Regency Wagers

by Diane Gaston

  When morning came, Madeleine carefully manoeuvred herself out of the bed so as not to disturb Devlin. She found her nightdress in a heap on the floor and, as she donned it, gazed at the sleeping man. His handsome face was relaxed and peaceful, as it had not been since that fateful meeting with her mother and sister. At this moment he looked so much like Linette no one would doubt his paternity. She no longer doubted it, but accepted it as another of the painful paradoxes of her life. Like loving him and, therefore, having to lose him.

  The foreboding sense that their idyllic interlude would soon speed to its end had lingered with her since the bookshop, and, thus, this day seemed grave indeed.

  The feeling did not leave her when she busied herself preparing Linette’s breakfast, accompanied by the child’s irrepressible chatter. It was unusual for her to rise before Bart and Sophie, but perhaps the newly married couple were beginning their day in a happier mood than she.

  Madeleine cooked coddled eggs and toast. When first Devlin brought them here, she could do nothing so useful; now she had learned so many skills. She could cook simple meals, scrub a floor, dust furniture and do simple sewing. She knew how to shop and how to bargain with shopkeepers. There was no doubting it. She was prepared to leave.

  Bart came into the room, his face pinched with worry.

  ‘What is it, Bart?’

  ‘Sophie is feeling very poorly.’ His voice was stressed.

  ‘Shall I go to her?’ Madeleine wiped her hands.

  Bart nodded, giving her an agonised look.

  Bart’s room was spare but as orderly as Devlin’s was disordered. Sophie lay on the bed, each breath coming with effort. Her face was nearly as pale as the linens she lay upon and dark circles showed under her eyes. She woke as Madeleine came to her side and gave a wan smile.

  ‘We shall get the doctor for you, I think,’ Madeleine said.

  ‘Oh, no,’ rasped Sophie, her voice thin and weak. ‘There is no need. I shall be all right directly.’

  ‘Indeed, you shall.’ Madeleine patted her reassuringly. ‘I will bring you some tea. Would you like that?’

  Her waiflike friend nodded and wearily closed her eyes.

  Madeleine returned to Bart in haste. ‘Fetch the doctor. I cannot like the way she breathes.’

  Bart immediately grabbed his coat and hat, hanging on a hook by the back door. ‘I thought so, as well. I will get the man right now.’ He let the door slam behind him as he rushed out.

  Not long after, Devlin came into the kitchen.

  ‘Deddy!’ Linette squealed, scattering her wooden horses with a clatter as she bounded into his arms.

  Her heart lurching as it always did at such tender scenes, Madeleine asked, ‘May I prepare you some food, Devlin?’

  He gave Linette a hug and a kiss and set her back on the floor. She happily returned to the corner where her horses lay. ‘No, I must be off…a…a piece of business that must not be delayed.’

  Madeleine faced him. She’d been about to tell him of Sophie, but changed her mind. No need to add to the stress evident in his countenance.

  ‘Very well,’ she said, trying to keep her voice even.

  His mouth was set in a firm determined line. He held her gaze for a moment before he turned on his heel and left.

  Madeleine squeezed her eyes shut and took long steadying breaths. Linette banged her horses on the wooden floor, saying, ‘Gallump. Gallump,’ as they galloped around her. Before Madeleine allowed herself further thoughts of Devlin, she hurried to check on Sophie.

  His first piece of business complete, Devlin proceeded to Mayfair, knowing the hour was early for calls, but he had no wish to postpone this meeting. Best to dispense with it.

  The Duprey butler ushered him into the parlour. Devlin paced the room where he’d spent several exceedingly boring afternoons.

  The door opened and Emily Duprey crept in, glancing furtively behind her.

  ‘Lord Devlin.’ She cast him an anxious glance and shut the door.

  ‘Miss Duprey, forgive the early hour. I wished to speak with your father.’

  ‘As I understand. But if I could have a moment…’ She regarded him with a worried expression.

  He had no idea how to act with her. Since learning she was Madeleine’s sister, dealing with her seemed an impossibility.

  Suddenly he realised what had attracted him to her. The tilt of her head, the gesture of her hand, the shape of her brow and chin were Madeleine’s. It was his attachment to Madeleine that led him to this woman, who at present was wringing her hands and regarding him anxiously.

  He had wronged Emily Duprey. Led her to expect from him an offer now repugnant to him. According to her brother, the family considered it a settled matter, and it was for this sole reason he had returned to this house.

  ‘Miss Duprey, I must beg your forgiveness, but after yesterday, you must realise that any further—’

  ‘Never mind that, sir.’ She cast him a pleading glance. ‘My sister—’

  Before she could continue, the butler arrived to escort him to Lord Duprey’s study. He bowed to Miss Duprey, who wore a stricken expression on her face.

  Lord Duprey, sitting behind a large desk, rose when Devlin entered the room. Lean and sallow-skinned, with a shock of white hair framing an aristocratic face, he approached Devlin. As he came close, Devlin recognised eyes of the same shade of blue as Madeleine’s, except in this man bloodshot red surrounded the blue, and his lids were half closed in an expression of dissipation.

  ‘Lord Devlin,’ the man said formally, ‘please sit down.’ He gestured to a chair next to a table, where he poured them both generous glasses of sherry. Duprey, not waiting for his guest, took a long sip of the nut-brown liquid.

  Devlin remained standing. ‘I am very conscious of the early hour and have no wish to detain you beyond a moment.’

  Duprey peered at him through the slits in his eyes. ‘On the contrary. I am pleased that you have come. We have business to transact.’

  ‘We have no business to transact. I came to make that clear to you.’

  The older man walked back behind the desk and sat, taking another sip of his drink. ‘You have singled out my daughter for your attentions in a way no one could dispute. It is time for you to honour this declaration you have implied so strongly.’

  Devlin blanched. Surely this man had heard of the events of the previous day. ‘I dispute your words, sir. I have shown no partiality, as anyone on the town knows. I have no intentions toward your daughter Emily, and I wish to make that clear.’

  Lord Duprey’s eyebrows lifted in a mocking expression. ‘And I wish to make clear to you that you will honour your obligations to my daughter. You have been sniffing around her all Season, like some mongrel around a bitch. You will come up to scratch, or else.’

  Devlin bristled under the crude threat, but he was determined not to lose his temper. He sent Duprey an equally mocking, but menacing look. ‘Of which daughter do you speak?’

  Duprey drained the contents of his glass and poured himself another from a decanter on the desk. ‘So the chit told you, eh?’ He laughed, a dry mirthless sound. ‘Well, you will marry Emily Duprey and make this family an honourable connection to Heronvale’s fortune. I care not a whit how much you bed that little whore.’

  Devlin dove across the desk, grabbing Duprey by the knot in his neckcloth and scattering the desk’s contents to the floor. The man’s cheeks turned red as he sputtered for breath.

  ‘You dare speak of her that way again and I will kill you.’ Devlin released him and Duprey fell back into his chair.

  When Duprey regained his breath, he smiled sardonically. ‘I wonder what story she concocted for you, Steele. Probably some nonsense. I tell you, my luck was with me when she could not keep her skirts down for Farley—or, should I say, she could not keep her breeches up? Let me tell you, she was quite a sight in those clothes. Wished she wasn’t my daughter once or twice.’

  Devlin clenched his fists. Duprey again laug
hed, the racking sound repellent. ‘Yes, indeed, her lustiness quite settled my debts. Got rid of the expense of another useless daughter, as well.’

  ‘Do you mean you gave her to Farley in payment of gaming debts?’

  Duprey drained another glass of sherry. ‘Glad of it. Kept me from ruin.’

  ‘Damn you, Duprey,’ Devlin said through clenched teeth.

  The smile remained frozen on the older man’s face. ‘Well, damn you, Steele, because you are going to marry Emily or suffer the scandal. Your brother dislikes scandal, I’ll wager.’

  ‘The scandal is on your head, Duprey. No one will receive any member of your family after I tell them what you did to Madeleine.’

  ‘If they would believe you. My youngest daughter died, you see. There is a grave to prove it.’

  ‘An empty grave.’

  ‘Oh, it is not empty. I purchased a suitable corpse as soon as it became available.’

  Bile rose in Devlin’s throat.

  Duprey raised the ante. ‘So you would only expose the chit to much sordid attention.’

  Devlin gaped at the malevolent man seated so casually. Surely he was bluffing, a gamester playing the cards the only way possible when the deal was a poor one.

  This wager, however, involved not cards, but the reputations of the people Devlin held most dear. What effect on them if he played the game poorly?

  Devlin spun on his heel and left the suffocating atmosphere of the Duprey town house. Inhaling fresh air into his lungs. Devlin hurried to call upon his brother, only to discover he and Serena had left early for Heronvale. He begged paper and pen from Barclay and then rushed to his brother’s stable.

  Jem was inside.

  ‘Jem, thank God you are here. I need your help,’ Devlin said, not bothering with a greeting. ‘Is there a mount to carry me to Heronvale?’

  ‘Yes, my lord,’ Jem responded. ‘His lordship took the carriage with m’lady. How may I serve you?’

  ‘Have someone get the horse ready immediately and you deliver this letter to my apartments.’

  The doctor gestured for Madeleine and Bart to follow him out of the room where Sophie coughed softly as she lay abed.

  The doctor spoke in hushed tones. ‘She has a touch of consumption.’

  Bart wrung his hands. ‘Is there some palliative? A poultice?’

  ‘I am afraid there is little I can do. Country air would be as good as any tonic I could concoct. Alas, this city…’ The doctor shook his head. ‘It is bad for the lungs.’

  Bart gave Madeleine an agonised glance.

  ‘Then she shall go to the country,’ Madeleine said. ‘Bart, you could take her, could you not?’

  ‘It might be the very thing,’ the doctor said.

  Bart knitted his eyebrows. ‘Perhaps I could take her to Heronvale. They would take us in. The Marquess said he was in my debt. I should ask Dev.’

  Madeleine grabbed his arm. ‘You must not wait, surely. He might be gone all day.’

  ‘But what of you, Miss Maddy? I should not leave you.’

  She smiled. ‘You must. It is the only thing to do. I have become quite useful, you know. I am well able to care for things here. Do not give us a thought.’

  Bart needed no more coaxing. As soon as the doctor took his leave, the worried new husband was off to hire a posting chaise for his ill wife. Madeleine set to the task of packing Sophie’s belongings, refusing to listen to her friend’s protests.

  ‘Do not be nonsensical, Sophie,’ Madeleine scolded. ‘Devlin and I can manage very well.’

  Sophie curled up on her cot, making herself even smaller. ‘I cannot like being separated from you.’

  Madeleine came to her side and put her arms around her. ‘Please do not fret. Bart will care for you very well. He loves you, you know.’

  Sophie’s face took on a dreamy look. She nodded her head and lodged no further complaint.

  Within two hours, Madeleine and Linette watched the chaise drive away, driven by four sturdy but otherwise unremarkable mis-matched horses. Linette, as always, was in raptures about the beasts, but whimpered to see the coach drive away. She hugged her mother’s neck. Madeleine thought she might nap for a bit and took her upstairs.

  She had no sooner put Linette down upon her small bed when she heard the knocker. Thinking perhaps Bart and Sophie had forgotten something, she rushed down the stairs and flung open the door.

  Her sister Emily stood before her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Emily let out a gasp, her gloved hand flying up to cover her mouth. ‘I had thought…I thought this Lord Devlin’s residence.’

  Madeleine eyed Emily warily. ‘It is, but he is not here presently.’ What could have induced her sister to come here? Surely their mother would not allow such an improper visit.

  Emily twisted the cords of her reticule, looking even more discomposed. ‘Oh, dear.’ She glanced back at the street where a carriage drove out of sight. ‘The hack has left.’

  ‘Then you’d best come in.’ Madeleine stepped aside, holding the door ajar so Emily could pass into the hallway. She continued to look anxious and confused.

  Madeleine’s heart beat with excitement. She had not spoken to a member of her family for almost four years.

  Emily turned to her. ‘I did not know you would be here. That is, I did not realise…’ She gave a deep sigh. ‘I do not understand any of this!’

  Madeleine remembered her sister Emily, two years older, as far more knowledgeable and worldly than she. At this moment, however, she felt herself to be the wiser one. Among the jumble of feelings swirling around inside her was a strong desire to throw her arms around Emily in a sisterly embrace.

  ‘Come into the parlour.’ Madeleine led the way and closed the door behind them.

  Emily spun around to her. ‘Oh, Madeleine! I had no notion…’ Tears welled in her eyes. ‘I thought you were dead.’

  Had news of Madeleine’s fall from respectability been kept from Emily? Madeleine always assumed her sisters knew all about it and welcomed the ruse of her demise as her parents must have.

  Emily continued, ‘How came you to be with L…Lord Devlin? Oh, I do not understand any of it! And Mama would tell me nothing, and Papa said I was a fool and had better keep my mouth shut.’

  ‘You did not know?’ Madeleine still could not believe it. She took a tentative step toward her sister, who quickly closed the distance and gave her the embrace Madeleine had longed for.

  ‘Madeleine, Madeleine.’ Emily choked back sobs. ‘I have felt so guilty. Jessame and I had teased you so, and then you disappeared. You were not found for ages. Papa said no one could see the…the body, because it had been outside so long… Although it could not have been, because you are here, so it must have all been a hoax.’

  Madeleine patted her back. ‘Now, do not cry, Emily. There is no need. Indeed, I am so sorry to have given you such a shock. Come, sit down and I will get us some tea.’

  She persuaded Emily to sit on the settee until she brought the tea and, when they were seated together, gave her sister a somewhat amended version of the events that brought them both to the present moment. Among the details Madeleine neglected to mention were a precise description of the duties required of her by Farley, the exact nature of her relationship with Devlin, and, of course, the existence of Linette.

  ‘So, you see, Lord Devlin has been so kind as to assist me, and when he comes into his fortune he will lend me the money to set up a…a dress shop.’

  Perhaps this rose-colored version would help to preserve Devlin’s opportunity to marry Emily, if that were still his intent. To think he might become a part of the family Madeleine had lost, however, was very difficult to contemplate.

  She changed the subject. ‘Emily, why have you come here? You really should not have. This is a single gentleman’s residence.’

  ‘I know I should not have come, but I could not let Papa—’ She grabbed Madeleine’s arm. ‘Papa means to force Lord Devlin to marry me. He threate
ns to send a notice to the Gazette that Lord Devlin has offered for me, but it is all untrue.’

  ‘It is untrue?’

  ‘Indeed.’ Emily sighed heavily. ‘I must stop him.’

  Madeleine stared at her sister, fumbling at her words. ‘But I thought…I thought Devlin did wish to marry you.’

  ‘No, I do not think so.’ Emily’s brow furrowed. ‘He courted the Season’s Diamond as much as he did me, and I think she may have refused Greythorne for him…’

  Madeleine’s eyebrows lifted. Devlin courted a Diamond of the ton?

  Emily continued. ‘At least that is what they say. I am persuaded Lord Devlin never intended to marry me, no matter how much our brother Robert boasted of it all over town. Indeed, I tried to explain to Papa, but he would not listen.’

  But Devlin said Emily had been his choice. Had that been untrue? Did he say that to cover up his wish to marry a Diamond?

  ‘Why do you think Devlin would not marry you?’

  Emily gave a little laugh. ‘Oh, Madeleine, look at me. I am no beauty. There is nothing to distinguish me from other ladies. Certainly nothing to compete with the pick of the Season.’

  Her sister looked well enough, Madeleine thought. Indeed, Emily’s face seemed comfortably dear. Madeleine had not realised how much she’d missed this sister she’d thought never cared a fig for her.

  A door slammed and halting footsteps sounded on the stairs. ‘Mama! Mama!’

  Madeleine froze. Emily stared at her, eyebrows raised.