Gambling on a Scoundrel

by Sheridan Jeane

  Lucien didn't say anything, but just tugged open the door of the carriage and waited for the two ladies to enter.

  Millicent snorted. "I'm not surprised. Up until last week he hadn't even decided whether or not to accept it."

  Tempy looked from Millicent back to Lucien. "What is she talking about?"

  Lucien shot Millicent an irritated frown.

  "Don't look at me that way," Millicent said, obviously nonplussed by his ire. "You had plenty of time to tell her on the train. She's bound to figure it out on her own soon enough."

  He glanced over his shoulder at the crowded station and said, "If you'll kindly enter the carriage, I'll explain en route."

  Tempy hesitated and then acquiesced. The carriage was open, and as it sprang forward onto the street, the cool breeze against her face was pleasant change from the stuffy air of the train car.

  For a moment, she lost herself in her enjoyment of the city as she took in the bright blue skies above the perfectly sculpted architecture of Bath. Each front door was centered with precision, anchoring the symmetry of its edifice. The honey-colored stone facades and the nearly identical mansard roofs made the buildings seem as though they were standing at attention, or perhaps in a slightly relaxed military parade rest. She'd heard that Bath was beautiful, but this was beyond her expectations. As the carriage moved north along the road, she could only catch glimpses of a river off in the distance to her right. A number of hotels blocked her view, but then they came upon an open park, which finally provided her with a clear view to the river. "It's so pleasant here," she murmured.

  "Perhaps that's why it has endured so long," Lucien replied. "When the Romans found that the ancient Celts had discovered hot springs here, they dubbed the city Aquae Sulis and built elaborate baths. The city has been continuously inhabited ever since then. The entire town exists because of a geological curiosity," Lucien said.

  Tempy remembered the question she'd asked and turned away from the view to glance over at Lucien. "You put me off earlier. Why are you being so enigmatic? I'm beginning to suspect that someone gave you property here."

  "In a manner of speaking, yes. I inherited it from my uncle. He passed away about a month ago."

  "I'm sorry for your loss," Tempy said automatically.

  Lucien shrugged one shoulder. "We weren't close. I hadn't seen him in years."

  "Look over to the right," Millicent said, gesturing. "This is the Parade Park. There's a nice view of the river from here."

  Tempy glanced over politely, but the conversation inside the carriage was much more interesting than the view out there. She turned back to Lucien. "He left you a house here in Bath and an estate in Exmoor?"

  He nodded.

  Millicent chuckled and then cleared her throat. "Along with a title."

  Lucien shot Millicent an annoyed glare.

  "Don't look at me that way," Millicent scolded. "She'll find out soon enough when you arrive in Exmoor tomorrow and everyone starts my lording you."

  "What title?" Tempy asked, startled by the revelation.

  "Earl of Cavendish," Millicent said, not without glee.

  The carriage turned onto a new road, and they began heading away from the river.

  "You're the new earl everyone's been speculating about?" Tempy asked, confused by the news. "But I thought his last name was Prescot, not Hamlin."

  "I took a different name when I decided to open a casino," he said, "in deference to my father's wishes."

  "That explains why no one's been able to identify you yet," Tempy said, almost to herself. This was quite the story. "When do you plan to announce your identity?"

  That put a sour expression on Lucien's face. "I've been delaying that for as long as possible. At first, I wasn't even certain I wanted to accept it. And now, I'd prefer completing the sale of my casino before word gets out. John sent a message that he'll have his offer ready by the time I return from this trip."

  He looked conflicted. There must be more to the story of how he'd come to be the Earl of Cavendish than he was revealing. Considering that he'd wanted to reject his inheritance, whatever it was must be significant. And to think he'd been dealing with all of this while she'd pushed her own personal problems onto his plate. How could she have been so oblivious? She should have realized that something was troubling him.

  Tempy shot Lucien a sympathetic look. "I hope you know that I'd never reveal something like that."

  When some of the tension eased from his face, she realized he'd been afraid of just that. He'd actually thought she might betray him. It hurt to know he'd trusted her so little. She turned away to hide how deeply this slight cut her.

  In an effort to distract herself, Tempy focused on the world outside the carriage and noticed that they had moved into a residential area. In the nearby park, little girls pranced around in their pinafores while a group of boys used sticks to roll their hoops along the side of the street. When the carriage turned onto Gay Street and headed up a hill, some women pushing prams along the paved sidewalk greeted one another and stopped to chat.

  Millicent cleared her throat. "Are we expected at your house in Somerset, or will it be a surprise visit?"

  "We're expected. To my knowledge, it's been some time since either of the last two Earls of Cavendish visited there. I'm sure there's work they postponed. And anyway," Lucien said, "I'd prefer sleeping in a room that's been properly aired out."

  The road they were on curved around a large grassy circle at the top of the hill and continued on toward their destination. The pale buildings facing the street had a curved, uniform façade that cupped around the small park as though holding it in a great stone hand. Their smoking chimneys thrust skyward at neat and orderly intervals.

  Tempy was disappointed when they left the circle behind them. "That was such a lovely area," she commented.

  "If you like that, just wait until you see the area they call the Royal Crescent," Millicent said.

  "It's not much farther," Lucien added.

  They continued down a street lined with identical townhouses until they came upon an enormous open common.

  "This is it," Millicent said. "The Royal Crescent. I like to think of it as the crown jewel of Bath. What do you think?"

  The road curved around a large, crescent-shaped grassy area that descended toward a stand of trees, and along the right side of the road rose a curved building. At least, Tempy thought it was a single building until she realized that it was made up of individual homes, all with nearly identical facades. Only the precise shade of the golden limestone varied from one home to the next.

  Tempy turned to face the large common. "What a spectacular view. I can see all the way down the hillside to the river. Can you imagine waking up each morning to such a sight?"

  "I'm trying to," Lucien said in an enigmatic tone.

  The carriage pulled to a stop in front of one of the entrances, and Lucien leaned forward to release the catch on the carriage door.

  Tempy looked at his back with surprise as he exited the carriage. "We're getting out?"

  "Yes," he said patiently. "Unless you want to take a tour of Bath right now. I thought you'd prefer to be shown to your room."

  Tempy's jaw dropped as she looked up at the imposing building. "This is one of your properties?" She took his proffered hand as she stepped out of the carriage.

  "Yes," he said. "I assume it meets with your approval?"

  Tempy grinned at him. "How could it not, with a view like this?"

  There was a general flurry once they entered the house. The servants seemed both excited and nervous that Lucien had arrived. The housekeeper showed Tempy and Millicent to their adjoining rooms, while Lucien remained downstairs, conferring with the butler.

  The deep-gold curtains at the floor-to-ceiling windows of Tempy's bedroom were thrown wide, letting the sunshine stream into the room, and someone had set a cheery fire in the limestone fireplace to drive the chill from the room.

  Tempy rested her hand on the
burnt-orange fringe at the edge of the curtains and peered out over the common, soaking in the view of the open, grassy area and the trees and city beyond it that seemed to fall away into to the river below.

  At the soft knock at the door, Tempy turned away from the window. "Come in," she said.

  Millicent entered the room, smiling broadly at Tempy. "I'm so glad we came. I think we'll have a wonderful time. But we need to remember that this trip does have a purpose."

  Tempy looked at her blankly. Between Lucien's revelation about his title and the opulence of this house, everything else had been driven from her mind. But now she remembered. "Of course. Ernest."

  "Yes. There was a message waiting for me in my room. I asked a friend to send me news regarding Ernest's accommodations here in Bath. It seems that he arrived last night with Clarisse's family, and they are staying at a house near the circle we passed through. Unless their plans change, Ernest and Clarisse will be walking right past Lucien's house this evening on their way to dinner at an address over in the Marlborough building."

  "Walking?" Tempy smiled indulgently. "That sounds like my Ernest. He loves to walk whenever he's able. But how can you be so sure they'll be on foot?"

  "I can't, but even if they take a carriage, they're certain to drive past here."

  Tempy nodded. "Who would want to miss this view? I think we can count on them taking this route."

  After they freshened up, Tempy and Millicent located Lucien and outlined their plan.

  Lucien sent Boothby to reconnoiter, and presently a message arrived from him. Yes, Mr. Lipscomb would be leaving at precisely seven o'clock that evening, and yes, he and his fiancée planned to walk to their dinner engagement.

  "How does he do that?" Tempy asked, not really expecting an answer.

  Lucien chuckled. "That's why I wanted to bring him with us. That young man has a talent for this sort of thing. Sometimes I think he knows what people will do even before they've decided to do it. It's uncanny."

  Millicent looked startled. "You aren't suggesting he reads minds, are you?"

  Lucien laughed. "No, nothing like that. He's simply observant, and he's also quite good at chatting up other people's servants."

  Tempy tucked that bit of information away to use later. A man like Boothby could be quite useful in certain situations. Such as the one she found herself in right now.

  Rather than positioning herself to watch the street on the ground floor, Tempy chose to move upstairs, which afforded her a better view. Since the road was curved, it was easy to see all the way to the spot where Ernest would appear. Shortly after seven, she spotted him as he and that horrid French woman turned onto the Royal Crescent. Tempy did a little jig and then sped down the stairs toward the marble entry hall.

  In her rush, Tempy turned on the slick marble floor a bit too quickly, and her heel nearly slid out from under her. Fortunately, she still had hold of the banister, and she kept herself from falling, but the incident reminded her to slow down. How did that saying go again? For want of a shoe, the horse was lost, for want of a rider, the kingdom was lost? It would be foolish to lose Ernest over something so trivial. She slowed her pace and entered the main salon, where Ernest and Millicent awaited.

  "They're on the street," she announced. "They should be here within a couple of minutes."

  They had debated over the precise location of the accidental meeting, and they finally agreed that it would be best to have Ernest see them exiting the house. That way, he would be unlikely to think Tempy had followed him to Bath. But the plan required precise timing.

  Millicent stood and donned her ostrich feather hat. "This should help him identify us," she commented. Apparently she was aware of how distinctive her hat made her. Tempy had wondered about that.

  A moment later, they heard a sharp knock on the front door. It was Boothby's signal that the couple was nearing the entrance.

  Millicent took the lead, with her ostrich feather fluttering as she moved. Tempy and Lucien followed her out the door. Tempy slid her hand around Lucien's arm as they moved out onto the sidewalk. She carefully kept her gaze directed toward the ground because she wanted Ernest to find her, and not vice versa.

  She wasn't disappointed.

  "Mrs. Kidman?" Ernest asked. "Is that you?"

  Tempy held her breath.

  "Mr. Lipscomb!" Millicent cried, evidently delighted to see him. Tempy fervently hoped her friend didn't ruin everything by overacting. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here. I had no idea you were in Bath."

  "Nor I you. What brings you here?"

  "I'm escorting Miss Bliss," she said, stepping aside so that Tempy was now face-to-face with Ernest.

  When Ernest's gaze met hers, his jaw dropped. "Tempy?"

  "Mr. Lipscomb? What on earth are you doing in Bath?" She shot him a look filled with suspicion. "This is quite a coincidence. First Hamlin House and now this? If I didn't know better, I'd think you were..." She left the words "following me" unsaid, but nonetheless, Ernest turned a bright shade of red.

  "Uh, yes. I mean, I see."

  "And I must remind you, please remember to call me Miss Bliss. I believe your fiancée might also prefer that you do so."

  Ernest glanced at Clarisse, and although the woman continued to smile, her eyes narrowed fractionally as she examined Tempy.

  Lucien must have noticed as well, because he smiled at Clarisse and bowed slightly. "Enchanté, mademoiselle."

  Tempy glanced up at Lucien and was startled by the admiring look he was giving Clarisse. He was throwing himself into the role with entirely too much enthusiasm. Surely everyone would see through his ruse, wouldn't they? And that Clarisse person! Tempy could swear the woman was simpering at him. Between Millicent's reaction at seeing Ernest and Lucien fawning over Clarisse, Ernest was certain to see through their little scene.

  Tempy clenched her teeth and smiled. "How pleasant to see you, Miss Beaumont. Are you touring our country?" she asked, hoping to underscore the other woman's foreignness.

  "But it will soon be my country too," she replied. Her sharp little teeth were bright when she smiled.

  Detestable woman.

  "There's nothing quite like England," Lucien said, saving Tempy from saying something she might regret. "Of course, there's also nothing quite like France. I love them both."

  "When you return to London," Clarisse said, "you'll find some news waiting for you. But it will keep." She smiled at that, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

  "What brings you to Bath?" Ernest asked.

  Tempy dragged her thoughts away from the self-satisfied expression Clarisse wore to reply to Ernest. "Lucien invited me and Millicent for a visit. It was very kind of him, wasn't it? I've never been to Bath before." Why on earth did Clarisse look so smug?

  "I didn't know you wanted to come here," Ernest said, sounding defensive. He cast Lucien a peevish look. "I would have been happy to bring you."

  "Would you?" Tempy cocked her head to one side. "How odd that you never offered."

  "I-I suppose I always thought of you as a Londoner," Ernest stammered, "like your father. He hated to travel."

  "Yes. Strange for a man who owned railroads, wasn't it?" She locked gazes with him, almost daring him to glance away as the seconds ticked by.

  Lucien cleared his throat. "I can't tell you how pleased I am to be able to introduce you to more of England," he commented. Ernest glanced at him with a slightly bemused expression "It's a joy to travel with someone who is uninhibited in showing their delight with the world." Lucien took her hand and tucked it around his arm, giving it a possessive squeeze as he gazed down at her.

  A small thrill of pleasure traveled through her at his words of approval. Lucien always knew exactly what to say.

  "Miss Bliss, whatever are you doing in Bath?" a man said.

  Tempy glanced down the street to see who was speaking and spied a heavyset older man with a full white beard bearing down on them. "Mr. Trevor," she said, startled to see the p
resident of the Bliss Railways' board of directors. She automatically tightened her grip on Lucien's arm, but then forced herself to relax it. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you as well. Are you here on holiday?"

  "No. I'm here on business. I assume that means you didn't read the memo I sent out two days ago." He looked irritated with her, which was typical. "We're having some problems with our Bath line and I've come to oversee things personally."

  Tempy frowned. "But Mr. Shane is in charge of the Bath office. He's handling negotiations. I've always found him to be extremely competent."

  Mr. Trevor let out a harrumph of annoyance. "I suppose that means you plan to interfere."

  "I beg your pardon, Mr. Trevor, but it appears that you are the one planning to interfere. I may only be a shareholder..."

  "Let's not mince words, Miss Bliss. As the majority shareholder, your influence is significant."

  "I was attempting to be diplomatic, Mr. Trevor. But in response to your earlier statement, yes, I read your memo. I responded as well. Did you not read it?"

  Trevor flushed. "And did you read the additional memo I sent out regarding the issue of your notoriety? These newspaper articles about you must end. They reflect poorly on Bliss Railways."

  "What's this?" Ernest interrupted. "You know those articles are filled with nothing but half-truths and conjecture. Our Miss Bliss is nothing like the person Earl E. Byrd portrays in his articles."

  "Our Miss Bliss?" Clarisse repeated in an icy tone.

  Ernest frowned at her. "Tempy has been like a member of my family for years."

  "Mr. Trevor," Lucien interrupted, "are you suggesting that you believe Miss Bliss is to blame for what Mr. Byrd is writing? Because that strikes me as a rather harsh point of view. Anyone who knows her realizes that his stories are false."

  Bright patches of color crept up from beneath Mr. Trevor's white beard. He might have looked jolly if not for the anger darkening his eyes. "My primary concern is for Bliss Railways."

  Lucien narrowed his eyes. "But since Miss Bliss owns the majority of shares, shouldn't her well-being also be your concern?"