Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘But everyone said—’

  ‘I know what everyone said, but that particular rumour was spread by one of Mr Edmonds’s friends, Mr Warwick. He was angry because I would not take an IOU from him last week and sent him home before supper.’

  ‘Ay, yes, I remember Mr Warwick.’ Mrs Wilby nodded.

  ‘It was quite clear that he was drinking too much and was in no fit state to be in a respectable establishment.’

  ‘And in no fit state to play at cards, which is more to the point,’ added Susannah. ‘But he did make me a very handsome apology later, so he is forgiven.’ She jumped up. ‘But enough of this. I am for the Pump Room, then back via Duffields, to find something to read. Will you come with me?’

  ‘Gladly. I hope we shall find old friends at the Pump Room to converse with.’

  Susannah’s eyes twinkled wickedly.

  ‘And I hope we shall find new friends to invite to our next card party!’

  Chapter Two

  The damp February weather made for a dirty journey north, but Jasper spent only one night on the road and arrived at Mrs Barnabus’s house at Hotwells shortly after mid-day. He was ushered in by a butler whose sombre mien led him to wonder if he had maligned his relative, and she was in fact at death’s door. However, when he was shown into the elegant drawing room, Mrs Barnabus appeared to be in her usual state of health. She came forwards to meet him, hands held out and shawls trailing from her thin shoulders.

  ‘Markham, my dear cousin, how good of you to call.’ Her voice was as frail as her person, but Jasper knew there was a will of iron inside the waif-like body. He took the hand held out to him and kissed it punctiliously. The fingers curled around his hand like claws. ‘So good of you to come out of your way, when you know I have no room to put you up here.’

  ‘Yes, wasn’t it?’ he replied cheerfully.

  She sank on to the sofa, trying to pull him down with her, but he freed himself and drew up a chair.

  ‘You are on your way back to London, Markham?’

  ‘Yes. I hope to reach Corsham tonight. Well, Gloriana, what can I do for you?’

  Her sigh was audible.

  ‘So like your dear father.’

  ‘Devil a bit, madam. He wouldn’t have put himself out to come here at all. He would have sent a servant to find out what it was you wanted.’

  Gloriana looked a trifle discomposed at this but she recovered quickly and gave him a wan smile.

  ‘In looks, my dear boy, in looks. And how is your poor, scarred soldier-brother?’

  The epithet grated on Jasper but he concealed it.

  ‘Dominic is prospering. And very happy with his growing family. Now, Gloriana, tell me why you have summoned me here.’

  The widow wrung her hands and uttered dramatically, ‘It is Gerald.’

  ‘I thought as much. What has the boy done?’

  This cool response drew a reproachful look from the widow.

  ‘So charming yet so implacable.’ She sighed. ‘No wonder you break so many hearts.’

  ‘Not intentionally, ma’am, I assure you.’ He took out his watch. ‘I am sorry to hurry you, Gloriana, but my curricle is waiting and I do not want to keep the horses standing too long in this cold weather. Tell me about Gerald.’

  ‘Your manners, Markham, leave a lot to be desired.’

  ‘But a moment ago you were telling me I was charming.’

  Mrs Barnabus struggled with herself. She would have liked to give the viscount a sharp set-down but she wanted his help, and she was very much afraid if she ordered him to apologise or be on his way, he would choose the latter option. The fact that he was well aware of her inner turmoil did nothing to improve her temper. She forgot her plaintive tone and spoke curtly.

  ‘He has formed a disastrous attachment.’

  Jasper’s black brows rose.

  ‘Really? That does not sound like Gerald. When I’ve met him in town I have always thought him a level-headed young buck.’

  Apart from a faint moue of distaste she ignored his description of her beloved son.

  ‘That is why I am so concerned. He came to see me before Christmas, extolling the virtues of this woman—a very paragon she sounded!—but I took little notice. He has always been a sensible boy and I thought his infatuation would soon burn itself out. Then one of my acquaintances wrote to tell me that this...this female holds regular card parties. I am told she won a considerable sum of money from Gerald. Two hundred guineas!’

  ‘A mere nothing. He could lose more than that in a sitting at White’s.’

  ‘Perhaps, but my acquaintance says all Bath was talking of it.’

  ‘Bath!’ Jasper laughed. ‘He has become enamoured of a lady from Bath? Is she an invalid or old enough to be his grandmama?’

  ‘It may not be quite as fashionable as it was, but there are still any number of people who like to visit there,’ replied Mrs Barnabus, affronted by his humour. ‘I should go there myself, if the waters here were not more beneficial for those like myself who are prone to consumptive symptoms.’

  ‘Well perhaps you should go there anyway, to find out just what Gerald is about.’

  ‘He will not listen to me. He is one-and-twenty now, and in charge of his own fortune. Besides, I could not possibly travel such a distance.’

  ‘It is barely fifteen miles, Cousin.’

  ‘And I would be so knocked up I should be in no fit state to help my poor son.’ She sank back on the sofa and waved her vinaigrette under her nose, weakened merely by the thought of such a journey. ‘No, Markham, as head of the family, it is up to you to rescue Gerald from the clutches of this—this harpy.’

  ‘My dear ma’am, we have no evidence that there is anything wrong with the woman at all, save that she has beaten Gerald at cards. And even that is not to be wondered at. If I remember rightly he was never that sharp.’

  Gloriana’s eyes snapped angrily.

  ‘You are too cruel, Markham. The boy is almost ten years your junior and lacks your worldly experience. And now, when I ask, nay, beg you to help him, you can do nothing but jest.’ She broke off, dragging a wisp of lace from her pocket and dabbing at her eyes.

  Jasper regarded her in exasperation as he saw his dinner at the Hare and Hounds slipping away. However, beneath his insouciant exterior he was quite fond of Gerald, so he gave in with a faint shrug.

  ‘Very well, ma’am, I can as easily stop at Bath tonight as at Corsham. I will seek out Gerald and find out just what is afoot.’

  Gently brushing aside her grateful effusions and the belated offer of a glass of ratafia, Jasper took his leave of Gloriana and headed for York House.

  * * *

  He arrived at the busy Bath hotel before five o’clock, in good time to bespeak rooms and dinner. Then, having changed his travel clothes for the coat and knee-breeches that were still the required evening dress for Bath, he sallied forth in search of Gerald Barnabus.

  * * *

  Susannah looked around the drawing room with satisfaction. It was filling up nicely and most of the little card tables were occupied.

  ‘Another good turn-out.’

  Susannah heard the murmur and found Kate Logan at her side. Kate was a widow and past her thirtieth year, although she looked younger and her stylish gown of bronze satin with its matching turban drew many a gentleman’s eye. Susannah knew Kate was well aware of her attraction and used it to advantage at the card table, although she never succumbed to any gentleman’s advances. She continued now in her habitual slow drawl, ‘There is a ball at the Lower Rooms tonight, so doubtless many will take themselves off there at ten and then we can get down to business.’

  Susannah shushed her with a look and said in a voice of mock severity, ‘There is no business here, Mrs Logan. We merely invite a few friends to enjoy a game of cards.’

  Kate gave a knowing smile.

  ‘That is what I meant, Susannah.’

  ‘Of course,’ added Susannah innocently, ‘some of our guests might lose
a few guineas at our tables, but that is hardly to be wondered at, after all.’ She glanced at her friend, trying to keep her countenance, but failed miserably, and her peal of laughter made several heads turn. ‘Oh dear, now I have made people stare. Go away, Kate, before I forget myself again. Look, my aunt is waving to you to make a fourth at whist.’

  ‘And she is sitting down with Mr and Mrs Anstruther, who spend so much time bickering that they invariably lose. Very well, I shall go, and I see old Major Crommelly is coming over, no doubt to engage you for a game of picquet, which is his pretext to get you to himself and subject you to the most fulsome compliments.’

  ‘He may positively shower me with compliments as long as he is happy to play for pound points,’ chuckled Susannah, turning to greet the elderly gentleman who was approaching her.

  * * *

  It was well over an hour later that she rose from the table, refusing the major’s suggestion that they should play another hand.

  ‘But, my dear Miss Prentess, the night is yet young.’

  ‘It is indeed, but I have other guests to attend, Major, and cannot let you monopolise me.’ She softened her words with a smile and went off to join her aunt, whom she found bubbling with excitement.

  ‘Susannah, I am so glad you are come, I was determined to interrupt your game if you had not finished when you did.’

  ‘My dear ma’am, what has occurred to put you into a spin?’

  ‘Mr Barnabus has arrived—’

  ‘Is that all? How did he look? I hope he is not too downhearted—’

  ‘No, that is, I did not notice.’ Aunt Maude flapped her hands in excitement. ‘Did you see the stranger he brought with him?’

  ‘No, I was paying picquet with the major and had my back to the door.’ Susannah looked around. ‘Has Mr Barnabus brought another gentleman, then? That is good of him, and shows he has not taken umbrage at my refusal.’

  ‘No, not a gentleman, Susannah. A viscount. There, I knew that would make you stare.’

  ‘It does indeed. We have had nothing more prestigious than a baron here before, although I suppose General Sanstead is pretty high...’

  Mrs Wilby tapped her niece’s arm with her closed fan.

  ‘Pray be serious, Susannah, his presence here adds distinction! You must let me make you known to him at once.’

  ‘By all means, Aunt. Lead on.’

  ‘No need, here he comes now,’ Mrs Wilby responded in a shrill whisper, and Susannah looked around to see two gentlemen approaching. The first, a stocky young man with an open, boyish countenance beneath a thatch of fair hair, was Gerald Barnabus, and after a brief smile of welcome she turned her attention to his companion. The contrast with Mr Barnabus was striking. Gerald looked neat—even smart—in his evening dress, but the viscount’s black coat bore all the hallmarks of a London tailor. It fitted perfectly across his shoulders and followed the tapering line of the body to his waist. Satin knee-breeches stretched over muscled thighs that hinted at the athlete, while the startling white of his quilted waistcoat and impeccable linen of his shirt and neckcloth proclaimed a level of sartorial elegance not often seen in Bath.

  The man himself was tall and lean, with hair as dark as midnight. The golden, flickering candlelight accentuated the strong lines of his handsome face. When she met his eyes a little tremor ran down her spine. She was used to seeing admiration in a man’s look, but the viscount’s gaze was coolly appraising.

  ‘Ah, there you are, Miss Prentess,’ Gerald greeted her cheerfully. ‘I have brought a friend with me; I made sure you would not object to it. Well, I say friend, but he is some sort of cousin, actually...’

  ‘Come, Gerald, you are taking far too long about this.’

  The viscount’s voice was low and pleasant, with just a hint of laughter. He turned to Susannah, the cool look in his eyes replaced by a glinting smile.

  ‘I am Markham.’ He gave a little bow. ‘How do you do?’

  ‘I am very well, my lord, thank you. And of course there can be no objection to your coming here with Mr Barnabus.’

  ‘Aye, I knew you would be pleased,’ said Gerald, grinning.

  Susannah barely heard Gerald’s words for the viscount had reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips.

  ‘Are you making a long stay in Bath, my lord?’ She struggled to ignore the fluttering inside, like the soft beating of birds’ wings against her ribcage. The pad of his thumb had rubbed gently over her knuckles before he gave up her hand and her skin still tingled with the memory.

  ‘I am on my way to town. I merely stopped off to look in on my cousin.’

  ‘Aye, which is why I persuaded him to take pot luck here with me tonight,’ added Gerald.

  ‘And we are delighted to have you join us.’ Mrs Wilby spread her fan and looked about her while Susannah stood mute at her side, trying to make sense of her reaction to this stranger. ‘What would you care to play, my lord? There is macao, or loo, or euchre...or if you care to wait a little I am sure we can set you up with a rubber of whist—’

  ‘You are too kind, ma’am, but if you have no objection I shall walk about a little.’ He bestowed such a charming smile upon Aunt Maude that Susannah was not at all surprised to see her simpering like a schoolroom miss. ‘I like to gauge the opposition before I commit myself to the game.’

  ‘You will find no deep play here, my lord,’ Susannah responded. ‘And no hardened gamesters.’

  ‘No?’ His brows lifted. ‘Not even yourself, Miss Prentess?’

  Again that flutter down her spine. She was close enough to see his eyes now. Blue-grey, and hard as slate.

  She shook her head. ‘I am no gamester, my lord.’

  ‘But she is good,’ said Gerald. ‘I’d wager she could match you, Cousin.’

  ‘Indeed? Perhaps we should put it to the test.’

  His voice was silky, but she heard the note of contempt in his tone. To her dismay she felt the blush rising to her cheeks. She could do nothing to hide it, so she put up her chin and replied to Gerald with a smile.

  ‘You are too kind, Mr Barnabus. I have no wish to pit myself against one who is no doubt a master.’

  She excused herself and walked away. As she passed the table where Mrs Logan was presiding at a noisy game of vingt-et-un, Kate stretched out her hand to detain her.

  ‘You seem to have netted a big fish there, Susannah,’ she murmured. ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Viscount Markham, Gerald’s cousin.’

  ‘Indeed? A very big fish then.’ Kate’s eyes flickered over the viscount, then came back to her friend. ‘He does not please you?’

  ‘He seems inclined to sneer at our little party.’ Susannah shrugged. ‘Let my aunt deal with him. If we are not to his taste I hope he will not stay long.’

  A shout recalled Kate’s attention to the game and Susannah moved on. She sat down with a large group who were playing loo and tried to give her attention to the cards, but all the time she was aware of the viscount’s tall figure wandering around the room. Then, suddenly, she could not see him and wondered if he had been persuaded to sit down at one of the other tables, or if he had taken his leave. The unease she had felt in his presence made her hope it was the latter.

  * * *

  As the evening wore on and the crowd in the room thinned, Susannah noticed the familiar, subtle change in the card party. The chatter and laughter died away as those who were left concentrated on their game. Two young gentlemen challenged her to take them on at ombre and she was busily engaged with them until the supper gong sounded at midnight.

  ‘Sacardo again, Miss Prentess,’ laughed one of the young men, throwing down his cards in mock disgust. ‘You are unbeatable tonight.’

  ‘Aye, she has won almost every trick,’ declared the other, watching as Susannah swept the small pile of coins from the table into her reticule. ‘I hope you will allow Warwick and me the chance to take our revenge later?’

  ‘More to the point, Farthing, I hope Miss Prentess will allow me
to escort her down to supper,’ added Mr Warwick, looking hopefully across at Susannah.

  ‘Nay, as to that, surely the honour should fall to me?’ said Mr Farthing. ‘I at least won codille, sir, so it can be said I bested you!’

  Susannah threw up her hands, laughing.

  ‘Gentlemen, pray, do not fight over such a trifle.’

  ‘Especially when the trick is already won,’ said a deep, amused voice. ‘I have come to escort you down to supper, Miss Prentess.’

  Susannah looked round to find Lord Markham standing behind her, his hand on the back of her chair.

  ‘Indeed, my lord?’ His self-assurance rattled her. ‘I rather think these gentlemen might oppose you.’

  A glance back showed Susannah that the two young men might have been prepared to fight each other for the pleasure of taking her to supper, but they were far too in awe of a viscount to raise an objection. She was disappointed when they scrambled to their feet, uttering disjointed phrases.

  ‘L-Lord Markham! N-no, no objections at all, my lord.’

  ‘Only too happy...’

  ‘There, you see? No opposition at all.’ The humour glinting in Lord Markham’s eyes did nothing to appease Susannah, but it would not do to show her displeasure, so with a smile of acquiescence she took his hand and allowed him to lead her off. As they moved through the room she looked around her.

  ‘Ah, my aunt is setting up another game of loo. Perhaps she would like me to help her—’

  ‘No, it was she who suggested I should take you downstairs.’ When Susannah hesitated he added, ‘You can see, Miss Prentess, that everyone is perfectly content. You may take a little time now to enjoy yourself. These parties are designed to be enjoyed. After all, it is not as if you are running a gaming hell here.’

  She looked at him sharply, but could read nothing from his smile. His manners were perfectly polite, but she had the distinct feeling he was on his guard, that he was assessing her. Susannah gave an inward shrug. What did it matter? He was not staying in Bath.