Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager

by Sarah Mallory

  She accompanied him to the supper room, where a selection of cold meats, fruits and sweets was laid out on the table. Susannah chose sparingly from the selection before her, but she was surprised when her escort showed no interest in the food.

  ‘I am sorry I cannot offer you soup or ramekins, Lord Markham. Our guests make do with a cold collation, even in winter, although there is warm wine for anyone who wishes it.’

  ‘I require nothing, thank you.’

  They found an empty table and sat down. Susannah took a little minced chicken, but found she had no appetite with the viscount sitting opposite her.

  ‘You work very hard at your...entertainments, Miss Prentess.’

  ‘I help my aunt as best I can, sir.’

  ‘And how often do you hold these little parties?’

  ‘Every Tuesday.’

  ‘Indeed? You must be prodigious fond of cards, ma’am.’

  ‘My aunt enjoys them, yes.’

  ‘I stand corrected.’

  She looked up at him, understanding dawning.

  ‘Ah, I see what it is,’ she said, smiling. ‘You are concerned for your cousin.’

  ‘Should I not be?’

  ‘Mr Barnabus will come to no harm here.’

  ‘But you have already taken two hundred guineas from him in one night.’

  She stared at him. ‘How do you know that? Did Mr Barnabus tell you?’

  ‘He did not need to. Such deep play excites comment.’

  ‘Deep play?’ She laughed. ‘I am sure in your London club such a sum would be considered insignificant.’

  He leaned forwards.

  ‘But we are not in my London club, Miss Prentess.’

  The unease she had been feeling all evening intensified. She put down her fork.

  ‘It was unfortunate. I have not allowed it to happen again.’ She met his eyes, returning his gaze steadily. ‘I am not trying to entrap your cousin.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘Of course not.’ She hesitated. ‘You may not know it, but he made me an offer of marriage and I refused him. Does that not tell you I have no designs upon him?’

  ‘Perhaps you are hoping to catch a bigger prize.’

  Some of the tension eased and she laughed at the absurdity of his claim.

  ‘My lord, you have seen the guests my aunt invites. Couples, mainly, like General Sanstead and his wife, intent upon an evening’s sport. And as for the single gentlemen, they are either too old to be looking for a wife or they have yet to make their way in the world.’

  ‘And such men are very susceptible to the, ah, blandishments of a pretty woman.’

  Susannah’s brows snapped together.

  ‘I find the implication insulting, sir.’ She pushed her plate away. ‘I must go back upstairs.’

  ‘As you wish.’

  What she wished was to order him from the house, but she could hardly eject a viscount from her aunt’s card party without good reason, and it would not do to stir up gossip. Instead she contented herself with returning to the drawing room and quitting his company with no more than a nod of her head.

  * * *

  A rubber of whist with Kate as her partner did much to restore her spirits and later she took her turn at playing vingt-et-un, drawing a crowd of gentlemen, as usual. She concentrated hard on the game. This was her aunt’s party, after all, so it was not for her to keep an eye on who was leaving. However, the game was over and the players dispersing when Gerald approached her, so she could not avoid him.

  ‘Are you leaving us, Mr Barnabus?’ She put aside her cards and rose to meet him.

  ‘Aye, my cousin has invited me to take my brandy with him tonight, if you will give me leave?’

  From the corner of her eye Susannah saw Lord Markham standing a little way behind his cousin. It would have given her great pleasure to tell Gerald that she would not release him. He would stay, she was sure of it from his look and the warm note in his voice. But that might raise his hopes that she felt something stronger for him than friendship, and she would not serve him such a trick. Instead she contented herself with giving him her warmest smile as he bowed over her fingers, and a murmur—loud enough for the viscount to hear—that she hoped to see him again very soon.

  * * *

  ‘I saw the viscount take you off to supper.’ Mrs Logan came up as Susannah watched the two men leave the room. ‘Another conquest, do you think?’

  ‘Hardly.’ She chuckled. ‘The viscount is more inclined to think me a gold-digger. I have no doubt that he will warn his cousin off.’

  ‘Pity. He would have been a rich pigeon for the

  plucking.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t use such cant terms, Kate.’

  ‘I am a soldier’s widow, love. I know a lot worse than that.’

  ‘I am sure you do, and I am pleased you have left that life behind.’

  ‘Aye, and with it the need for a husband.’

  ‘Come, Kate. You are still young, and I have seen how the men flock to you—are you sure you do not wish to marry again?’

  ‘Put myself in the power of one man, when as a widow I can flirt and enjoy myself with anyone I wish?’ Kate shook her head. ‘Never. Never again. You know as well as I what monsters men can be, if one allows them dominance.’

  Susannah shivered.

  ‘Let us not think of that, Kate. It is all in the past.’ She gave her friend a quick hug. ‘Now, let us see what we can do to hurry these few remaining guests on their way. I need to get to bed since I have to be up early in the morning.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Odesse sent me a note. We have another client.’

  Kate’s eyes widened. ‘Word is spreading,’ she murmured.

  Susannah nodded. ‘As we knew it would. I shall drive out tomorrow to make sure she is settled in.’

  ‘That is not necessary,’ said Kate. ‘Mrs Gifford—’

  ‘Is a dear soul, but I like to talk to each of our—er—clients myself, it reassures them.’ She laughed. ‘Pray do not look so disapproving, Kate. This was as much your idea as mine.’

  ‘I know, but it was never my intention that you should be so personally involved.’

  Susannah’s laughter deserted her.

  ‘Why not? It is my reason for living, Kate.’

  * * *

  The walk back to George Street was not a long one, but the icy blast that hit them as they stepped out on to the Crescent prompted Gerald to ask Jasper if they would not be better to go back indoors and send a servant for a cab.

  ‘By no means,’ he replied. ‘The fresh air will do us good. Unless you mean to imply I am too old for such a journey...’

  Gerald laughed.

  ‘I would not dare. Let us walk, by all means.’ He tucked his hand into Jasper’s arm as they set off at a good pace towards the Circus. ‘Tell me what you thought of Susannah.’

  ‘Miss Prentess? At first glance, a beauty.’

  ‘She is beautiful, isn’t she? A golden goddess! But it is not just her looks, Jasper, it is her spirit, too. She is so good, so charitable.’

  ‘Not so charitable that she won’t take your money at the card table.’

  ‘No, no, a mere trifle. She will not countenance anyone losing more than fifty guineas at a sitting.’

  ‘That is not what I have heard.’

  ‘Ah.’ Gerald gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘You said you had called upon my mother. I suppose she told you I had lost more, and asked you to come and rescue me.’

  ‘Not in so many words.’

  Gerald swore under his breath.

  ‘Damn the Bath tabbies that report my every move! That was a single occurrence, and entirely my own doing. Susannah did not wish to take my money, I assure you—I had to almost beg her to do so. And I had thought hard beforehand. It was money I could afford to lose.’

  ‘That is what all gamesters will tell you.’

  Gerald stopped and pulled away.

  ‘I am no gambler, Jasper. If I was I would be sporting my blunt in
some hell, rather than in Mrs Wilby’s drawing room!’

  The flare of a nearby street lamp showed the boy’s face to be serious. Jasper put a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘No, I had not thought it of you, until now. I take it that Miss Prentess is the attraction, rather than the cards?’

  ‘Of course. You must have noticed how many young bucks were there tonight.’

  ‘And old roués,’ added Jasper.

  ‘It is all the rage to be in love with her.’ Gerald began to walk on, his good humour quite restored. ‘She is beautiful, and an heiress.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  ‘Aye. She is old Middlemass’s heir, don’t you know.’

  ‘What, the nabob?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Well, that explains the house in Royal Crescent.’

  ‘Aye, the old man bought it when he returned from India, but rarely used it. Susannah was his only relative. She was living with him at his place in Westbury when he died, and he left everything to her in trust until she is five-and-twenty.’

  ‘Then I am no longer surprised all Bath is at her feet. Yet why should Gloriana call it a disastrous attachment?’

  ‘Not everyone in Bath is enamoured of Miss Prentess.’

  ‘I would have thought her fortune would make her universally admired.’

  ‘Yes, well, Bath is not London, Jasper. Respectability is everything here, don’t you know. And there are some high sticklers in Bath, including those who write to my mother. And Miss Prentess does not go out of her way to flatter them.’

  ‘So what do they have against the lady?’

  ‘For one thing they do not approve of her setting herself up in Royal Crescent with her aunt—if the truth were told I suspect they are jealous that she can afford to do so. Then there is her birth. Her father was a soldier and her mother an officer’s daughter. Perfectly respectable,’ he added quickly. ‘I ascertained as much before I—’

  ‘Yes?’ Jasper prompted him.

  ‘I offered her my hand.’

  There was no mistaking the rather belligerent note in Gerald’s voice. He clearly expected Jasper to be outraged. Instead Jasper said merely, ‘I am glad you had so much presence of mind. When one is...head over heels, one is inclined to forget such things.’

  Gerald relaxed again and aimed a playful punch at his ribs.

  ‘Well, I didn’t! I am not such a looby.’ He sighed. ‘I made sure the fortune would reconcile Mama to her, and I am sure it would have done, if Susannah had accepted me.’

  ‘Does that matter now? Since the lady has refused you...’

  ‘I hope she will be persuaded to change her mind.’ They had reached George Street and the entrance to York House. Jasper stood back for Gerald to precede him but the young man turned to him, saying earnestly, ‘You have met her, Jasper. You could speak to Mama for me. Susannah—Miss Prentess—is infinitely superior to every other woman I have ever met, you must see that.’

  ‘Ah...’ Jasper gave him a rueful smile ‘...but I have met rather more women than you, Cousin. Now, shall we go in out of the cold?’

  * * *

  Gerald took his leave a couple of hours later, but instead of retiring immediately, Jasper poured himself another brandy and settled himself into the chair beside the fire. He had done his duty by his cousin and warned him against proposing marriage again without careful thought, but Gerald had merely laughed at his concerns and asked him what fault he could find with Susannah Prentess. And indeed, Jasper could not find any, but something nagged at him.

  He had spent the evening in Royal Crescent, watching and listening. The card party appeared to be quite innocuous and everyone enjoyed themselves, especially the numerous gentlemen who vied with each other for the opportunity to play cards with Miss Prentess, but he would be surprised if many of them left the house richer than they entered it. Both his hostess and her niece were excellent card players. He had observed them closely during the evening—their assessment of their opponents’ hands was shrewd and the play was as clever as anything he had seen in town. Then there was the widow, Mrs Logan. She appeared to be very thick with Miss Prentess, and when the two ladies sat down together at the whist table they were unbeatable.

  Jasper frowned, cupping his brandy glass between his hands. He had seen no evidence of sharp practice, and he noted that Miss Prentess kept the stakes deliberately low and gently turned away any gentleman who was losing too much. She was very clever, winning small amounts, not enough to cause the loser distress, or to arouse suspicion. And as Gerald said, they were safer playing there than in some gambling hell. But there were at least a dozen gentlemen present, and fifty guineas from each....

  ‘Hell and confound it, she is an heiress,’ he muttered. ‘She cannot want the money!’

  Perhaps they needed the extra funds for their lifestyle. But there had been nothing too lavish about the supper provided for the guests and Miss Prentess’s gown of figured muslin showed quality rather than ostentation.

  He finished his brandy in one gulp and set down the glass. He had fulfilled his promise. He could write to Gloriana and tell her that Miss Prentess was no harpy, but something still rankled. Gerald had laughed off his words of caution and was obviously too infatuated with the lady to make a rational judgement, so it behooved his older and more worldly-wise cousin to do it for him.

  He would remain in Bath.

  Chapter Three

  ‘My dear, are you sure you want to go to the ball tonight? You are almost asleep there.’

  Susannah looked up with a start. She and her aunt were sitting in the morning room, where the welcome heat from the fire had made her quite drowsy.

  ‘Of course, ma’am. I shall be very well, once I have had dinner.’ Susannah brushed aside her aunt’s concerns with a smile.

  ‘But you have been sitting there this past half-hour without saying a word.’

  ‘Then I beg your pardon, I am a little tired after my travelling today.’

  ‘You were gone for so long I was beginning to worry.’

  ‘There was no need, Aunt. You know I had Dorcas with me.’

  ‘But I do worry, my love. I can never be easy when you are...visiting. One never knows what you might pick up.’

  Susannah smiled. ‘My dear aunt, I assure you there is no danger of contamination.’

  ‘Not of the body, perhaps, but—’

  ‘Please, Aunt, you know we have discussed this often and often. There is no danger at all in what I do, so let us not pursue it.’ She looked across as the door opened. ‘Ah, here is Gatley to tell us dinner is ready. Shall we go down?’

  * * *

  Susannah did her best to entertain her aunt at dinner and to hide all signs of fatigue, but she had to admit to herself that she was tired. It had been three o’clock before the last of the guests had left and she could fall into bed that morning. She should not complain, for it proved how successful their little card parties had become. But she had been up and out of the house before ten o’clock, not returning to the Crescent until late in the afternoon. Her aunt would argue that there was no need for her to go out, that she could entrust such errands to a servant, but Susannah’s independent spirit baulked at that. She had set herself a task and she would see it through. And that included going to the ball tonight.

  * * *

  The Upper Rooms were already crowded when Susannah and her aunt arrived. Their chairmen weaved through the press of carriages and deposited them under the entrance portico, where the music from the ballroom could be faintly heard. It was ten o’clock, the hour when the fashionable would leave their private parties and proceed to the ball, so the entrance was buzzing with activity. There were many acquaintances to be greeted once the ladies had removed their cloaks and straightened their shawls.

  Susannah waved to Mrs Logan, who had just arrived, then turned back to greet a turbaned matron who sailed up to her with two marriageable daughters in her wake.

  ‘Oh, Miss Prentess—another new gown
? You are always so beautifully turned out.’ The matron sighed ecstatically as she regarded Susannah’s flowered muslin. ‘So fine, my dear. And the lace edging, quite, quite exquisite. Is it Brussels?’

  Susannah smiled and shook her head. ‘No, ma’am, it is made locally, and it is exclusive to Odesse, the new modiste in Henrietta Street.’

  ‘Indeed? I thought you had ordered it from London, so fine as it is.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Bulstrode. I find Odesse excellent. And she has excelled herself; I did not expect to have this gown for another week at least.’

  The matron’s eyes brightened. ‘And in Henrietta Street, you say?’

  ‘Yes, her prices are very reasonable.’ Susanna dropped her voice a little. ‘Especially when one considers what one has to pay for gowns in Milsom Street. Not that one objects to the price, of course, but Odesse does seem to have a certain style...’

  ‘Indeed she does, Miss Prentess. That gown is quite superb. Well, well, I shall look her up.’ With a smile Mrs Bulstrode gathered her daughters and went off, leaving Susannah to smile after her.

  ‘Excellent,’ murmured Kate, coming up. ‘That could not have been better timed. Amelia Bulstrode is such a gabble-monger that our new modiste’s name will be on every woman’s lips by the end of the evening.’

  ‘And her gowns will be on a good many ladies’ backs by the end of the month,’ added Susannah. ‘I have achieved what I wanted to do without even entering the ballroom.’ She noted the startled look in Mrs Wilby’s eye and shook her head, laughing. ‘You need not fear, Aunt, I do not intend to go home yet. I hope to drum up even more business for the new modiste before the evening is out.’

  ‘Don’t!’ hissed Mrs Wilby in an urgent whisper. ‘Pray, Susannah, do not mention the word business. It is not at all becoming.’

  ‘Quite right,’ agreed Kate, her lips twitching. ‘Susannah is a lady and should know nothing about such matters. She is here merely to look beautiful and to stir up such envy that the other ladies will all want to know where she buys her gowns.’

  ‘Kate!’

  Susannah’s protest evoked nothing more than a shake of the head from her friend.

  ‘It is true, Susannah, and you know it. And I like the new way you have put up your hair,’ she added. ‘Quite in the classical style. What is it Mr Barnabus christened you? The golden goddess. Well tonight you could as well be called a Greek goddess.’