Joanna Maitland

by Rakes Reward

‘You will understand, ma’am, I am sure,’ he said silkily, ‘if I choose to take charge of shuffling this pack myself.’

  They had been playing, in total silence, for nearly half an hour. Marina had lost almost every hand. Her discards had been weak and her card play even weaker. It was pitiful to watch.

  But Kit was still furious with her. He feared that if she spoke a word to him, he would lose his temper. It was barely under control, as it was. More than anything, he wanted to take her in his arms and shake the life out of her. Set a cheat to catch a cheat. What on earth had possessed her to do something so foolhardy?

  He gritted his teeth and led another card. She failed to follow suit. It was the last straw. ‘If you wish to play piquet,’ he snarled, ‘you should learn the rules. You are required to play a club, if you hold one. And I am perfectly well aware that you do.’

  Her hand trembled. She looked up at him with those huge eyes. They were full of guilt.

  His anger vanished instantly.

  ‘Marina,’ he said softly, ‘I should like to beat you. How could you do such a thing? You—’

  She threw down the remainder of her cards. ‘What I do, sir, is my concern alone. And since I am such an unworthy opponent for you, I will not trouble you further. How much do I owe?’

  Her guilt had been replaced by indignation. She obviously thought he deplored what she had done. He did, of course, but only because of the risks she had been taking. He wanted to protect her, but every time he tried to get near her, she bristled like a porcupine.

  ‘You owe me nothing,’ he replied. Then, almost as an afterthought, he said, ‘We failed to agree any stakes at the outset. However, since you have conceded defeat, I ought, I suppose, to exact a forfeit of some kind. Will you allow me to take you driving tomorrow?’

  ‘No.’ The word was quietly spoken, but it was final.

  ‘Why not?’

  She almost squirmed in her chair. She was clearly surprised by his question. Did she think he would take a dismissal so easily?

  She clasped her hands on the table and fixed her gaze on them. ‘You forget my position, sir. I am a companion, a servant. I know my place—and it is not in a gentleman’s carriage.’ She rose from her chair and walked calmly out of the room. Even in defeat, she still held herself like a duchess.

  No, Kit thought, your place is not in my carriage. It is in my bed. And that is where you are going to be, my sweet Marina, even if I have to abduct you into it.

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘I thought I heard a carriage half an hour ago. Who was it?’

  ‘It was Lady Stratton’s carriage, ma’am,’ said Marina, avoiding the Dowager’s eye.

  ‘Would she not step inside?’

  ‘She…she was not in the carriage, ma’am.’

  The Dowager said nothing. She simply stared at Marina and waited.

  ‘She… I… She sent a message, inviting me to call on her at Fitzwilliam House. I declined.’

  ‘What? Why on earth—?’

  ‘Ma’am, I cannot become intimate with Lady Stratton. She is a great lady—as you are—and I am a nobody.’

  ‘I should have thought,’ retorted the Dowager, ‘that, after last night’s escapade, Lady Stratton would be extremely grateful to you.’

  ‘But she does not know—’

  ‘And you are certainly not a nobody. You are a Blaine.’ She stopped short and gave vent to something that was almost a giggle. ‘Then again, perhaps not,’ she added ruefully. ‘It might be unwise to make too much of your links to that family. The rumour mills are already working. Lady Blaine may have spoken of her “true friends” but they seem to be deserting her in droves.’ She chortled. ‘And I understand that another edition of that nasty little scandal sheet is in preparation.’

  ‘But how can that be? There has not been time—’

  ‘There is always time, Marina, if one makes it one’s business to use it.’

  It was worse and worse. The whole episode would soon be all over London. And it seemed that the Dowager was conspiring to make that happen. Marina really must escape from it all. She could not bear it any longer. Kit had been saved, but at the cost of Marina’s peace of mind. She yearned for him, but she knew she must never set eyes on him again. He would now remain in London—its foremost rake—and so she must leave.

  The butler entered. ‘Lady Stratton is below in her carriage, m’lady. She presents her compliments, and asks if Miss Beaumont may be permitted to accompany her on her drive this afternoon.’

  ‘No,’ breathed Marina.

  ‘Of course,’ declared Lady Luce roundly. ‘Fetch your bonnet and pelisse, Marina. And be quick about it. Her ladyship will not wish to keep her horses standing.’

  ‘You look pale, my dear. Are you quite well?’

  ‘A…a little tired, ma’am, that is all,’ Marina lied. ‘Her ladyship’s card party finished very late.’

  ‘And you, of course, were required to stay until all the guests had left. The role of a companion is not an easy one. And I doubt that Lady Luce is an easy mistress.’

  ‘No, ma’am, you are wrong!’ protested Marina. ‘The Dowager has been immensely kind to me…and…and…’

  Lady Stratton patted Marina’s hand. ‘Forgive me for speaking out of turn. It was wrong of me. Especially as her ladyship has been so generous in sparing you to me. What made her change her mind this afternoon?’

  Oh, dear. Now what could Marina say? ‘It…it was not Lady Luce who declined your invitation earlier, ma’am. I…I thought she would need me and so I took it upon myself to—’

  ‘Very commendable, my dear. But you are here now. And is it not a beautiful day for a drive in the park?’

  Marina nodded gratefully.

  ‘I must tell you,’ continued Lady Stratton, lowering her voice, ‘that last night’s scandal has done us a very good turn. Kit had engaged himself to Lady Blaine’s eldest daughter—not with the blessing of his family, I may add—but there can be no question of a marriage now. Not with that family. No one will receive them in future, and— But you must know all this. Is not Lord Luce godfather to Miss Blaine?’

  Marina was forced to admit that it was so.

  ‘Then you must be aware of the methods that Lord Luce employed to entrap Kit. I have a great deal of respect for the Dowager, Miss Beaumont, but I find it very difficult to think well of her son. He has not behaved like a gentleman.’

  There was nothing Marina could say. Everything Lady Stratton said was true.

  ‘Hugo tells me that the Blaines will be going abroad as soon as the Viscount returns. It will be something of a shock to him, I expect.’

  A wave of guilt hit Marina. She had never once considered the Viscount in all this. She had cared only for Kit. She was wicked, thoroughly wicked.

  ‘I cannot say that it worries me overmuch,’ continued Lady Stratton. ‘Lord Blaine is a reprobate—just like his father was. His fortune stems from his sugar plantations, and it seems he don’t much care what he does to increase it. Some of the tales I have heard are…upsetting. Kit thinks— But you are not interested in listening to my ramblings. Tell me, did you enjoy the party last night? After the Faro ended, I mean.’

  ‘I…I hardly remember, ma’am. It was all so unsettling. If I had not mentioned the missing card—’

  ‘If you had not mentioned your missing card, Lady Blaine would not have been unmasked for the cheat she undoubtedly is, and I should still be contemplating the nightmare of having Tilly Blaine for a sister. You will never know how grateful I am to you.’

  Marina felt herself blushing.

  ‘It seems that Tilly Blaine is the only member of that family who views it all with equanimity. She, apparently, is so delighted at the prospect of travelling in Europe that she is quite unmoved by her mother’s disgrace. Strange girl. Her head is so stuffed with poetry that there is no room for common sense.’

  It was quite late by the time Marina returned to the Dowager’s house. She would have to hurry to change
for dinner. Lady Luce frowned on a lack of punctuality.

  Marina threw off her day gown and began to splash water on her face. There was no time to do more. Her hair… Oh, dear, her hair was beginning to come out of its pins. She would have to—

  ‘May I help, Miss Marina?’ The Dowager’s maid had come in without a sound.

  ‘Gibson,’ said Marina thankfully. The old abigail was always wonderfully deft with hairpins. ‘How thoughtful of you. I am desperately late, I fear. Do you think you could help me with my hair?’

  ‘Not to worry, miss. Her ladyship said as I was to help you, since you had been delayed with Lady Stratton. Sit down here. It won’t take but a moment.’

  Marina did as she was bid and watched, entranced, as Gibson turned her dishevelled locks into a smoothly elegant style. ‘Gibson, you are a marvel,’ she said, and meant it.

  The abigail coloured a little. ‘That’s enough of your nonsense, miss. Come, let us find you an evening gown. What about the green silk?’

  ‘Well… Have you any idea, Gibson, what her ladyship’s plans are for this evening? Are we going out?’

  ‘I believe so, miss. Her ladyship did not say precisely, but she is wearing one of her fine gowns.’

  ‘In that case, it had better be the green silk,’ agreed Marina. ‘And the matching slippers, too.’

  By the time the dinner gong sounded, Marina was walking sedately down the stairs as if she had all the time in the world.

  The Dowager, however, was not deceived. She looked Marina up and down. Then she gave a nod of approval. ‘I must say that that gown is particularly becoming,’ she said. ‘It is perhaps a little low-cut, but at least it is not as flimsy as some of the gowns the gels are wearing nowadays.’ She led the way into the dining room and took her seat. ‘Pity that you will not have a chance tonight to display how well you look.’

  Oh. It seemed that she was not to go out after all. Marina felt a pang of disappointment for which she was soon reproaching herself. What right had she to expect evening engagements?

  ‘I am going to a card party. Alone,’ said the Dowager flatly. ‘After last night’s performance, you would attract far too much attention.’

  Marina had to admit that Lady Luce was right.

  The Dowager then proceeded to talk incessantly throughout dinner. Marina found she was grateful, for she was not in the mood for conversation. Her mind kept reverting to images of Kit Stratton, no matter how hard she tried to banish them. He was not to marry Tilly Blaine after all. He—

  It was not her business. Kit Stratton was nothing to do with Marina. Not any more. Her thoughtless actions had given rise to a great deal of grief but, thanks to the card playing skills her father had taught her—and a lot of luck—she had succeeded in undoing the harm she had caused. To Kit, at least. As for the Blaines… She must learn to live with what she had done there. Lady Stratton’s artless revelations in the carriage suggested that the family’s downfall was well merited. It even sounded as if Tilly had recovered from her passion for Kit. Remarkably quickly, too. Perhaps she would fall in love with an Italian poet…

  ‘If you are ready, Marina…’ The Dowager had risen, ready to leave the dining table.

  Marina sprang to her feet. ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. I’m afraid I was wool-gathering.’

  ‘Hmph,’ snorted the Dowager, leading the way up to her drawing room.

  ‘Excuse me, m’lady. A note has just arrived for you.’

  Lady Luce did not respond to the butler until she had reached the landing. ‘Bring it up here, man,’ she said sharply. ‘Can’t read it at that distance.’

  Marina tried not to laugh. The Dowager was on top form again.

  The note was from Lady Marchant. And it produced a crack of laughter from the Dowager.

  ‘Oh, don’t look so downcast, Marina. This is priceless. I promise you will enjoy it.’ She sat down in her usual chair and glanced towards the decanter.

  Marina had long ago learned to recognise the signals. She filled a glass and placed it on the table by the Dowager’s hand. Then she took her usual seat on the low stool alongside.

  ‘Very good, my dear, very good.’ She spread Lady Marchant’s note and raised her lorgnette to read it again. ‘Yes, excellent. It seems that young Kit Stratton will not be the handsomest rake in London for much longer.’

  ‘He is going abroad, too?’ Marina was more than a little surprised. Lady Stratton had mentioned nothing of the kind.

  ‘Oh, no. Nothing so simple.’ She raised her glass and sipped slowly, smiling with pleasure. ‘I may have forgiven you, child, for interfering in my debt to young Stratton, but I have certainly not forgiven him for his impudence when he returned my vowel. Arrogant young puppy….’ She frowned at Marina. ‘After the way he treated you, I should imagine you will be pleased to see him brought down a peg or two.’

  There was an iron band around Marina’s heart. With every word the Dowager spoke, it was tightening, until she could hardly breathe. ‘What…what do you mean, ma’am?’ she whispered hoarsely.

  ‘Why, the cuckold’s revenge, of course. It appears that the Baroness’s husband does not take kindly to being made to look a fool. He has arranged—with the willing help of Méchante, I have no doubt—to change Kit’s pretty face a little.’

  Horror, and outrage, gave Marina back all her strength. She jumped to her feet. ‘You must stop him!’ she cried.

  ‘Why? No one is going to murder young Stratton. Not in Green Park. I dare say it will be just a discreet little mill…a few cuts and bruises, nothing more. Kit will soon mend.’

  ‘But, ma’am, you cannot—’

  ‘Stop fussing over nothing, Marina. You are too soft-hearted by half.’ She rose and swept out.

  Marina was left alone. She could call on no one but herself. There was no time to change, or to send a message, for the attack might take place at any moment. In any case, she had no idea where to find Kit.

  Except in Green Park.

  ‘You are not going alone, Kit.’

  Kit raised a weary eyebrow. Hugo was in one of his stubborn, elder-brother moods.

  ‘You accept that?’

  ‘Yes, since you insist.’

  ‘Good,’ said Hugo. ‘Now, this could be a clandestine meeting with your Baroness, as she suggested, though I doubt it. Since she insisted that you go alone, I shall be your…coachman.’

  Kit gave a crack of laughter.

  Hugo laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. ‘I’ll have you know, brother, that I can tool a carriage as well as you can…and better than my coachman, too. No one will give me a second look, especially if I wear a plain dark coat.’

  Kit nodded. Hugo was right, of course. ‘I shall wear the same,’ he said. ‘No point in offering a target for the Baron’s pistol, if that is what he has in mind. You think he will try to shoot me, do you not, Hugo?’

  ‘It’s possible. We need to be prepared.’ He paused. ‘Unless you are willing to forget this appointment altogether? We could always go to the club, you know.’

  ‘You know that is impossible, Hugo. We need to find out what is afoot. If I do not go on this occasion, they are bound to create another chance to attack me. Next time, I might not be forewarned. And I might not have my stalwart coachman to defend me!’

  Hugo shook his head, laughing. ‘Your coachman—with his pistol—will call to collect you in an hour. Go and find yourself a coat, brother. And make sure it is fit to be seen. If I am to bear your body home, I must have it elegantly clad.’

  In the dusk, the shadows played tricks. Green Park seemed to be alive with movement, but it might have been nothing more than the wind among the leaves.

  By the time Hugo had climbed down from the box, Kit had already found an urchin who would mind the horses for the promise of a shilling. At least one of them would return to pay the lad, surely?

  ‘Couldn’t see any movement,’ Hugo said quietly, ‘even from up there. If they’re here, they must be well concealed. You have your pistol?
’

  Kit patted his pocket. ‘And my cane. Katharina’s note said that I must walk along the shrubbery path. She would come to meet me when she was sure I was alone.’

  ‘Did she say which entrance you should take?’

  ‘No. Why?’

  ‘Because it gives us an advantage. You will start walking from this end. I will start from the other. They will not know which of us is Kit.’

  ‘No, Hugo. This is my fight. I will not put you in the line of the Baron’s bullet. I will go in alone. You may come to my aid if I need you. No doubt, you’ll know soon enough.’

  Hugo looked unconvinced.

  ‘I mean it, Hugo,’ Kit said grimly. ‘I need to be able to give you back to Emma in one piece.’

  Hugo frowned. ‘At least, give me time to get to the far end. If I make my way into the shrubbery, I ought to be able to get to you the sooner.’

  Kit recognised the sense in his brother’s proposal, but still he hesitated. If anything happened to Hugo, there would be a widow and three fatherless children. Whereas he, Kit, had no one waiting for him. For Marina had rejected him.

  ‘Kit? What do you say? You cannot object to that, surely?’

  ‘Oh, very well. If you must. I will give you two minutes, and then I shall start along this path.’ He held out his hand. ‘God save you, Hugo.’

  Hugo clasped Kit’s hand firmly with one of his own and laid the other on Kit’s shoulder. ‘We have the advantage of surprise, Kit. Wellington would be proud of us. God bless you.’

  He disappeared in the direction of the coach and the distant entrance to the shrubbery. Kit watched, counting the seconds. At the end of the agreed two minutes, he put his hand into his pocket, gripped his pistol and started along the gloomy path, swinging his cane.

  Hugo had absolutely no intention of hiding in the shrubbery, waiting for Kit to be attacked, perhaps killed. Hat in hand, he raced along to the far end of the park, where the path met the roadway. There he paused to catch his breath, and to put on his hat once more, at exactly the kind of rakish angle Kit always used.