Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘No.’ Susannah turned to her, taking her hands and giving them a little shake. ‘Kate, you are funning. You must be. Your last husband was a monster, you told me he— That no man was worth the risk...’

  Kate blushed and shook her head.

  ‘I was wrong,’ she said simply. ‘When I met Charles I knew I was wrong.’ She looked up suddenly. ‘But you are a fine one to be admonishing me for my change of heart! I hear you are engaged, now, to Gerald Barnabus.’

  ‘Yes, yes, but that is different,’ argued Susannah. ‘I will not be diverted, Kate. How can you be engaged to Mr Camerton? You have known him for only a few short weeks.’

  ‘I know, but I love him, Susannah.’ The smile and the soft look that transfigured the widow’s face made Susannah’s heart sink. ‘He is a gambler, like me. We fell in love at the card table, then he came to call and took me riding, and we went walking in Sydney Gardens, and...’ Kate looked up, her eyes shining. ‘He has turned my whole world upside down, Susannah. He sends my spirits soaring heavenwards just by holding my hand. His smile lights up my day. And he feels the same way about me. I can hardly believe my good fortune. He loves me, he really does. So we are to be married, just as soon as the banns have been called.’

  A cold, dark cloud wrapped itself around Susannah’s heart as she listened to her friend. She thought of Gerald Barnabus, her own fiancé. She imagined him holding her hand, smiling at her and she felt nothing. Nothing at all.

  * * *

  Mrs Wilby was as good as her word and cancelled all their engagements for the whole week, with the exception of Lady Gisburne’s party at Laura Place. Susannah was adamant that they must attend, but she was uncharacteristically nervous as she allowed Dorcas to dress her in her cream satin with the green ribbon ties.

  ‘Stop fidgeting, miss, do,’ Dorcas admonished her as she nestled tiny cream rosebuds amongst the golden curls piled up on her head. ‘I’ve never known you in such a fret before a party.’

  ‘Tonight’s soirée means Florence House is no longer a secret, Dorcas,’ Susannah told her. ‘I am very anxious that it should be a success.’

  But to herself she acknowledged that this was not the reason for her unease. Since her engagement to Gerald she had avoided Jasper’s company, but tonight there could be no escape. She would have to face him.

  * * *

  ‘Well this is most satisfactory,’ murmured Aunt Maude, looking around the crowded reception rooms in Laura Place, ‘I believe all of Bath is here tonight.’

  Susannah could only nod in agreement. Lady Gisburne had specifically noted on her invitations that the evening was to acknowledge her patronage of Florence House, a home for distressed gentlewomen, but only one or two people had stayed away. Everyone else was keen to congratulate the dowager upon her support of such a cause. Even Mrs Bulstrode was present, as well as Mr and Mrs Farthing, a generous donation from Lady Gisburne to the Walcot Street Penitentiary helping them to bury their resentment.

  ‘A very different reaction to the one I received,’ murmured Susannah.

  ‘Unmarried ladies are expected to be more circumspect,’ came her aunt’s comfortable response. ‘When you are Mrs Barnabus no one will think anything of you supporting such a cause. What a pity Gerald could not be here tonight.’

  Susannah thought so, too, especially when Jasper appeared. Her heart began to hammer uncomfortably when she saw him walk in, his gleaming black hair brushed back from that handsome face. He bowed over the dowager’s hand, and as he straightened his dark eyes raked the room. It was as if some second sense brought his gaze straight to her.

  She squared her shoulders. It would be better to get this first meeting over, then they could be easy. Her confidence began to wane as he made his way towards her. He stopped to speak to others on his way, his easy manners and charming smile much in evidence, but when at last he stood before her there was a fierce, uncompromising look in his eye that made her want to run away. Instead she forced her knees to bend a little. She kept her hands firmly clasped about her fan.

  ‘Lord Markham.’

  ‘Miss Prentess.’

  Aunt Maude was addressing the viscount, nervousness making her garrulous, but Susannah did not hear her and she suspected Jasper too was not attending. He was holding her eyes.

  ‘I believe you have been indisposed, ma’am.’

  ‘I, er, I have been resting, but I could not miss this evening.’

  ‘I guessed as much, which is why I came.’ He lowered his voice. ‘You cannot avoid me for ever, you know.’

  A sudden constriction in her throat made it difficult for Susannah to swallow. She kept her eyes on her fan, studying the intricate pattern on the sticks.

  ‘I have no idea what...’ Her voice tailed away when she looked up and met his hard eyes again.

  Someone had claimed Mrs Wilby’s attention. For the moment no one was attending to them and Jasper made the most of the opportunity.

  ‘We will talk, alone.’

  ‘No, I cannot. I—’

  ‘You can and will.’ He leaned closer. ‘There is a small sitting room downstairs. The door to the left of the hall table. I will meet you there at midnight.’

  ‘No.’ She cast about wildly for an excuse. ‘That is...’

  In the press of the crowd no one saw him grip her arm.

  ‘Midnight,’ he said again. ‘Be there, madam. You owe me that much.’

  * * *

  Jasper moved away and Susannah was free to circulate, to talk, but even while she conversed and smiled her mind was racing. He was angry with her and she could not blame him. She tried to tell herself he could not touch her now, she was engaged to Gerald, but somehow that thought did not reassure her as it should. She took a glass of wine to steady her nerves and tried to interest herself in the proceedings. She knew most of the people present, even the various single gentlemen who attended her card parties had turned out in force. At one point she found herself face to face with Mr Warwick. He looked confused for a moment, she thought he might speak to her, but after acknowledging her with a tiny nod of his head he hurried away. She wondered why. If it was true that he was the father of Violet Anstruther’s child then he should be grateful to her. Florence House would take on the responsibility that he had shirked. Hunching one white shoulder, she turned away. Her eyes strayed to the clock on the mantelpiece. Eleven o’clock. Another hour and she would have to join Jasper in that downstairs room. Alone.

  You do not have to go, a little voice in her head whispered seductively. Think of the scandal. You are promised to another man. You should not go.

  But she would go, if only because she knew that Jasper would come after her if she did not. The minutes ticked by with agonising slowness. Lady Gisburne carried her away to introduce her to Lady this, and Lord that, but she could concentrate on nothing, only the hands of the clock steadily moving towards twelve.

  * * *

  The noise from the reception rooms died away behind her as Susannah slipped down the stairs. The hall was deserted save for a porter dozing in his chair by the front door. She could see the hall table, flanked by two identical doors. Pausing only to collect herself, she moved to the one on the left.

  Susannah closed the door quietly behind her and looked around. At first she thought the room was empty. A small fire and the single-branched candlestick provided only enough light to show her the empty satin-covered sofa and armchairs. Then a shadow moved by the window and she saw Jasper.

  ‘I cannot stay long, my lord. I shall be missed.’

  ‘Tell me why you are marrying Barnabus.’

  She moved towards the fire, holding her hands out to the glow, more for distraction than any need of warmth.

  ‘Is it not obvious?’

  ‘Not to me.’

  She ran her tongue across her lips. They were dry, a sign of her nervousness.

  ‘He...he has courted me for months.’

  ‘But you knew I was going to offer for you. Why did you not tell me then
?’

  ‘I did not think you were serious.’

  ‘After what happened on the balcony of the tea room?’ He gave a savage laugh. ‘How passionate does a man have to be, madam, before you consider him serious?’

  She did not move, keeping her attention on the hearth. She heard his hasty stride behind her.

  ‘How passionate was Barnabus, when you accepted him?’

  Her head came up at that.

  ‘Gerald is a gentleman—’

  ‘You mean he has not touched you.’

  She fluttered her fan.

  ‘He does not need to. We—’

  ‘You have promised yourself to a man for whom you feel nothing.’

  ‘That is not true!’

  ‘Is it not?’ He grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. ‘Does the blood pulse through your veins when he touches you? Does Barnabus drive you to the brink of madness with desire?’

  She shrugged him off.

  ‘I do not want that.’ Her cheeks were burning and she fanned herself rapidly.

  ‘Did you accept him to escape from me?’ When she did not reply he continued, ‘So that’s it. You are afraid of what is between us—’

  ‘There is nothing between us!’

  He took the fan from her and threw it down on the chair. Before she could protest he pulled her into his arms and kissed her savagely. Immediately her body sprang to life. The blood not only pulsed, it positively sang in her veins. She knew she must not give in. She put her hands on his chest, resisting the impulse to cling to his coat.

  ‘Tell me you feel nothing for me.’ His breath was hot on her neck as he covered her skin with kisses, each one burning even further through the defences she had erected. ‘Tell me you do not want to lie here with me now and let me make love to you.’

  With a superhuman effort she pushed herself away from him.

  ‘That is desire, my lord, but it is not love.’

  He towered over her, his face in shadow and his shoulders rising and falling with each ragged breath.

  ‘If it is love to know I cannot live without you, that every day we are apart is a day in hell then, yes, Susannah, I love you.’

  Lies, said the voice in her head. He is a seducer. He will say anything to bend you to his will.

  She backed away, the pain of the separation tearing at her skin.

  ‘Well, I do not love you.’

  The words fell like lead weights into the silence between them.

  ‘Do you love Gerald?’

  She hesitated.

  ‘We have mutual affection and respect. Love will follow.’

  ‘Are you sure, Susannah?’ He was closing in again, and once more desire and panic warred within her. ‘Are you sure it won’t be boredom that will follow? Dull complacency?’

  She gave a sob.

  ‘You do not understand. I am safe with Gerald. I can live my life in comfort, I will not be forever wondering if he is faithful to me, I will not risk...’ she turned away, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears as she forced out the final words ‘...breaking my heart.’

  Silence. Susannah could hear only the ticking of the clock. Surreptitiously she wiped away a rogue tear.

  ‘Ah.’ He uttered the word like a sigh. ‘I would offer you my hand, my heart, my life, Susannah, but there is an element of risk in all things. This passion we feel for one another may burn out, though I do not believe it. You would have to trust me on that, but you have never trusted any man, have you?’

  ‘Men in the grip of passion are unreliable,’ she muttered. ‘Even my own father, though he swore he loved my mother and came crawling back, begging for forgiveness on more than one occasion.’

  ‘I cannot argue against that,’ he said quietly. ‘I know some men are feckless creatures, but not all of us. However, if you would rather have Barnabus—

  ‘He loves me!’

  ‘Then let us hope that is enough for both of you, and that I have been mistaken in my own feelings.’ He walked to the door. ‘Goodbye, Susannah. I will not trouble you again.’

  He went out, the door closing behind him. The emptiness and silence pressed in on her. Susannah felt then that she had lost something in her life. As though some prop, something necessary to her comfort, had been taken away.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jasper did not go back upstairs. He was in no mood for company so he let himself out of the house and walked back to his hotel. He was promised to escort the dowager to the Abbey in the morning, but after that he would quit Bath. He had spent far too long here already and there was work on his estates that needed his attention. That should help to keep his mind from dwelling on Susannah Prentess. He should be glad to be leaving her behind. He had found her a patroness for Florence House, he had even endured an uncomfortable night in a chair there, to say nothing of slaving away in the kitchen to feed everyone, and for what? She was not even grateful. He shook his head and swung his cane at a clump of weeds pushing up at the roadside. He did not want her gratitude, he wanted to protect her, to make her comfortable—to make her happy. And if that meant he had to disappear from her life then so be it.

  * * *

  Susannah and her aunt did not attend the Abbey service the following morning. Jasper sat beside Lady Gisburne during the long sermon, impatiently waiting for the service to end so that he could get back to his rooms, where Peters was packing up everything in readiness for an early start in the morning. It was not until he was helping Lady Gisburne back into her carriage that Jasper told her he was leaving, hoping to fend off any questions by adding that he had business at Markham.

  ‘No doubt it can wait a few more days.’

  ‘I regret it cannot. My stay in Bath has been far longer than intended.’

  ‘Because of Susannah Prentess.’

  Her shrewd gaze was on his face but he kept his countenance impassive as he took his seat beside her.

  ‘She was a distraction, I admit.’

  ‘Hmm. I wondered how you would take it when you learned that she was to marry. What happened last night?’

  He raised his brows.

  ‘Last night, ma’am?’

  The slight note of hauteur in his tone had no effect on the dowager.

  ‘It was obvious to me that the two of you have been playing cat and mouse. Then you both disappeared last night. What did she say to you?’

  He decided not to deny it. The old lady was too astute to be fobbed off.

  ‘She intends to marry Barnabus.’ He added bitterly, ‘She feels safe with him. Safe! What she means is she thinks she can keep him under her thumb, poor devil!’

  ‘Yes, I thought as much.’

  He shifted his eyes to her face.

  ‘You knew she was engaged to Barnabus, didn’t you? You knew it that night, at the ball, before I went off to Markham. For pity’s sake, why did you not tell me?’

  ‘Would it have made any difference?’

  ‘Yes! I might have reasoned with her—’

  ‘As you did last night? When Susannah came back upstairs she looked positively distraught.’

  A dull flush crept into his cheek.

  ‘She inflames me,’ he admitted. ‘I find myself attracted to her like no other, and she feels the same, though she will not admit it. That is why I am going home in the morning. There is nothing here for me now.’

  ‘Much as it pains me to contradict you, Markham,’ replied the dowager untruthfully, ‘you are not leaving Bath tomorrow. Dominic and his family are on their way, and he will expect you to be here to meet him.’

  ‘I don’t believe it!’

  Ignoring his exclamation, the dowager continued impassively, ‘I had an express from my godson this morning, telling me they will be arriving tomorrow.’

  Jasper found a similar note waiting for him when he returned to York House. Peters received the change of plan with unimpaired calm, merely enquiring if he should instruct the hotel to prepare rooms in readiness for their arrival.


  ‘No need. The dowager has invited them to stay with her at Laura Place.’ He crumpled the note in his fist. ‘It means we will not be returning to Markham tomorrow after all. I must at least stay to welcome them.’

  * * *

  ‘So tell me all about your engagement to Mr Barnabus.’

  Susannah was strolling through Sydney Gardens with Kate, and was half-expecting the question. She had managed to avoid the subject since Kate’s return to Bath, but had known that at some point she would have to explain.

  ‘Oh well, he has been very persistent, you know, and he is such a sweet boy.’

  ‘I thought you had turned your face against marriage.’

  ‘No more than you, Kate,’ she countered. ‘I have heard you say many times that nothing would persuade you to take another husband.’

  ‘I know.’ Kate looked down, and Susannah saw the tell-tale blush mantle her cheeks. She could not remember Kate ever being out of countenance before Charles Camerton appeared, but recently she had changed, become much...softer, somehow. Now she gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘I thought myself too old, too embittered to risk marrying again, but meeting Charles has changed my mind.’ She glanced up. ‘I am afraid he rather swept me off my feet, so much so that I confided in him about Florence House.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Yes, and I am very sorry for it. It is entirely my fault that your secret is known. You know how it is when you meet someone and you just want to talk and talk for ever? I am afraid I was not very discreet, and since I did not impress upon Charles that it was a secret he spoke of it in the Pump Room and—well, it went on from there. I suspected as much when we were so thin of company at your card party, and when I asked Charles he said he had mentioned it to Mrs Bulstrode, although thankfully he said nothing about the connection with Odesse. I know I should have told you immediately, but I did not want you to be cross with Charles. I hoped it might soon be forgotten. I beg your pardon, Susannah. Can you ever forgive me?’

  So Jasper had not betrayed her. A dozen disjointed thoughts raced through her brain. If she had not been so quick to condemn him they might still be friends—more than friends. No. He roused in her such uncontrollable passions that friendship was not possible. She was engaged to Gerald now. Safe, dependable Gerald. That was what she wanted. She summoned up a smile.