by Fish, Aileen
Mattie tried to convince herself of that, but by the end of the evening she still worried.
When they joined the other patrons pushing toward the stairs at the end of the show, Mattie prayed she wouldn’t see Markham outside while they awaited their carriage. Her bad luck continued.
“Don’t look to your right. They’re three couples over and behind us.” Charlotte slipped around Mattie, placing herself between her friend and Markham.
Never one to resist temptation, Mattie glanced over her shoulder. The woman, curvaceous and beautiful, held his arm very familiarly as they talked and laughed. Who was she?
Memories rose, the gossip that had led, in part, to his being called a miscreant. He frequented a bawdy house, one of the finer ones, but still, a disreputable place of debauchery. That rumor alternated with one saying he kept a woman, and she was definitely the reason he avoided marriage. But would he be seen with his paramour in such a public place?
Obviously, yes. Whoever she was, he had no qualms at being with her in Polite Society.
Charlotte continued to chatter in an attempt to keep Mattie’s attention occupied, but she failed horribly.
They were still three rows deep in the crowd, leaving them trapped, and as people funneled through the entrance, that brought Markham and his companion—Mattie couldn’t call her a lady until she knew who the woman was—closer.
Then Mr. Harrow noticed them. “Markham, did you enjoy the performance?”
The marquess’s smile was relaxed, showing no distress at being seen. “Quite so. I’m glad we were able to see it. I’ve been preoccupied with business.”
“Yes, one must sometimes set business aside and enjoy some entertainment.”
Mattie tried to hide behind Charlotte as the men talked, but it did no good.
“Lady Matilda, good evening.” Markham singled her out before greeting Charlotte and Mrs. Harrow.
“Hello, Lord Markham.”
Whether he meant to or not, he neglected to introduce his companion, even though Mattie gave him several pointed looks.
Charlotte spoke more to the point. “Lord Adam and his wife are hosting an evening of cards Thursday night. Will you be there?”
“I’m not certain of my plans. I hope to join you ladies, though.”
Now he met Mattie’s gaze, although she was unable to make out what she read in his expression. Did he mean to imply he still cared for her, or that she should ignore the fact he was there with another woman? She couldn’t do so. It hurt too much to bear.
All her dreams were shattered in one night.
Leaning close to speak in Charlotte’s ear, Mattie said, “I don’t think I can attend Mary Jane’s party.”
“You’ll feel stronger in the morning. We’ll discuss it then.”
***
Mattie was shocked when a footman informed her Lord Markham was calling on her. It was barely time for morning calls, and she had no desire to see him after the previous night.
Still, she left the morning room to greet him in the drawing room. “Good morning. Please, sit.”
“Good morning. You look well.”
She’d seen the mirror that morning, she looked hungover even though she’d had nothing to drink. Having nothing she wished to say, she sat unspeaking.
“That was an entertaining performance last night, wasn’t it?” Markham shoved his hair off his forehead.
Last night was the last thing he wanted to talk about. And after last night, he was the last person she wanted to see.
His color whitened a bit. “Have you been able to attend many assemblies?”
How could he stand there and pretend he hadn’t been with another lady? Well, Mattie wasn’t his lady so that point was moot. She knew she needed to accept that he didn’t love her, but doing so was so painful. It meant giving up a big piece of her heart.
Giving him up would be so much easier if she didn’t have to see him.
Markham cleared his throat. “I won’t keep you. Good day.”
He left so abruptly, she knew he understood. He needed to stay away.
Chapter Nine
On Thursday, Markham was playing cards, but not at Lord Adam’s party. Instead, he sat opposite Sir Rollo at Shipley’s Club, Thorn at his side. They’d ascertained his routine of changing clubs every few days, which likely helped him hide his cheating.
Markham hadn’t heard of any other sap being bled dry, but stealing smaller amounts didn’t lessen the crime.
As usual, when they arrived, Sir Rollo was banker. The unnamed man who always played at his table was most likely the partner in the scheme. If no one pontooned and took over the bank during the game, the partner would buy the bank and take over as dealer.
Markham had determined Sir Rollo would pocket coins every hand or two, the main form of shorting the bank. When the partner bought the bank, Sir Rollo had an excuse, if challenged, to say any missing money was someone else’s fault. It also freed him to count cards and win a majority of the hands.
By alternating that way, his actions were less noticeable to anyone not paying close attention.
Markham and Thorn were paying close attention.
Conversation was nil, everyone focused on their cards, and what the other players had been dealt. Markham counted cards as he assumed the partner was, hoping someone would pontoon and take the bet. At that point, Markham would have calculated what was in the bank. At some point, the bank would return to Sir Rollo, and Markham could add new plays into the total and know how much should be in the bank. Then he or Thorn could buy the bank, count it covertly, and accuse Sir Rollo outright.
Assuming the cards fell their way. The first two hands went to the dealer, adding to the bank. Thorn won the next, and so the play went.
After two hours, no one but Sir Rollo had been dealt a pontoon, so he remained the banker. Markham couldn’t buy the bank at that point, because he couldn’t guarantee It would end up with Sir Rollo again that night.
In the wee hours, when Markham wished he was home in bed, the bank changed hands to another player. At least, he could count along with the new banker to discover the amount there, and hope it ended up with Sir Rollo again after not too long.
Another dozen hands were played, and Sir Rollo got a pontoon and received the bank again. Markham sighed in relief. Once Sir Rollo had a chance to pocket some coins, Markham could buy the bank and prove the cheating once and for all.
But it had to be three in the morning already.
He stifled a yawn and focused on Sir Rollo’s hands as he dealt, and once he dealt a card from the bottom of the deck and gave it to his partner. No one said anything, but how could he believe no one would notice the ten of spades being dealt so soon after it was played, and the deck hadn’t been shuffled? The partner ended up with twenty points and was paid for equaling the dealer’s hand, but no one else had that many points.
The other players looked as tired as he was. Red eyes, drooping posture, and slower play told Markham they weren’t as sharp as earlier in the night.
Thorn must have noticed the same thing, for he nodded when he met Markham’s gaze. Knowing Sir Rollo would have noticed, too, he adjusted himself in his chair to wake up. Any cheating would likely increase now.
And it did. Dealer’s hand won most often, so the bets went into the bank, which was a sloppy pile as usual. When it appeared Sir Rollo pocketed another coin or two, Markham made his move.
“I want to buy the bank,” he said.
Sir Rollo shrugged. “I was about to call it a night, so I’m happy to sell.”
“It’s still early. Stay a while longer.” Markham paid Sir Rollo for the bank, which he slid across the table and began to stack. As he suspected, it was short by two guineas, ten shillings. He glared at Sir Rollo. “There’s some money missing.”
“I must have overpaid a win.” Sir Rollo looked at the other players, not an ounce of concern on his face. “Someone got lucky.”
“Two guineas lucky? My winnings
are correct, how about you, Thorn?”
Since his coins were stacked, he knew at a glance. “Mine are accurate.”
“Isn’t it odd that neither of us benefitted from your clumsy dealing?”
“You’re accusing me of cheating?” Sir Rollo’s voice rose, drawing the attention of anyone in the room still alert enough to notice.
“I am.”
“That’s outrageous! I won’t stand for having my name blackened. Apologize, now.”
“I never apologize when I’m in the right.” Markham didn’t yell, but made certain others could hear.
“You will meet me in two hours in Epperly Green.”
“I’ll be there.” Markham rose and Thorn followed him out of the club.
“How far will you take it?” Thorn asked.
“I’m assuming the slur to his name is enough to send the man running. He’ll be blackballed from his clubs once word spreads…I’m guessing by this evening he won’t be able to gamble anywhere but the hells. At least there he can’t cheat unsuspecting gentlemen.”
“Will you meet him in the park?”
“Of course. I’ll go home, drink some coffee, take my gun and be there a bit early.”
“I’ll come, too.”
They parted ways as the sun rose, and Markham wished he was going home to sleep. That would come soon enough.
Chapter Ten
Mattie woke to voices coming from the ground floor of Mary Jane and Lord Adam’s home. Charlotte had gone to the country to nurse her aunt, and Mary Jane offered to let Mattie stay with them, most likely so she could continue her matchmaking efforts.
It was barely light, much too early for callers, so something serious must be wrong. Donning her robe, she hurried to the staircase and peered down. Thorn and Lord Adam argued in the entry hall, their voices bouncing of the marble floors and pale walls.
“You’ve got to stop him,” Lord Adam said. “The accusation was made and that should put a stop to the cheating.”
“That’s what I told him, but he thinks he’d be dishonorable if he doesn’t appear.” Thorn clenched his hair with both hands. “That man is too stubborn by half. I don’t know how to stop him.”
Who were they discussing, and where did they not want him to go?
“I plan to be there, just in case Sir Rollo shows up.”
Lord Adam tightened the belt on his robe. “I’ll come, too. Let me dress.”
Mattie turned to return to her room before Lord Adam discovered her eavesdropping, and froze at what she heard next.
“I’ll kill Markham for this, if Sir Rollo doesn’t do so first. He should never have agreed to a duel!” Thorn muttered something more, then, “I’ll have a drink while you dress.”
A duel? A duel! Mattie’s knees when weak and her hands began to shake. She rushed to her room and pulled on the first gown she saw. Twisting her hair on top of her head, she stabbed enough pins in to keep it there.
Where was the duel to take place? The likelihood that the men would let her come along was nil. She prayed it was close enough she could walk—or run—there.
She heard Lord Adam descend the stairs a short time later and ran to the stairwell.
“I called for your carriage,” Thorn said.
“Where are we going?”
“Epperly Green.”
Mattie had no idea where that was. She went back to her room for her reticule and made certain she had enough money for a hack, if she could find one at that hour. Surely one would have taken home a late-night reveler in the neighborhood.
She slipped out the door without seeing any of the servants, and Mary Jane must still have slept, thank goodness. Turning in the direction of the center of Town, she walked two blocks before hailing a hack.
“Epperly Green,” she told him as he helped her board.
Wishing you could tell him to hurry, she kept her face against the window, looking for sign of Lord Adam’s or Markham’s carriage.
The park was on the edge of the city. Mattie’s heart raced, the beats becoming louder and more distracting the longer she rode. When the carriage halted, she leaped out and paid the coachman.
Now to find that foolish man, Markham.
She entered the parkland, staying close to a line of trees to not be seen.
Then a shot rang out.
Her heart stopped.
Lifting her skirts, she ran in the direction of the sound. Tears began to fall and her throat burned, but she kept from calling out. If Markham and the others weren’t there, if someone else was shooting, she didn’t want to be discovered.
Breaking through another copse of trees, she saw Markham standing opposite another man. Which man had already shot? She must stop this before he was killed.
“Markham, no!”
He turned in her direction as the other man shot. Before she could reach him, Thorn grabbed her and held her back. She struggled, pounding on his arms, needed to break free.
“Lady Matilda, stop! He’s all right. You can’t go to him until the matter is settled.”
“I heard two shots. They only get one each. It’s done.”
“No more shots, you’re correct. No one was hit, so now they must agree the matter is settled. A gentleman’s agreement not to renew the argument in the future.”
Slumping back against Thorn, Mattie’s entire body shook. She wouldn’t believe Markham was unhurt until she saw it for herself.
“Calm down, I promise you he’s all right,” Thorn said gently.
As her tears dried, she noticed two other men joining the duelers, one being Lord Adam, the other a stranger. They spoke for a short time, then Markham and the man who’d watched from the side shook hands.
Finally, Markham approached.
Mattie pushed Thorn’s arms open and ran to her man. She wouldn’t accept anything else but his acknowledgement he was her man. And she was his only woman.
Markham trotted up and caught her in his arms, hugging her tightly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came for you. I was afraid for you.”
He pressed her head to his heart. “What am I going to do with you? It’s useless to remind you of the danger you faced—”
“I faced? That man pointed a gun at you!”
“He was so tired, he couldn’t have shot an elephant at three feet.”
Thorn and Lord Adam joined them. Thorn clapped Markham’s arm. “I knew you’d be uninjured, just as I knew Sir Rollo would have someone stand in for him.”
“The same poor fool who aided him in cheating. Maybe I should have called him out, too.” Markham’s grip on her loosened and he stepped back, catching Mattie’s gaze. “Now, what are we going to do with you? Does Mary Jane know where you are?”
Mattie shook her head. “I’m hoping she still sleeps, but I don’t know how that’s possible. Those two were arguing loudly,” she added, nodding at the brothers.
“I’ll take Lady Matilda home,” Lord Adam said. “If she’s with me, it will reduce some of Mary Jane’s questions.”
She didn’t want to leave Markham, though. “Won’t you come, too?”
“It won’t look proper. Let me go home, sleep a few hours, and I’ll come to you.”
“All right.” She wanted to argue, being afraid to let him out of her sight, but she knew she wouldn’t win.
“I’ll escort you to the carriage.” Markham held her hand as they walked, but she was uncertain if it was for her comfort or his own. Regardless, she enjoyed every bit of the warmth and comfort his hand offered.
***
Markham feel asleep almost the instant he lay down, even though he thought the excitement would keep him awake for days. The relief at having fulfilled his promise to Ringley was most likely the cause.
After he woke and dressed, he went to see Mattie. Since she’d barely spoke to him the last time he saw her, he couldn’t be more shocked by her appearance at the park. He still needed to explain his relationship with Georgie, and convince her she could trust him wi
th her heart.
Trust him the rest of her life, hopefully, as his wife.
When he reached Lord Adam’s home, he found Mattie sitting with Mary Jane in the morning room. Mary Jane greeted him and said, “Why don’t I call for tea.” She left the room.
“Good afternoon,” Markham said.
Mattie didn’t look up.
“Are we back to this? After your appearance in the park, I was certain we’d gotten past whatever upset you.” He remained standing a few feet from her.
Her head snapped up and her eyes shot darts at him. “Whatever upset me? Are you truly that blind?”
“Apparently I am.”
“Who was that woman? She appeared to be a very close friend.”
What woman? Then it dawned on him, having seen Mattie when he and Georgie left the theatre. “That’s a long story. You’ve heard part of it already. You recall what I told you of Lady Susan?”
“Yes, the woman you didn’t marry.”
Markham paced to the fireplace, overwhelmingly awkward at having to speak to Mattie of things like he was about to. “Yes, well. When I learned she rejected me, I behaved foolishly, but not unreasonably for a youth of eighteen.”
He strolled to the window and looked out on the street. “I got drunk—stupidly drunk. And then I thought to prove myself desirable by going to a bawdy house.”
Waiting to hear her gasp or outcry, he was relieved when she asked, “That’s it? You…were entertained by this woman and are so grateful you took her to the opera some dozen years later to thank her?”
He chuckled. “Not exactly. Georgie ran the house. When she saw how drunk I was, she took pity on me and took me to her room.” He raised a hand. “No, I’m not going to shock you with some indecent act. I passed out after crying out my pain. Yes, I paid Georgie to let me cry.”
That was the part he’d never admitted, the crying. No one should know how weak he was, nor how drunk.”
“And still, you were out with her after so many years.”
“She’s the reason I’m called a miscreant. I’ve frequented her house, and have enjoyed her company in Town many nights. But I’ve never slept with her.”