Lord Ashford's Wager

by Marjorie Farrell

  “For a short while. Then I will have to go to St. James Street to clear myself.”

  “Of course,” Claudia murmured.

  “But we will have a waltz and supper together at Devonshire House tomorrow.”

  “I will look forward to that, then.”

  “I must go, Claudia. But I thank you, my lady, with all my heart, for your generous friendship.” The look in Tony’s eyes more than compensated for the few moments of disappointment on the sofa.

  Chapter 8

  Jim stood on the corner, waiting for the hansom cab to pick him up. He was a few blocks from the house, but shuffled his feet nervously, for another servant might come by at any time. He was relieved to see the cab approaching and have the door opened for him from the inside.

  “Good afternoon, your lordship,” he said as he settled into the cab.

  “Good afternoon, Jim. Do you have anything new to report to me?”

  Jim felt very important as he nodded solemnly and said, “Indeed I do, my lord.”

  Fairhaven’s eyes narrowed, and when Jim looked into his face a sort of shiver went through him at the predatory look on his employer’s face. He hesitated for a moment, but then remembered he was not feeding mice to an impatient cat, but giving a member of Lady Fairhaven’s family information that might save her from an irredeemable mistake.

  “Well?” Fairhaven demanded sharply.

  “Lord Ashford visited Lady Fairhaven early yesterday afternoon. Of course I couldn’t overhear their conversation, but William, the upper-footman, told me that he had been sent to cash a bank draft for over six hundred guineas and then directed to deliver the money to Lord Ashford. I am sure that Ashford came for the express purpose of begging money.”

  “So he is finally showing his true colors,” said Fairhaven, with great satisfaction. “I knew that my cousin was in danger, Jim. I admit that I hated to hire a spy, but I needed to know that my suspicions had some basis. Now I know they do.”

  “I have become very devoted to her ladyship,” Jim volunteered hesitantly. “Any reservations about my job are quite gone now.”

  Fairhaven drew a guinea out of his pocket. “Here is a bonus for your work, Jim. I will find some way to put this information to good use.” He ordered the cab to let him down at the next corner and returned home in a far happier mood than he had been for days.

  * * * *

  That night, he too was to be at Devonshire House, and left his office early in order to stop at his club, something he rarely did. It was his lucky day, he decided, for not only did he have Jim’s piece of information, but when he entered, all the talk was of how Tony Varden had dropped almost six hundred guineas at Rouge et Noir last night.

  “And you know Tony,” said one of Ashford’s acquaintances proudly. “He never turned a hair. Cool as you please, he kept betting the black. Won a little at first, but even when he started losing, his expression never changed. Down five hundred seventy guineas and he spent the rest treating the house to champagne, as if he were a winner, not a loser. God knows where he got the money to play with to begin with.”

  “Rumor has it, from a certain not-so-young widow,” said another, not realizing who had just walked in behind him.

  “Are you referring to Lady Fairhaven?” asked Mark coldly.

  “Er…not especifically, why no, of course not.”

  “Good, for I would hate to have my cousin’s name bandied about.”

  “Good God, Henry,” said his friend as Mark moved on to the other room, “Watch what you say.”

  “Well, it is well known that Ashford is after her. And that she isn’t running away. I’ll bet it will be a match within a month.”

  “You are behind the times, Henry. I entered that bet in the books over two weeks ago. But I will bet that Ashford’s gambling makes her think twice about marrying him. If she ain’t careful, he’ll go through her fortune.”

  * * * *

  When he got to Devonshire House, Mark found his cousin immediately and made sure to obtain a waltz with her later on in the evening. He danced with a few young ladies and made polite conversation, but most of his attention was taken up watching for Ashford’s arrival.

  When Mark went to claim Claudia for his waltz, Tony had still not arrived. No doubt he did not have the courage to face her, thought Mark, as he led Claudia onto the dance floor.

  After the dance ended, he asked Claudia if she would like to go for a short walk in the garden. “You look a bit drawn, my dear,” he added solicitously.

  Claudia took one last look around the room and then thanked Mark and took his arm.

  He was very careful not to move out of sight of the couples that were walking outside. He did not intend to betray his own interest yet. But he did make sure they were out of hearing when he sat Claudia down on a bench facing one corner of the knot garden.

  “Claudia, I am hesitant to bring this up again, but I am worried about you and Ashford.”

  “Mark, we have already gone over this.”

  “I know, but last time we spoke, I had only heard second- and third-hand rumors about his gambling. I have seen your growing interest in him and it has worried me, but since I wish only for your happiness, I did not intend to say anything. Now I must. The news was all over my club that Ashford dropped almost six hundred guineas at the tables last night. Or five hundred and eighty, to be precise. The rest he spent in drinks for all and sundry,” added Mark dryly.

  He heard Claudia’s sharp intake of breath and smiled to himself.

  “There are wagers in the books on whether Ashford will succeed in winning a certain Lady F. I hate to have you treated in such a vulgar fashion, Claudia, but if you continue seeing Ashford, that is what you can expect.” Mark hesitated. “I also couldn’t help but wonder where Ashford got the money. He has never gone to the tables with that much before. You didn’t fund him, did you, my dear?”

  Claudia thought that she had never hated Mark Halesworth so much as at that moment. She was sure he didn’t care at all for her reputation, but was more concerned with her feelings for Tony Varden. Underneath all his supposed concern she was sure he was gloating. She could feel it. Now you see I was right, he was only after your money. Except he didn’t have the courage to say it straight out.

  Underneath her fierce anger at Mark she was very hurt. How could Tony have promised and then gone right off to the tables? Were Mark and all the gossips right? Was there nothing to Tony but the fortune hunter and compulsive gamester? Had she completely deceived herself and seen affection where there was none, merely because she had fallen in love like a green girl? Well, whatever the truth was, she wasn’t about to let Mark see it.

  “I did give him the money. Not that it is anyone’s business,” Claudia answered coldly. “It is, after all, my money, and I can do with it as I wish.”

  “But surely you meant him to pay off his creditors, not throw it away on the table.”

  “I don’t put conditions on my gifts, Mark. I had no idea what Tony wanted the money for,” she lied.

  “But now that you know? Surely you won’t—”

  “Won’t what? Marry him? I will if he asks me. And if he doesn’t, perhaps I will ask him,” she added boldly. “You see, Tony and I are very good friends.”

  “Friendship is no basis for marriage, Claudia.”

  “We are more than just good friends, Mark. And I am a grown woman now. I can marry whomever I wish. And I wish to marry Tony Varden.”

  “I thought you and Cousin Justin were very happy together.”

  “Of course we were. But we might easily not have been, a seventeen-year-old girl and a forty-seven-year-old man. This time, I will do the choosing.”

  “You mean buying.”

  Claudia wanted to slap Mark across his self-satisfied face, but she resisted. As she stood up, she said: “I am going to marry Tony, Mark. And believe me, I will be very happy with a young husband. If you do not approve, that is your business, but I do not need your advice, however w
ell meaning,” she added, with some sarcasm. “Of course, if you cannot bring yourself to accept my decision, you need not visit. Now, please, I would like to go in.”

  Claudia smiled and chatted and danced for the rest of the evening, making sure that none would think her concerned by Tony’s absence or the gossip that was floating around her. All the while, of course, she was suffering, and was never so glad to have an evening end. When she got home, she dismissed her maid, undressed herself, and crawled under the covers, where she cried herself to sleep. She had meant what she said to Mark: she would marry Tony, one way or another. But she had so hoped to marry the man she knew Tony could become.

  * * * *

  Mark went home frustrated and furious. He had hardly needed to plant a spy in the house, had he? he asked himself sarcastically. Claudia herself was perfectly willing to tell him where things stood. While he had intended to provoke her by his use of his private information, it certainly had not been to a declaration. Although, now that he thought of it, it was his use of Jim’s information that had gotten her to reveal the state of her heart. She was obviously determined to marry Ashford, no matter what kind of fool he was. He would have to do something—and soon—to prevent it.

  Chapter 9

  Tony had intended to ignore the gossips and attend the Devonshire House rout. He knew Claudia was expecting him and he knew he should be there, showing his affection, so that she didn’t suffer more from rumor than he did. But when the moment came, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face her again with empty pockets. He had looked desperately around his room and finally had sent his valet out with his second-best pair of boots and a gold watch that had belonged to his father. He had almost added the Ashford signet ring, but the act of pulling it off his finger brought back the day before Ned had died. His brother had been too weak to do it himself and had lifted his hand to Tony and whispered: “Take it now, Tony. It will be yours very soon anyway.” He had protested, but Ned had just smiled and run his hand gently over his brother’s curls as Tony lay his head on Ned’s hand, trying to choke back the tears. He had already failed Ned miserably, but he would not sell the Ashford ring.

  The boots and the watch fetched enough so that he could go back to 75 St. James and lay more money in the black. He had started with black, been lucky with it, and he was not going to desert it. He’d be faithful to one thing in his life, by God, even if it was only to the color of a card.

  He started out low, being careful of his money, and when he lost on the first three deals, he still had enough to place a small bet on the fourth. He won. And kept on winning. By the end of the evening he had recouped almost three hundred guineas of Claudia’s money. His step on the stairs to his lodgings was a lot lighter coming in than it had been going out. He fell into his bed exhausted and didn’t wake up until the next afternoon.

  He didn’t call on Claudia, but sent her a small bouquet of flowers, promising to see her at the Ferrars’, and asking her to save him a waltz. He was tempted to pay off a few creditors, but decided that he would wait. He wanted to show Claudia the money he’d won and assure her that all he needed was another three hundred. The last loan. And this time he would pay off his debts, every last one of them. And then ask Claudia to marry him.

  * * * *

  He arrived early at the Ferrars’ dinner dance, creating a minor storm of gossip. By now, of course, it was known he had won the night before, so no one was surprised that he was present and at his most charming.

  “Not that he ever lets on when he is losing,” said Lord Burleigh to his host. “I’ve never seen anyone cooler than Ashford.”

  When Claudia arrived, Tony approached her immediately. He had decided to act as though nothing had happened. She undoubtedly had heard gossip, but he wanted to explain himself in the privacy of her drawing room, not at a crowded dinner dance.

  Their waltz was something of a disappointment. Although Tony was at his most charming, it felt like a brittle charm to his partner. And all the while they danced, Claudia could not help wondering whether Tony would admit his failure to her.

  She had been claimed for supper and was already seated when she saw Tony escort Lady Joanna Barrand in. They were old friends from childhood, Claudia knew, and closer in age than she and Tony. Suddenly she felt her spirits sink. Perhaps affectionate friendship would not be enough for her. Tony was not treating Joanna any differently than he treated Claudia. Although at least she had Tony’s kisses, after all.

  Tony was not having as comfortable a supper as it appeared. He was trying to keep his mind off Claudia and on Joanna, but was finding it difficult, and Joanna was not making it any easier. Oh, she was chatting away with him, but he could feel a certain coolness in the air. She would have heard the gossip too, and probably, like everyone else, saw him as a fortune hunter. He cared a great deal about what Joanna thought of him, for she was connected so closely to childhood and Ned in his mind. At some point he would have to reassure her that he did care about Lady Fairhaven, above and beyond her money.

  Joanna thought she had been unhappy at the beginning of the Season when Tony’s interest in Lady Fairhaven had first become evident. She had watched them closely, wondering why she was tormenting herself, but wanting some sign that Tony cared about the lady as well as her fortune.

  Of course, when she saw them on the dance floor or seeking “fresh air,” she decided, to Tony’s credit, he seemed to have some genuine feeling for Lady Fairhaven. But aside from her relief that her old friend’s integrity was more or less intact, it did not make her feel any better.

  She was the world’s biggest fool, she decided. She had loved Tony Varden since she was a young girl. When Ned died, she had been ashamed that her real grief was mixed with hope that the loss of his brother might bring them closer, might reshape the habits and patterns of old friendship. But Tony had never sought comfort from her. Instead, he had sought it at 75 St. James Street. And then in the arms of Lady Fairhaven. The one thing Joanna could be thankful for was that no one had ever guessed her secret.

  Tony’s most recent behavior had appalled her. If gossips were correct, he had borrowed a tidy sum from Claudia and immediately thrown it away on Rouge et Noir. And here he was, acting as if nothing had happened. How could she respect, much less love, such a man?

  At the end of the evening, Tony asked Claudia if he might escort her home. She knew they had to have it out sometime, and so she agreed. The ride home was made in uncomfortable silence, now that there were no social forms to ease their way.

  The butler opened the door for them and motioned to Jim to take their wraps.

  “Please bring a decanter of brandy to the library, Dawson.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Will you join me, Tony?” asked Claudia, not waiting for an answer and proceeding down the hall to the library. Tony followed, aware that she had chosen a rather formal room for their confrontation, for that was what he expected this to be.

  Claudia was shaking with both anger and nerves. Here she was, deeply in love with a man who was on the brink of disaster. She had been able to dismiss Tony’s gambling as a result of his grief and desperation. But he had made her a promise and not kept his word. She knew of too many men who made a life of broken promises over gambling or drinking. She wanted to save Tony from that, but she was not about to sacrifice herself in the process.

  “Please close the door, Tony,” she said, and turned to face him.

  He looked like a shamefaced boy for one unguarded moment, and this time it did not draw her sympathy but her anger. At some point that boy had to grow up. It was high time.

  “I have heard the gossip, Tony. In fact, I have had to put up with Lord Fairhaven warning me that everyone knows you have borrowed money from me and gambled it away. Can you explain?”

  Tony was taken aback. He had never seen Claudia angry, nor expected to face more than disappointment. All his savoir faire deserted him, and unfortunately he looked even more boyish as he attempted an explanation.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the three hundred-pound notes and held them out.

  “I did lose the other night, Claudia, but I won back half of it.”

  “But you did not pay off any of your debts as you promised.”

  “Well…no…you see, I was hoping to double what you had given me and pay you back as well.”

  “And now?”

  “I know this will sound outrageous…but I was hoping you could lend me more. Only three hundred this time,” he rushed to point out before she could open her mouth.

  Neither heard the door click behind them or noticed Dawson standing there with the brandy.

  “You are a fool indeed if you think I will give you a penny more of my money, Lord Ashford,” said Claudia, furious at his effrontery.

  Dawson cleared his throat. “The brandy, my lady.”

  Claudia blushed and Tony turned his back to the butler, walking over to the window.

  “Set it down, Dawson. And you may retire.”

  ‘Thank you, my lady.”

  Tony turned around and looked Claudia in the eye. “I understand completely, Lady Fairhaven. I am sure you wish me in Jericho right now. I promise I will not bother you again. I cannot spare you the gossip, but it will die down, I assure you.”

  There was no trace of the bewildered boy in Tony’s eyes. They were a man’s eyes, bleak and despairing, but at least facing things as they were.

  “Don’t leave, Tony,” said Claudia softly as he turned to go.

  “I am sure I have hurt you, Claudia, and I wouldn’t have done that for the world. I do have a great affection for you. I want you to know that. And we both have felt the attraction between us. But I also need your money. God help me,” he groaned, “I never thought I would end up the rankest fortune hunter. But at least I can leave you alone from now on.”

  “So that I can fall prey to a fortune hunter who doesn’t care about me? Or even desire me?” asked Claudia with a crooked smile. “Someone like Mark Halesworth?”