A Scandalous Wager

by Cassandra Samuels

  ‘I made sure that Blackhurst got what he deserved and now I will make sure you do too,’ Dalmere snarled.

  It was like the pieces of a puzzle coming together. Dalmere had killed Nathaniel and now he planned to kill her.

  She found a scream rising in her throat as he reached out for her.

  ***

  Oliver ignored the smells invading his nostrils as he manoeuvred himself around carriages and carts, trying to find a hackney. It was a good two miles from the gardens to his aunt’s house in Grosvenor Square. He needed to get to her, and quick. He should never have suggested she go to the luncheon. The exertion must have been too much for her. This was all his fault. His guilt made him feel like casting up his accounts.

  ‘Bellamy!’

  Oliver looked around but the road was too congested with carriages, horses and pedestrians to identify who had called out.

  ‘Bellamy! Over here,’ the voice called again. He recognised it as Tony. What was he doing here?

  Oliver looked behind him and saw his friend waving out of a hackney window.

  Oliver skirted around a fishmonger’s wares to cross the road to where Tony was holding the door open for him. He vaulted inside.

  Tony clapped him on the back. ‘I thought you were going to Vauxhall? I was just on my way to find you. I have news —’

  Oliver shook his head. ‘It will have to wait. I have to go to my aunt. She needs me.’

  ‘I don’t understand why —’

  ‘She is ill and the surgeon has been called.’ Oliver looked at his pocket watch in distress. He could not afford the delay that Tony would no doubt bring.

  He banged on the roof and instructed the driver to go to his aunt’s address.

  Tony stuck his head out the window and told the driver to wait.

  ‘What the devil?’

  ‘Oliver, I’ve just left your aunt. She’s fine,’ Tony said.

  ‘What do you mean, you’ve just been there?’ Confusion warred with his guilty conscience over his aunt’s health. ‘Why would you have been at Aunt Petunia’s?’

  ‘If you will stop interrupting, I’ll tell you.’

  When Oliver reluctantly nodded Tony said, ‘I was looking for you. Lady Fortesque’s butler informed me you had left the luncheon. I went to your house but you were not there. I went to Lady Blackhurst’s but her butler is nothing but a closed-lipped, livery-clad stick-in-the-mud and he told me only that her ladyship was not receiving. I went to your aunt’s next where she insisted I come in. I was hoping she would tell me where you were. It took a bit of getting to the point but she did tell me some interesting information about your brother and his hatred for Blackhurst.’

  ‘My brother did not kill Blackhurst,’ Oliver insisted.

  ‘I have no doubt on the matter, but he did hate him. So did many others apparently, including your friend Dalmere.’

  The carriage jerked and moved a little causing both men to grab for their doors to stay seated.

  ‘Dalmere?’ Oliver asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Tony said, running his fingers through his hair. ‘We will have to make sure Lady Blackhurst stays put until we can determine for sure.’ Tony looked contrite for a moment. ‘Oliver, I have to tell you it was Dalmere who hired me to investigate her although he did use his uncle’s name and not his own. It was this that sparked my suspicions about him. I know he is a friend of yours but I have reason to believe he killed Blackhurst. Oliver, are you alright? You’ve gone as pale as a ghost.’

  Oliver already had his hand on the handle of the door. ‘Tony, I’ve just left Lisbeth with Dalmere at the gardens.’

  Tony swore but Oliver was already out of the hack, running, ducking and weaving down the street. He hurdled over dogs and skidded around carts in his desperation to get back to the gardens and Lisbeth. How could he have been so blind?

  He had to get to her, but all before him stretched like an endless winding road. The distance between him and the gates to the gardens felt miles away. Time ticked in slow motion. What would he do if he did not get there in time? How would he live if something happened to her?

  She had his heart, had for weeks.

  He loved her.

  He needed her.

  ‘Lisbeth,’ he said in a pained voice, increasing his speed.

  His chest heaved with exertion and his thighs burned, but he didn’t care. Bloody, bloody hell! Dalmere had been under their noses the whole time. How had they not connected him with Blackhurst? Dalmere used his own connection with Henry to play me, Oliver thought. It was like Dalmere had orchestrated this whole mess with Lisbeth, Tony and the speculation. What then of the Black Raven Wager and his insistence that she was not to be trusted? Had he been setting him up?

  Tony had distrusted Lisbeth too but he knew Tony would never have run all around London looking for him unless he knew his information about Dalmere was accurate. This only made him more anxious about Lisbeth. He had to have her safe in his arms. But first he was going to kill Dalmere.

  Tony caught up to him but they exchanged no words just kept on running. Finally, the gates of Vauxhall gardens appeared. They didn’t stop to pay the entry fee but ran right past and into the crowd.

  ‘Eh? Nobody gets through my gates wifout payin’,’ the gate keeper yelled as, at his direction, his thug took off in pursuit of Oliver and Tony.

  Oliver pointed towards where the balloon ascension was being held and they both headed for the crowd. Damn! How would they find Lisbeth in this crush? Both of them started to ask people if they had seen Lady Blackhurst. One gentleman pointed towards the path that led to the supper tents.

  The thug was catching up, yelling for them to stop. ‘Hey, ya buggars. I’m coming after ya, I am. Ya better stop now or else I’m gunna have to thump ya.’

  Tony and Oliver started running again. If the thug kept following them he’d be useful as a witness when they found Dalmere.

  Panic swelled when he saw how many supper tents, all identical, were lined up on both sides of the path, ready to please the crowd after the ascension. He tamped it down. He used every technique he had ever learnt in the army to control his emotions and do his job. He concentrated on his breathing. Find her.

  ‘You take one side I’ll take the other,’ Oliver instructed.

  That’s when they heard her scream.

  ***

  Dalmere laughed again when he saw she was about to scream the tent down. ‘Save your breath, Lady Blackhurst. Screaming in a place like this will only give you a sore throat and that is my job, eventually. One doesn’t want to rush these things. I want to enjoy toying with you like your husband toyed with me.’

  Lisbeth’s eyes burned with tears but she didn’t want Dalmere to see them. She looked around the tent searching for any possible escape route. The tents were pegged down tightly at the bottom with the only opening being at the front. She watched him as he took a long swallow from a flask he’d just taken out of his jacket pocket.

  He took another swig while he considered her. ‘I had hoped to save us both from this unpleasant business, but like an irritating fly you would not leave. I thought that the trial would get you out of the way, but somehow you managed to elude execution or even transportation.’ He shook his head. ‘It was inconceivable.’

  He recapped the flask and returned it to his pocket. ‘Technicalities are the bane of our legal system it seems. Then I thought to make your life a living misery by spreading some malicious rumours.’

  Lisbeth’s mouth fell open. ‘You started all those rumours about me?’

  He gave her a self-satisfied smile. She wanted to slap him, but that would mean placing herself within his reach.

  ‘Such a cunning plan if I do say so myself,’ he said. ‘The Black Raven idea was mine too. It took off with the ferocity of a tenement fire. I couldn’t have been more pleased at the time. I have to admit I thought it would drive you over the pond, or even to the Americas, but you are one stubborn female.’ He studied her for a moment as she edged a l
ittle more along the wall.

  ‘I had nothing to do with Nathaniel’s plans.’ Lisbeth tried to take a step towards the entrance but he quickly blocked her off. His eyes were so dark with anger they were nearly black.

  ‘Oh but you were. I realised that he intended for the two of you to run off. Vanish with all our money, so I killed him. I shot the miserable bastard and I don’t regret it.’ Dalmere laughed then. ‘He thought himself so clever trying to trick me with that note. Not so clever once he was dead though was he?’

  ‘But if you killed him how were you to get your money?’

  ‘You. You were going to give it back. Only you wouldn’t bloody give it back, would you? Were you planning to run off with it like you and Blackhurst had planned? Live like a queen in some colonial backwater?’

  ‘No! I swear you have it all wrong. I never knew of his plans. He never discussed anything with me. He hated me.’

  ‘Not as much as we all hated you. Not as much as I hate you now.’

  ‘Dalmere, don’t do this. I’ll give you all the money you want.’

  ‘Your stalling tactics are admirable, but they won’t work on me. I suppose you think Bellamy will come and save you. He won’t you know. I think he will be relieved, actually, once you are dead. With you out of the picture he can do as he originally planned and marry a rich heiress and rebuild his life. Thanks to his brother, he is quite in the suds. It is all a bit pathetic actually.’

  She watched as he took another swig from his flask. He wasn’t as calm as his voice indicated. His face was sheened in sweat, he was agitated and tense. His whole body radiated with repressed energy.

  ‘Bellamy came to me that night trying to find a way to get some money. I suggested the Black Raven Wager. Didn’t think you’d let him in, of course, because you never had before, but look how well it worked out?’ He gestured around them. ‘He has been collecting a tidy sum and you have been helping him.’

  She knew of Oliver’s financial situation, but Dalmere did not know she knew. Nor did he seem to know that Oliver had not collected on any of the wagers bar the first one. He was trying to taunt her, make her think Oliver did not care for her. She knew her heart. Despite her efforts a tear slipped unbidden down her cheek. She wiped it away but not quickly enough that Dalmere did not see it.

  ‘Ah, I see that you have feelings for him. Your eyes tell me everything. He would never have married you in any case, surely you know that?’

  She knew, had perhaps always known, but these last few weeks had been so joyous she had let her mind and her heart think otherwise.

  ‘Tainting his family line would be just as bad as the scandal his poverty would have had on his reputation. He would not risk his family name for you,’ Dalmere explained. ‘It is all he has, after all, thanks to Blackhurst.’

  Lisbeth knew she should not let his words wound her but they did, simply because she knew what he was saying was essentially true. Although, she had hoped that her reputation would simply fade away, or that the ton would get bored with hating her. She had been fooling herself. A woman’s reputation was all she had and Lisbeth had lost all respectability long ago. Thanks to Bellamy she had come to be barely tolerated by the ton but she knew she would never be able to remove the stain of her past.

  She turned all her anger and hurt towards Dalmere in a look that should have made him burst into flames and combust right then and there.

  Instead he laughed. ‘Oh, did you think he would? What a fool you are.’

  Oliver might never have married her but he loved her. She could feel it with every beat of her heart. Whatever his feelings about her he would never have knowingly placed her into the hands of this mad man who wanted to kill her.

  Dalmere went over to the curtained entrance and pulled the curtain cord from its hook, winding it around his hands.

  Lisbeth gasped. Her heart stilled in the cold knowledge that she would never see Oliver again. Never get to tell him how much she loved him.

  ‘You don’t know how long I have dreamed of killing you,’ Dalmere said as he advanced. ‘There are so many ways to kill, you see. I decided the most enjoyable way would be strangulation.’ He gave the rope a quick tug as if to test its sturdiness. ‘It’s fairly quick. It’s not messy and, well, I think I will take much pleasure in watching the life fade from your eyes.’

  Lisbeth couldn’t take her eyes off the rope. She was trapped like a wounded animal and panic had set in. Now she was almost panting with distress. No, this was not how she wanted her life to end.

  She used all her might, and all the courage she could muster, and slapped him hard across the face. The sound of her palm connecting with his cheek echoed through the tent as she scrambled to get to the entrance.

  ‘You bitch!’ He lurched for her and Lisbeth screamed and knocked over everything that she could get her hands on, kicking out at Dalmere with all her might.

  Nathaniel had liked it when she fought him; Dalmere seemed to like it too. There was no escape. Tears sprang in her eyes but she forced them back. She would not die meekly.

  He put the cord around her neck and she tried to scream again. He swung her around and onto the ground. She looked straight into his eyes. She was mad to think he had an ounce of humanity in him.

  Her hands came up to the rope at her neck. The pressure was uncomfortable but she could still breathe. Dalmere was breathing hard. He pulled the rope tighter. Lisbeth gasped against the pressure on her throat. ‘I should have shot you like I did Blackhurst and have done with you,’ he said as he put even more pressure on her throat.

  Lisbeth tried to kick out but the tent was getting dim.

  She gasped but no air came to relieve the heaviness in her chest. Oliver. I love you. I’m sorry.

  ***

  Oliver flew inside the tent, grabbed Dalmere off Lisbeth and threw him onto his back. Dalmere’s expression was shocked. Oliver looked over at Lisbeth lying motionless on the ground. Dalmere distracted him by rolling back to his feet and throwing a punch that landed wide on Oliver’s cheek. Oliver gave him an uppercut to the jaw that sent Dalmere sprawling again. Blood oozed from the side of Dalmere’s mouth.

  ‘You’re too late, Bellamy. I’ve already killed her.’ Dalmere chuckled.

  ‘Tony?’ Oliver demanded.

  Tony knelt by Lisbeth’s side. ‘She’s alive,’ he said.

  ‘No!’ Dalmere replied. He elbowed Oliver in the chest, but Oliver was focused now on one thing. Punishing Dalmere. He punched Dalmere again and again, only mildly satisfied by the sound of bones breaking.

  ‘Stop!’ Dalmere pleaded his voice thin and pathetic now.

  ‘I should kill you,’ Oliver said in a snarl. He grabbed Dalmere and brought him to his feet. ‘But I’ll let the law do that.’

  Dalmere kicked out and caught Oliver in the shin. Oliver swore and grabbed Dalmere’s arm and pulled it back until he heard it pop. Dalmere howled in pain and Oliver shoved him out the tent door and onto the gravel path. The thug was standing there, looking down at Dalmere.

  ‘Did you hear his confession?’ Oliver asked the thug.

  ‘I did,’ the thug replied, looking down at the pitiful sight before him.

  Dalmere was still swearing and spitting blood onto the path.

  ‘Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.’ Oliver went straight back to Lisbeth’s side.

  Lisbeth looked up at him and started to cry. He could tell she was in pain and he wanted to soothe her. He picked her up, kissed her on the forehead and said. ‘Hush now. You’re safe, Lisbeth. I have you.’

  She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder.

  Tony appeared beside him. ‘I’ve tied Dalmere up.’

  ‘There is a surgeon at the balloon ascension. I could go fetch him for ya,’ offered the thug.

  ‘I’d be much obliged,’ Oliver replied.

  The man took off at a run. Tony indicated to a bench and Oliver sat down with Lisbeth in his lap. Her breaths were shallow and harsh but at least she was breathing.<
br />
  ‘I’ve never been so scared in all my life. I am so sorry, Lisbeth. I should never have left you with him,’ he whispered into her hair.

  ‘It’s a good thing you didn’t kill him,’ Tony said, glancing back towards the moaning Dalmere. ‘It will be so much the better to send him to some place resembling hell, before he actually ends up there.’

  Oliver could only agree but he didn’t care about what was to happen to Dalmere as long as the bastard couldn’t get anywhere near Lisbeth again.

  A few minutes later the sound of carriage wheels heralded the arrival of the surgeon, who jumped out and began to examine Lisbeth immediately.

  ‘Well?’ asked Oliver impatiently, as the surgeon took his time examining Lisbeth’s neck.

  ‘She’s lucky to be alive,’ he replied. ‘I won’t know the extent of the damage to her vocal cords until she has had time to rest.’

  The surgeon then spoke to Lisbeth directly. ‘You must not talk under any circumstances, Lady Blackhurst, until I am satisfied you are ready. Is that clear?’

  Lisbeth gave the slightest nod but winced again. Her throat felt like she had swallowed broken glass. The surgeon gave her a sympathetic smile and then ordered her to be put into the carriage. Inside, Oliver gathered her up in his arms again. The surgeon climbed in, frowned at the scene, but tapped on the ceiling to tell the driver to go. Lisbeth was glad of Oliver’s warmth and did not care what the surgeon may think of them.

  ‘How long until we know the extent of the damage?’ Oliver asked.

  ‘A few days at least, maybe a week. She has some nasty abrasions from the rope which will take some time to heal. Her voice, if it has not been too damaged, will still be hoarse for some time. She will have some trouble swallowing. The bloodshot eyes are from the pressure. They should also heal within a few days.’

  ‘She seems to still have trouble breathing,’ Oliver stated.

  ‘Yes, she will be quite shallow of breath for a while and the wheezing is also normal. I will, however, be keeping a close eye on her for the next twenty-four hours.’

  ‘Thank you. I am glad you will be attending her.’

  Lisbeth listened to the conversation but of course stayed silent even though she had a million of her own questions. Oliver smoothed her hair. It felt nice. It felt right to be in his arms. She had her eyes closed but was fully aware of where she was.