, we are going to have to find a way to come up with twenty thousand pounds to pay off that worm Chalmers.”

  We looked at each other gloomily. The chances of either of us being able to lay our hands on twenty thousand pounds was remote, to say the least.

  In the box next to us, the impatient little boy began to bang on the balustrade.

  Harry said, “I was thinking of trying to steal back my IOUs. If they don’t have the vowels, they have no proof that I owe them anything.”

  “Harry, what a brilliant idea!”

  He gave me a wry smile. “The idea may be brilliant, but the execution is going to be somewhat more difficult.”

  “Who has the vowels? Chalmers?”

  “I think so.” He ran a nervous hand through his hair, making the carefully disordered locks his valet had arranged earlier look even more natural. “The first time I borrowed from him, I had the cash to pay him back. I went to his lodging the following morning, gave him the blunt, and he returned my vowel. He took it out of a locked desk drawer. I watched him.”

  “Then we must break into his lodging, shoot the lock off the drawer, and steal the vowels.” I beamed at him. “What could be simpler?”

  He gave a shaky laugh. “You’re a great girl, Kate, but I can’t involve you in this. Adrian would kill me if he ever found out that I had put you in any kind of danger.”

  “Adrian would p
robably be glad to get rid of me so that he could marry that saintly Lady Mary Weston,” I said darkly.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Harry said. “Of course he wouldn’t. Who would want to marry a tedious girl like that after he’d been married to you?”

  I gave him a grateful smile. “That is nice of you, Harry.”

  “It ain’t nice, it’s the truth.”

  At last the orchestra began to play. Harry and I both whipped around toward the stage, which seemed to ignite before our very eyes! The Great Fire of London had begun.

  * * * *

  All the way home in the carriage, Harry and I traded ideas about how to break into Chalmers’s lodging house. I finally managed to convince him that one of my schemes would work perfectly.

  Harry was to introduce Chalmers to me, and I would tell the worm how much I loved to wager and ask him to take me to a gaming hell. I would accompany him to the hell, and then, while Chalmers was safely engaged with me, Harry would break into his lodging and steal back his vowels.

  “You’ll probably even win,” Harry told me. “I did, the first time I went. I think it’s part of the scheme. Then, once you start losing, you go on playing because you know you’ve won once, and you keep thinking you’re bound to start winning again.”

  It seemed to me that Harry had figured out the scheme pretty well and, if only he could get his IOUs back, the experience would be nothing but beneficial. By the time we reached home he was looking decidedly more cheerful.

  Caroline and Edward were dining with friends, and Paddy and Louisa were out too, but Adrian was home, and as we ate one of Remy’s chicken fricassee dinners, Harry and I told him all about the show. When I finished describing the Great Fire, Adrian said dryly, “It was probably a finale like that that burned the last amphitheater down.”

  I laughed and agreed. “But it was splendid to watch.”

  I had noticed that Frank, the young footman who was standing behind Adrian’s chair, had been listening to my description with breathless attention, and now I said to him, “If you and some of the other footmen and the maids would like to see the show, Frank, I’m sure his lordship would be happy to get you tickets.”