‘And you are most conscientious in acknowledging it, even if you cannot hold her in affection,’ Sebastian said. ‘Come, let’s extricate ourselves from this mêlée.’
* * *
The room into which he led her was on the first floor, the dim lighting and concentrated hush a stark contrast to the noise and glitter they had just escaped from. At the centre stood a faro table, presided over by an extremely tall, thin man of about fifty. None of the other players paid Caro and Sebastian any attention, for all eyes were focused on the game. The atmosphere was tense, an air of almost palpable excitement hung over the room. She was not the only woman present, Caro was relieved to note. Catching sight of the large piles of gold on the table however, she began to feel quite sick.
She had gone round and round the problem of raising funds for the last week, but her conscience would not allow her to sell any of her jewellery even if had she known how to go about such a thing, and she could not think of a single reason which Bella would accept for her asking for an advance on her allowance. Still she had managed to amass what she considered a small fortune, certainly more than the annual salary of a laundry maid. She had been quite sure this vast sum would more than suffice for one night of deep playing, but now she was having her doubts. ‘Sebastian, what is the minimum stake?’
‘Twenty guineas.’
‘Twenty!’ she squeaked. ‘But I have only fifteen in total.’
Rather than curse her naivety, Sebastian seemed to be biting back a laugh. ‘Keep your guineas, we will use mine. And before you tell me that would be wrong, let me point out that firstly, I am more than wealthy enough to bear the loss, secondly, I am happy to donate the funds in the name of scientific experimentation, and thirdly, you lost the right to champion propriety the moment you bribed me into bringing you here.’ He produced a weighty purse and tried to put it into her hands.
Caro shook her head. ‘I cannot risk gambling such huge sums. What if Cressie is mistaken? What if I lose?’
‘Ye of little faith. What would Lady Cressida say, to hear you doubting her?’ Sebastian wrapped her fingers round the purse, and steered her towards the table.
Though the minimum wager seemed astronomical to her, Caro was astounded to discover that almost no one bet so low. Despite—or perhaps because—the money at stake was Sebastian’s, she could not bring herself to do other than bet much more modest amounts. She lost steadily regardless.
‘Perhaps I have misunderstood Cressie’s theory,’ she said, struggling to hide her rising panic after half an hour’s play and not a single win. ‘I think we should leave.’
‘No, no. You must stick to your guns and trust your system,’ Sebastian said, ‘any hardened gamester would tell you that.’
But she was not a hardened gamester, as Sebastian knew perfectly well. Was he punishing her? She could detect nothing in the bland look he gave her. The dealer turned another card, and she lost another twenty guineas. She was not enjoying herself one whit, and was very sure that despite her mask and her turban, her feelings were apparent to everyone else around the table. The other players, in contrast, seemed most adept at masking their emotions. Only the widening of the man in the olive-green coat’s eyes, the slight tic at the side of that man in the yellow waistcoat’s mouth, the way the man with the fair curly hair compulsively tucked an errant lock behind his ear betrayed them when they lost.
* * *
Half an hour later, the purse which Sebastian gave her was decidedly lighter and Caro had had enough. ‘It’s not working,’ she said miserably. ‘Cressie was mistaken. I would like to leave now.’
‘Nonsense. Why not carry on? I’m sure your luck will change.’
‘Sebastian, it’s got nothing to do with luck. Cressie says...’ She stopped, remembering Cressie had miscalculated. ‘Shall we go?’
‘Aren’t you enjoying yourself?’
‘You know perfectly well I’m not. I was wrong and you were right and I’m sorry, but please, Sebastian, I’d like to go home now.’
He pressed her hand. ‘That is your first sensible decision of the evening. Let’s get out of here.’
* * *
It was a relief to leave the claustrophobic atmosphere of the club. Alone with Sebastian in the carriage, Caro pulled off her mask and turban, casting both on to the floor in disgust. Turning towards him, she braced herself for a setting down. ‘You were right. I should not have gone there. It was awful and I put you in a terrible position and you have no doubt been bored senseless and—well, I am sorry.’
Sebastian, to her astonishment, laughed. ‘I haven’t been bored. I admit I was angry at first, but with myself, not you. I should not have allowed a mere chit of a girl to blackmail me, but you know, I am quite glad that you did.’
‘Glad! I have lost you a small fortune.’
‘But of course you have.’
‘You knew that Cressie’s system would not work?’
‘Yes, but it was nothing to do with her mathematics. I am sure the theory was sound. The problem is, it didn’t take account of the reality of the situation.’
‘You mean I was too inexperienced a player?’
He laughed again. ‘Certainly, your inexperience contributed. They had you marked out as a little lamb to be fleeced the minute you placed your first bet. Caro, no system can work when the cards are stacked. No matter how long you play, your luck will never turn in a hell like that. Only the banker will ever win.’
Her eyes widened. ‘You mean the cards were fixed? You mean the banker was cheating?’
‘What else did you expect? There is a reason these places are called gaming hells. That is the reason—one of the many reasons—why they are no place for an innocent like you.’
She took a moment to digest this information. ‘If you knew that, why then did you not tell me?’
‘Would you have paid any heed?’
No, for the embarrassing fact was that she had been so intent on trying to impress him with her nerve that she had not, until she arrived at the club, thought about the risks. ‘I have spoilt it all,’ she said.
Sebastian shifted closer to her on the squabs. ‘Quite right, you have. I am utterly disgusted with your brazen behaviour.’
She eyed him sceptically, but his face was difficult to read in the gloom of the carriage. ‘I would not have thought it would be so easy to shock such a hardened rake.’
He took her hands between his, rubbing warmth into her fingertips. ‘I was not playing the rake tonight, but your knight errant. My motives for escorting you were purely chivalrous.’
His touch was sending shivers up her arms that had nothing to do with the cold. His thigh brushed her skirts. The toe of his evening shoe lay against her slipper. ‘Now that, I know to be a lie,’ Caro said. ‘Were you truly a gentleman you would have taken the simple step of informing Bella of my intentions.’
‘And were you truly a lady, you would not have cast that point up at me. I find it extraordinary that you are known as the dutiful one amongst your sisters.’
‘But I am. Only you make me—ah! Now I see that you are truly a rake, for that is your skill, to make perfectly respectable and extremely dutiful young ladies behave outrageously.’
Sebastian’s fingers tightened on hers. ‘I have never in my life been interested in respectable young ladies. I know only one with outrageous tendencies, and she is sitting right next to me.’
This was whispered into her ear. The carriage had come to a halt just out of the reach of the glow of a street lamp. Caro’s mouth went dry. Not fear, she wasn’t frightened at all. ‘You are saying we are equally to blame, then, for we have each encouraged the other.’
‘What I am saying is that I would like very much to kiss you.’ His mouth hovered over hers. Her stomach clenched in anticipation. His breath caressed her cheek. Then he sighed, a stra
nge, guttural sound. He lifted her gloved hand to his mouth and brushed his lips over her fingertips. ‘There, you see, it appears I am not such a confirmed rake after all. It is late. Let me check that the way is clear, and I will escort you safely to your door.’
‘No!’ Without thinking, she pulled him towards her. Her heart was hammering. She felt giddy with a kind of fluttering excitement. It seemed she was every bit as outrageous as he said, and more. ‘No,’ she said, ‘don’t go. I want you to kiss me.’
* * *
Sebastian hesitated. He ought not to, he knew he ought not to, but he could not resist her. He knew the moment his lips touched hers that it was her first kiss. That should have made him stop, but instead it set him on fire. The soft uncertainty of her touch, the way she puckered her mouth, as if she would kiss a child, and the tiny little gasp when he ran his tongue over her lips to open her to him, sent the blood rushing to his groin.
Caro twined her arms around his neck, her mouth pliant, soft, her body melting against his. She tasted like honey. No, ridiculous thing to think. Nectar. Peaches. She tasted so sweet.
Gently, he disentangled himself. ‘Too sweet,’ he said, as if it would explain. ‘Caro, you know this is wrong.’
She said nothing.
‘Caroline, I know it is wrong. I beg...’
‘Please don’t say you’re sorry, Sebastian. Not unless you mean it.’
He swore. Then he laughed. ‘Outrageous. I am not sorry, but nor am I sorry I stopped.’
‘I don’t suppose I’ll see you again now for another four years,’ she said in a small voice.
She was right, their paths were not likely to cross save by the purest of chance, for they inhabited very different worlds. Save that he was very bored with his world. Hadn’t he been thinking only this morning that he needed a change? And tonight, he had not been bored at all in Caro’s company. Perhaps more of such company would give him some perspective on his life. ‘Perhaps,’ Sebastian said, ‘my father had a point for once in his life.’
‘Your father?’
‘He told me to seek out more respectable company.’
‘You mean me? But you’ve just told me I’m outrageous.’
‘Ah, but you are respectably so.’
Caro laughed uncertainly. ‘Do you mean to develop a taste for polite society?’
‘I rather think I do,’ Sebastian replied, to his own amazement.
Chapter Four
London—1824
Caro placed the glass of fruit punch on the table next to her stepmother, who was fanning herself frantically. ‘The heat in this place is unbearable, I feel as if I am about to melt,’ Bella gasped, taking a grateful sip.
Standing by her side in a ball gown of pale yellow that did nothing for her complexion, Cressie looked hopeful. ‘Perhaps we should leave.’
‘Certainly not,’ Bella snapped. ‘Not only is our hostess our country neighbour, but Lady Innellan’s ball is recognised as the high point of the Season. You surprise me, Cressida. I am sure that Mr Peyton is here, and will be most disappointed not to be given your hand for at least one dance.’
Cressie’s smile was more like a grimace. ‘I was thinking only of your condition,’ she said. ‘I am sure Papa would not wish to put your unborn child at risk.’
Bella patted the swollen mound of her stomach, which seemed to Caro to be growing at a frightening rate. ‘I am perfectly well, thank you. I know my duty. Your father is most eager to have you off his hands, Cressida. Besides, you would not wish to spoil your sister’s chances. Not when she is doing a fine enough job of that on her own, by allowing that man to pay her such attentions. If he is here tonight, Caroline, you will oblige me by granting him a solitary dance. You are looking very well, I have to say. It would be a shame to waste it on someone who has absolutely no intentions whatsoever of offering for you.’
Startled by her stepmother’s acuity even more than the back-handed compliment, Caro could only stare blankly.
‘You wonder how I know such things,’ Bella said with one of her tight little smiles. ‘I would remind you, Caroline, that I am responsible for you in your father’s absence, and I have no intention of incurring his wrath by allowing you to make a fool of yourself. It was your Aunt Sophia who tipped me off about the Earl of Mosteyn’s shocking reputation.’ Bella pursed her lips and shook her head. ‘I confess I am at a loss as to why he seems to have changed his habits so radically these last two months or so.’
It was a question Caro would be hard-pressed to answer herself. When Sebastian had turned up at a ton party the week after they had visited Crockford’s, she had been gratified and a little uncertain as to how to behave. Recalling how very boldly she had flirted—yes, flirted!—with him, positively demanding that he kiss her, made her blood run hot and cold.
But that kiss, her first kiss, she could not regret, no matter how improperly she had behaved. The first time he had appeared at a ball, bowing in front of her, asking her hostess to introduce them, she had been unable to stop blushing. But when he smiled at her, that curious upside-down smile, she had been carried away with the thrill of knowing that this man, this sophisticated, fascinating, wildly attractive man, was here solely because of her.
She had been captivated ever since, though she had been very careful not to let Sebastian see how very enthralled she had become. If she was honest, she was in serious danger of falling in love with him. She had forgotten all about the reasons for her being here, her dutiful desire to make a marriage to please her father, her resolution to be a good daughter and not to cause a scandal as her elder sisters had done. Not until Bella had cautioned her tonight had it occurred to her that she was coming close to crossing the line.
Sebastian made her laugh with the shocking things he whispered in her ear when they were dancing. He made her skin tingle when he touched her. He made her wish she did not have to dance with anyone else. She knew he flirted with her only because he was sure—and she had been at great pains to make sure he was sure—that she understood it meant nothing. She knew it would end, and she would eventually come back down to earth, but she didn’t want to land with a bump just yet.
He had scrupulously avoided placing her in any sort of compromising situation. He had not been alone with her. He had not once made any attempt to kiss her again. Yet despite repeatedly reading herself a lecture on the subject of Sebastian’s lack of intentions, she couldn’t help but hope, for he had singled her out, and he did sometimes look at her in a way that made her hope for the impossible.
‘Perhaps,’ Caro said to her stepmother, tentatively testing the water, ‘Sebastian—I mean Lord Mosteyn—is reforming his ways and should therefore be encouraged in his endeavour?’
Bella snorted. ‘A rake is a rake and always will be. ’Tis only in the pages of a novel published by the Minerva Press that they are reformed.’ She snapped her fan shut, eying her stepdaughter beadily. ‘I have not spoken until now, Caroline, for I had hoped your own good sense would guide you. You are an obedient little thing on the whole, but there is a wilful streak in you which must be curbed. This flirtation must come to an end before you ruin your chances. I know you will not wish to heed me on this, so I must warn you that I have already taken the precaution of speaking to your father on the subject.’
‘Bella! There was no need to do so. I assure you, I am perfectly well aware that Lord Mosteyn’s intentions are—that he has none.’
‘Which makes your encouragement of him quite incomprehensible,’ her stepmother replied implacably. ‘Do you wish to be known as an inveterate flirt? I will not sully your ears with the vernacular, but I assure you, it is not a phrase you would wish to have associated with your person. You may have one dance tonight, during which you will inform the earl that his attentions are no longer agreeable to you, and you will hitherto avoid his company.’
‘And that, dear sister,’ Cressie whispered in Caro’s ear, ‘is a warning you would do well to appear to heed. I know you don’t want to hear this, but Bella is right you know. Lord Sebastian is most certainly not on Papa’s list of eligibles. I couldn’t bear for you to be hurt, dearest.’
‘I won’t be, I promise,’ Caro said, squeezing her sister’s hand. ‘It’s just that Sebastian is—he is—oh, I can’t explain. I know he has a dreadful reputation, but...’
‘Caro,’ Cressie said urgently, ‘Caro, Bella is right about that too. Rakes do not reform; it is not in their nature. Please tell me you are not in love with him.’
‘No! No, of course I am not. That would be perfectly—foolish.’ Was she blushing? No, it was just very hot in here. She wished she had Bella’s fan. She met her sister’s concerned gaze unwaveringly. ‘I am perfectly safe, I promise you. I know my duty, and I will do it, just—just not quite yet. In any event, it is your turn first.’
She said it lightly, meaning merely to turn the conversation away from herself, but Cressie looked troubled. ‘If only it was that easy,’ she muttered.
‘What do you mean?’
But Cressie, seemingly reassured, was now distracted by the sight of Giles Peyton making his way towards them across the dance floor. Cressie did not seem to Caro particularly happy about this. In fact Cressie seemed to Caro positively unhappy these days. She’d tried to talk to her, only to be assured entirely unconvincingly that she was perfectly fine.
Continuing to watch her sister out of the corner of her eye, Caro smoothed down the folds of her evening gown. Cream silk brocade, embroidered with tiny sprigs of greenery, it was in the latest fashion, fitted to the waist with a scooped décolleté trimmed with cream lace, the puffed sleeves and the skirt both wide. The shape, which made more generously proportioned females look rather galleon-like, suited Caro’s slim frame perfectly. Tonight her hair was behaving itself, piled elegantly on top of her head, leaving an expanse of neck and shoulder exposed, which looked creamy rather than white for once. She would never be beautiful like Cassie or Cordelia, but tonight her mirror had told her that she’d pass muster. Which pleased her for her own sake, and absolutely not because she hoped Sebastian would notice.
Rumors That Ruined a Lady Page 7