by Susan Lodge
She found herself thinking the unthinkable. No! She could not gamble with her mother’s silver locket. It was the one item she treasured and always carried with her.
She took it from her waistcoat pocket where she had tucked it that morning. She usually wore it around her neck but the clasp had become faulty. She looked at it fleetingly, her heart battling against her head. Her mind made up, she was about to drop it back into her pocket when Wainwright leaned over and grasped it from her.
“This would be something for your sweetheart, I wager.”
“Yes, it is.” Hetty lunged to snatch it back. “I would not part with it.”
Wainwright chuckled. “Come now, I thought you were a gambler, not a sentimental sot. Besides, your debt needs paying.”
Hetty was unable to say anything. She had to concentrate hard to keep calm and retain her cover. She looked around the room, trying to formulate a plan. Her eyes rested on Fetherington, who had moved away to the hazard table. He was a gentleman of considerable means and might be willing to make her a loan.
Her head spun as she tried to bargain with Wainwright. “One more game – all or nothing. If you would just give me a little time I am sure I could find some more funds. I give you my word as a gentleman that I will return in half an hour.”
Wainwright's eyebrows rose in surprise, and she heard his companion mutter an oath.
“Just get the money and pay your debts, boy,” Wainwright replied. “And know when you are beaten. You have half an hour.”
***
Hetty discovered that Sir Sidney Fetherington was not quite as friendly and jovial when her pockets were empty. He had listened to her polite request for a loan and informed her that he was unable to help. In fact, he had given her a rather pitying look and suddenly developed a headache and the pressing need to go and rest in his room.
Sitting in the corner of the back room of the inn, she realised her time was nearly up. Wainwright and his colleague had left the card tables but she had no doubt they would return at any moment. Her insides knotted with fear as she considered her options. There really was only one solution – she had to flee.
Her word had been given as a gentleman so, she reasoned, as she was a woman it really did not count. Slipping from the room, she made her way to the stairs to collect her valise. The rain still hammered down so there would be no chance of a coach leaving. It was madness to travel on foot, but she had no choice.
“Brought our winnings, then?”
A streak of afternoon sunlight bounced off the metal-rimmed glasses of Wainwright’s companion as he blocked her way at the bottom of the stairs. The man, despite his advanced years, looked menacing, and the anger that laced his words sent a chill through her bones. Hetty fought for composure and looked around, wondering where Wainwright had gone. On the whole, unpleasant as he was, he was not quite so threatening as his friend here. She took a deep breath.
“There’s a slight problem with securing the loan, but if you will just take my note and let me have one last⏤”
“No!” he roared. “Your time is up.”
Hetty trembled as he grasped her arm and forced her up the stairs. Seconds later, she found herself in her room and the door closed behind them.
“Your boots and coat are worth something,” he snapped as he pushed her toward the bed.
Hetty was shocked. “But surely⏤”
“Now!”
She sat and pulled off her boots.
“The coat next.”
Hetty stared at him in horror. “Surely, you will let me keep my coat, sir.”
He took a step toward her, and she quickly slipped off her topcoat and handed it to him. Her hands shook and her eyes pleaded.
The man stared down at her for the longest minute Hetty had ever experienced. Then he took off his hat and tossed it aside, revealing a grey wig, a little like the ones her father’s physician wore. Mesmerised by a strange seed of recognition, she watched as he took off his coat and the thick padding underneath.
He straightened and he no longer had the physique of an elderly man. The wig, the eyebrows, the whiskers, and finally the thick-rimmed spectacles were discarded. Green eyes blazed at her, and Hetty swallowed, overcome with relief, shame, and fear all at once.
A familiar voice reached her. “Hetty, look at yourself, look how far you have fallen. You have gambled away your money, your pride, and your mother’s locket.”
It took a while for the relief and shame to turn to anger then red, raw rage. Her fingers balled into tight fists, and she struggled to keep them by her side.
“You tricked me! You and that charlatan…that thief! I knew those cards were marked. I would have never believed you could treat me in such a despicable way.”
She paced around the room, needing to vent her anger with some physical activity. Robert watched her with a look that made her feel like a disobedient child. With an enormous effort, she stifled the desire to strike him and steadied her voice.
“So, Doctor Withington, you seem to have taken a lot of trouble to make me poor and helpless and in your debt. Why do you want me that way?”
“The way I want you is in one piece. Not shamed or degraded, with your throat cut or a bullet through your brain. I had to make you see the dangers of the card tables. You were not going to learn any other way. I have already lost loved ones from the consequences of gambling, and I do not intend to lose you in the same way.”
She glared up at him. “The danger was you. I was fine before you engaged someone to rig the game, someone to cheat me.”
“No, Hetty. It was easy enough for me to find someone to beat you. You were just lucky you hadn’t met the likes of Wainwright before. There are many others like him.” He turned to the door. “I am going to see Wainwright. You do not move from this room. I want your word on it – as a lady this time. I have taken the room next door and informed the landlord that you are my errant nephew, thereby covering your rather stupid disguise.”
“My disguise wasn’t stupid. It was perfectly all right until you interfered.” She felt her voice break. The strain of the last few hours was catching up with her. “I will stay here. There really is nowhere else for me to go until the weather improves.”
She sat down wearily on the bed, wanting nothing more than to hide under the covers and stay there – possibly forever.
After Robert left the room, she wandered over to the door that led to a small balcony and stepped outside to take a few steadying breaths of air. The torrential rain had stopped for a moment, but the clouds still swirled in dull shades of grey.
She felt miserable at the loss of her money. But much worse was the shame of gambling away her most treasured possession – her mother’s locket.
She walked to the corner of the balcony and leaned over, watching the activity at the front of the inn. As the rain started again, she turned to go back when she caught sight of the man called Wainwright. Hetty scowled in disgust as she watched him walk across the forecourt, talking to Robert.
With great restraint, she refrained from picking up the nearby plant pot and hurling it at them. Instead, she stomped back in the room and slammed the door so hard the whole building seemed to groan.
A few minutes later, the rain increased to a thunderstorm, but it didn’t hide the commotion on the landing outside her room. A few pitched squeals of feminine indignation, followed by a tirade of reprimand, made her shove her clothes back on and poke her head out to investigate the disturbance.
The landlord stood scratching his head, looking like he had the woes of the world on his shoulders. “I’m sorry, ma’am. All the rooms are taken. There is nothing left. I can’t help you.”
The woman, obviously determined to find somewhere to lay her rather large body, pushed her maid aside to handle the matter. Seeing Hetty, she stopped and turned her battle-filled eyes to a new target.
“You there, young man! Surely you would give up your room. A gentleman like yourself could not possibly permit a lady t
o pass the night in this inn without the comfort of a bed.”
Hetty remembered Robert’s words about not leaving the room and shook her head. “Sorry, but that is not possible.”
The woman grew in height at least five inches, and Hetty realised why the poor landlord looked as if he had been pecked by half a dozen hens. She exchanged looks with him, and the plea in the man’s eyes drove her to action.
“My uncle has the room next door. I am sure he would not mind giving it up. It would be far more comfortable than mine.”
She gave a little smile at her clever plan. She would not break her word by vacating her room – she would vacate his for him.
The landlord grasped her hand and shook it vigorously. “Thank you, young sir. I will reimburse you for your uncle’s room, as you will be sharing with him tonight.”
He pressed some coins into Hetty’s hand and stepped back as Robert’s things were quickly collected and deposited in her room. Hetty began to protest as her plan had suddenly gone horribly wrong, but she couldn’t for the life of her put together a reason why they shouldn’t share without causing suspicion. She pocketed the money, feeling a little better at having a small amount of funds again.
After they had retreated, she wondered what to do next. She certainly couldn’t share a room with him. Her skin prickled with heat. That would be entirely inappropriate. Despite the fact she was masquerading as his nephew, she could not possibly spend the night in the same room with the man.
She scooped up his bag and threw it into the hallway. Then she closed the door, locked it, and pushed a chest of drawers across it. Smiling at her revenge, she finally stripped off her shirt and breeches, pulled on a nightshirt, and settled down on the soft mattress.
Doctor Withington could go to hell! Let him taste a little of the discomfort he had put her through earlier. He could sleep in the stables with the other beasts.
The arrogance of the man! She didn’t need his pity or his interference. She didn’t need anyone. He had frightened the life out of her – but he had come to her. He had cared enough to find her.
She pushed the treacherous thought aside. After all, she would have plenty of funds by now if he hadn’t turned up and cheated her out of last night’s winnings.
Blowing out the candle beside her bed, she stared at the ceiling, mulling over the events of the evening. She knew the contempt the doctor had for gambling, and she had to admit he had gone to a lot of effort to convince her of the perils. Why did he care so much? She had set him free. Why didn’t he just go and claim his perfect Rose?
She pulled the pillow over her head in an attempt to blot out both the world and her confusion.
Chapter Twenty
Hetty was roused from her sleep by the slight, but frightening, sound of the balcony door opening and closing.
She sat up with a jerk, cursing the fact that she had not turned the key in the lock. She had been so preoccupied securing the hall door that she had completely forgotten the balcony. She recognised the familiar figure of Robert silhouetted in the moonlight, and relief flooded her that it was not a burglar. She watched him light the candle on the fireplace and walk toward her.
Relief turned to indignation and she hastily pulled the bedclothes up under her chin.
“How dare you break into my room!”
As he stopped beside her bed, she noticed his coat glistened with rain and a few stray leaves were perched on his broad shoulders.
“Hetty, thank goodness you are here.”
“Of course I am here,” she replied impatiently. “But you should certainly not be. Leave at once.”
His expression changed. There was a glint of battle in the green eyes, now mixed with something else that made Hetty sweat all over.
“I understand from the landlord that the accommodation has been rearranged. I believe I am to share with you, nephew.”
Whap! Robert flinched as Hetty slapped him on the cheek.
“Get out!” She pointed to the door.
Robert gave her a long look of reproof then turned and went to sit in the armchair in the corner of the room. Stretching out his legs, he rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers.
“Hetty, I was quite prepared to sleep in my own bed, but you seem to have come to the agreement that we share this room – even though I had a rather difficult time entering it via a tree. Now, I intend to sleep, and I suggest you settle down and do the same, as my patience has been sorely tested in the last few hours. Believe me, my actions could deteriorate quite quickly if you don’t quieten down.”
Something in his voice made her review the situation before screaming her protest. Causing a commotion would only reveal her true gender. She lay back on the pillows, seething with anger.
***
Being a cad wasn’t in Robert’s nature. Despite his outward calmness, his emotions were in turmoil. He had been immensely relieved to find her safe in bed.
He had knocked at her door earlier after the landlord had told him about the change in rooms. But when there was no reply, he had begun to worry that she might have run away again, hence the entrance into her room via the tree.
He was not unduly angry that his room had been given up. He would have probably done the same had he been confronted by two ladies in need of shelter. But he was infuriated that she had not responded to his knock on the door.
He had only intended to stay for a few minutes, just to make sure she was all right, and then leave. But the climb up the tree had been wet and painful and, as it turned out, unnecessary. He closed his eyes in weary submission to the comfort of the chair then opened them a second later as she abruptly sat up in bed.
“Why did you think I would not be here in this room?” Her puzzled voice was still hostile.
He stared. In the moonlight she looked like a small, angry warrior. Straight-backed with a cloud of wild curls framing her head.
She looked magnificent.
He took a steadying breath. “When I heard from the landlord about what an obliging nephew I had, I returned to see if you were all right. The inn is overflowing with travellers, and I wondered if you might be forced to give up your own room as well as mine. I could not enter, of course, because the door was blockaded, and when I tapped there was no answer. I could not make too much noise, as it would have looked very odd if my nephew would not let his uncle into their room. It occurred to me you might have run away again. I had to check. When I spied the tree outside the window, I was worried you might have used it to escape. I know how accomplished you are at tree climbing.”
She seemed to relax at his explanation, and when she spoke again, her voice had lost some of its hostile tone.
“I heard nothing; I must have slept through it. If I had heard you, I would have certainly quelled your concern. Not that you need to be concerned about me. After that stunt at the card tables, Doctor, I believe I am safer without your protection.”
He gave a long, weary sigh. “Hetty, you must accept my help. I will arrange for you to stay at Longwood under my protection. We will find you a suitable chaperone, and you can live there until you are old enough to claim your inheritance. Then you will have your independence. What other option have you, other than to reconsider my proposal of marriage?”
“I am sure, Robert, when you return to Longwood you will not want to be encumbered with my presence.”
“You could not be more wrong, Hetty. Despite being a most infuriating woman, I find when you are not around there is something very special missing in my life.”
He heard her catch her breath. He thought it was a good sign, but he had to choose his words carefully. She had to come back with him. He could not bear to think of her roaming about the countryside dressed as a man or woman. She sat very still with her head lowered. When she finally spoke, her tone was soft.
“I accept your offer.”
“Of marriage?” he asked hopefully.
“Of accommodation,” she clarified. “I thank you for
your proposal, but I need some time to consider.”
“Very well. I am relieved that you will consider it. Take as much time as you wish.” Robert walked over to the door and pushed the chest of drawers out of the way. “I will leave you to get some sleep.”
Hetty’s voice shook slightly. “I think, Robert, if you confine yourself to the corner of the room you could stay. It is unlikely you will find anywhere else as comfortable for you to rest. I trust you to act like a gentleman.”
She had sat up in her bed again, looking warm, soft, and lovely.
With a determined sigh, he opened the door. He might be a doctor but he certainly was not a saint.
“It is best I leave. Goodnight, Hetty. I will see you in the morning. Lock the door behind me.”
***
The sun returned in a glorious blaze, mopping up the byways and enabling travellers to resume their journeys.
Hetty and Robert left the inn as uncle and nephew so she could keep up her pretext of being Harry Blake. Over breakfast, Robert told Hetty all about the conversation he had with Henry Avebury and Aunt Amelia before he had arrived at the inn yesterday.
Hetty had turned things over in her mind ever since. So, Stark and Anthony both wanted her just for her money. A knot of despair and anger lodged in her chest. Did no one want her for herself, just plain Hetty Avebury? Of course not. Even Robert’s offer was drawn from duty.
His words had warmed her heart last night, especially the part about something missing in his life when she was not there. After he had left, she had found it impossible to sleep. She had finally forgiven him for the rigged card game. His actions, outrageous as they were, just showed his concern for her safety. She had so nearly accepted his proposal last night, but it just wasn’t going to be that easy.
Somehow Rose, Stark, Anthony, and Sir Henry – she no longer thought of him as a father – would ruin things.
***
From an upstairs window, Anthony Avebury watched Withington and Hetty as the coach left the inn.
Well! Hetty was not the little bore he had thought she was. Masquerading as a man, indeed! And if he had known of her gambling, he could have used it against her a long while ago. Funny that he had missed a trick like that.