Cumberland’s eye caught Annabelle’s glance. His dark visage took on a slightly amused expression.
‘Well, Burnside,’ he said, ‘since ye’re a Redcoat, what d’ye think of being in company with two of America’s choicest blooms? D’ye fancy we can forgive them what the damned rebellious colonists did to the status quo?’
‘I fancy, Your Highness, that neither Lady Caroline nor Miss Howard had much to do with that,’ said Captain Burnside, consuming a sweet water ice.
‘Mere infants at the time, eh?’ Cumberland gazed at Annabelle’s bosom. ‘Babes in arms, d’ye suppose?’
‘And quite without the sin of rebelliousness, sir,’ said the captain with easy affability.
‘Prettily said, Captain,’ smiled Cecilia.
‘We’re all without sin as infants,’ said Caroline, ‘and I declare, Your Highness, that both Annabelle and I continue to be perfect. That is, in the eyes of our loving parents.’
‘I vow I hope I am perfect in everyone’s eyes,’ said Annabelle, ‘for I cannot think I could be sweeter than I am.’
‘Fie to modesty,’ laughed Cecilia, ‘let all we ladies dare every gentleman to say we are not less than beautiful and not less than adorable.’
‘I shall say nothing,’ said the captain, ‘for I accept that.’
‘Oh, you are surely the essence of a gentleman,’ said Annabelle.
‘And what do you say, my love?’ asked Cecilia of her husband.
‘I say, my love, that you are immaculate,’ said Robert.
Cumberland’s smile had the devil’s own gleam of amusement to it. Annabelle, remarking it, shivered deliciously.
Supper over, the company repaired to the room used for cards and other pastimes. Since it was known that Cumberland did not favour after-supper small talk, no hostess dared invite him to dine without the prospect of the rest of the evening spent at a card table. So the three men played vingt-et-un, with the minimum stake a guinea, the maximum fifty guineas, and the three ladies engaged in backgammon at a suitable distance. The light of the low chandeliers, each burning a score of candles, shone on their heads. Caroline’s auburn hair glinted with fire. Annabelle’s fair hair was touched with gold. Cecilia’s hair was a glossy, curl-adorned black crown. Their gowns squarely plunged, and the candlelight shed pearly lustre over gently breathing curves.
Annabelle fidgeted a little, casting covert glances at the men, at the commanding, fine-backed figure of the duke. He had such a dominating presence, although she did not fail to notice that Captain Burnside was so remarkably at ease that he imparted a presence of his own. They were both gentlemen of singular character. Oh dear, how sweetly exciting it was to be an eligible young lady in London, where the men were so cultured and civilized, and no lady made a fuss if one was not engaged at the age of sixteen or seventeen.
Cecilia cast no glances. She made an enjoyment of the backgammon. She made an enjoyment of most pursuits, for she was easy to please. Thirty years old, she had given Caroline comfort and sympathy in the face of all her marital tribulations, and during her widowhood, although in widowhood Caroline frankly needed far less sympathy than when her husband was alive. Cecilia was on very agreeable terms with her own husband, and they understood each other perfectly. Unfortunately, the splendid dowry she had received from her father on marriage was almost gone, mainly due to Robert’s dreadfully bad luck with investments, speculations and cards, poor dear. With three children to bring up and educate, Cecilia might have shown a worried face to the world. So might Robert. But they were both cheerful souls. Neither showed any envy of Caroline’s inheritance. It was a blessing to Cecilia that Robert had earned Cumberland’s patronage, for the duke had put him in the way of better investments, and for no consideration at all other than that of sometimes taking Robert’s place in her bed. One did not talk about that, of course, and Cumberland never would. Robert said it would be sure to earn him further royal favours, perhaps by way of a government appointment that would prove lucrative. Cecilia had said, ‘Oh, I do hope so, my love, for I’d not yield your place in my bed to Cumberland for a single night if he were not intending to continue favouring you.’
Caroline’s friendship with Robert and Cecilia was a warm one, and she was not in the least aware that Cecilia was yet one more woman who enjoyed herself in the arms of the unhandsome but magnetic Cumberland.
Glancing at the men, Caroline was curious to know if Captain Burnside was embarrassing the duke’s pocket. Cumberland’s expression told her nothing. But that dark face, with its twisted scar, rarely expressed anything except mockery or deviousness. He sat upright in his chair, his dark grey coat a severity in its cut and its close fit. Captain Burnside seemed thoughtful but untroubled, and Robert was wearing a faint smile, a sign that he was probably winning. The three of them were speaking only in murmurs. When gentlemen were at cards they did not play loudly.
Cumberland regarded the card Captain Burnside had just dealt him. The ace of hearts. A pretty thing. He announced his bet: fifty guineas. He never showed money itself. He received his second card, the ace of diamonds. A crisp gift. He split both cards, betting fifty guineas on the second. Captain Burnside dealt him a third. Cumberland’s expression remained impassive as he regarded yet another ace. Spades. Fifty guineas went on that too.
Captain Burnside, knowing the duke had three of a high kind, placed a card on each. Cumberland took a look at the first. A king. He turned it up. ‘Vingt-et-un,’ he said. The card on the second ace was a four. He asked for another.
‘Open or closed?’ murmured the captain.
‘Closed, for a further fifty,’ said Cumberland, and received a six. ‘Enough,’ he said, and looked at the card on his third ace. A ten. ‘Vingt-et-un,’ he said again, turning it up.
‘I fancy I’m for it,’ smiled Captain Burnside. The duke had two hands that could only be beaten if he turned up vingt-et-un himself. He looked at Robert. ‘Mr Humphreys?’
‘Oh, show me one,’ said Robert, who held a nine and a three against a bet of five guineas. Captain Burnside dealt him an eight, and Robert’s smile became broad. ‘I’ll stand,’ he said.
‘I’ve a feeling of disaster,’ said the captain, and turned up the first of his own two cards. Ace of clubs. Cumberland’s eyebrow went up. But the second card proved to be a five. ‘H’m,’ said the captain, ‘I ain’t going to make myself a fortune standing on sixteen. So …’ He dealt himself a third card, a jack. ‘Damn me, an interloper.’ He gave himself a fourth. A queen. ‘Topped by an unkind lady,’ he said.
‘Bad luck,’ said Robert.
‘Who is winning?’ asked Annabelle, unable to stay on the outside any longer.
Cumberland disdained the question. Few gentlemen liked to be asked about the state of a game.
‘I’m up, I fancy,’ said Robert, square of shoulders and open of countenance.
Captain Burnside made a note that he had just lost two hundred guineas to Cumberland and five to Robert. He paid Robert. He now owed Cumberland four hundred and seventy guineas in all.
‘Captain Burnside?’ enquired Annabelle prettily, ignoring from Caroline a look that told her not to interrupt the men.
‘Down,’ said the captain, and Caroline frowned. He was losing? What had happened to his skill, then? Or had she hired herself a mere braggart?
The bank passed to Cumberland. He dealt a series of hands, some at a profit, some at a loss, and the deal then returned to Captain Burnside on his showing of an ace and a jack. Robert received some moderate cards, but Cumberland was dealt three excellent hands in succession. The fourth proved even better. It secured him a five-carder, virtually unbeatable if luck was no more than modest, and his total wager on it was one hundred and sixty guineas. The captain, having put Robert out of the reckoning, showed his own cards. An eight and a five. Smoothly, he added to them, first with a deuce, then a three and then another deuce, giving himself a five-card hand that capped the duke’s.
Cumberland smiled. ‘Pretty,’ he said
, ‘very pretty, and boldly achieved.’
‘Oh, something back, sir,’ said Captain Burnside. ‘To the tune of one sixty, I fancy?’
Cumberland waved an airy hand. He began to lose steadily then. He remained impassive, although he turned a keener eye on the captain. The ladies eventually came to watch, to stand in silence around the table. Robert, amiably electing to inform Cecilia that he was comfortably up, received from Cumberland a glance that chastened him. Caroline, making her assessment of the play and the bets, realized the tide had turned for Captain Burnside.
At a little after midnight, a servant entered to announce that the duke’s coach had arrived. At that point, Cumberland owed the captain four hundred and ninety guineas. He also owed Robert seventy-five.
‘Ye’ve a way of turning the tables, Burnside,’ he said. ‘What d’ye say, a cut of the cards before I go, to double what I owe ye or conceding quits?’
That was sharp practice on the part of any gambler who made it difficult for a creditor to collect from him. However, Captain Burnside indicated he was willing, and thereby earned himself a sharp look from Caroline.
Robert shuffled the pack with expertise, and set it down. The duke sat back and glanced at Annabelle. His smile drew a faint flush from her.
‘Your honour, sir?’ murmured Captain Burnside, and Cumberland made his cut with a careless flourish. He showed the king of clubs. Caroline, disapprovingly, watched Captain Burnside make his own cut with deliberation. Cumberland’s smile became wolverine, for the captain showed the ace of diamonds.
‘By God, ye’ve a talent for uncovering the prettiest pictures,’ said Cumberland, and came to his feet.
‘You’ll oblige me, Your Highness?’ said the captain.
‘Ye’ll take an IOU and carry it forward for a return game?’
‘You ain’t possessed of the ready, sir?’
‘Nigh a thousand guineas? That I’m not, man. We’ll play again in two weeks’ time.’ The duke was plainly set on revenge. ‘Here? Ye’ll allow us, m’dear Caroline?’
‘With pleasure, Your Highness,’ said Caroline.
‘Set the sum down,’ said Cumberland to the captain, who used the table quill and a sheet of paper to inscribe the IOU. Cumberland signed with a rasping scrawl. ‘I’ll skin ye alive next time, Burnside,’ he said, then wished his hostess goodnight, allowing his lips to linger on her fingertips. His goodnight to Annabelle was almost perfunctory, but she did not take offence. She knew his first consideration was discretion.
Robert and Cecilia left with him, accepting a lift to their house in his coach.
With the guests gone, Annabelle said, ‘You surely did excel, Captain Burnside, in thinning the duke’s pocket. You all have a profitable way of using cards.’
‘Oh, luck tonight,’ said the captain, musing on the blueness of her eyes. ‘Misfortune next time, perhaps.’
‘I vow the duke took his losses in generous and manly fashion, did you not think so?’ said Annabelle, tingling pleasantly as the captain smiled. Caroline, standing apart, thought her sister coy and the captain very self-possessed. ‘Any other gentleman might have shown a most unpleasant temper.’
‘It ain’t too cheerful, being out of pocket to that extent,’ said the captain, ‘and I dare swear, Miss Howard, that few gentlemen would have taken it as graciously as the duke.’
‘I declare, you are gracious yourself,’ said Annabelle, ‘for the duke is a much maligned gentleman.’
‘But sails bravely above it,’ said Captain Burnside, and Caroline gave him a hot look. What was he doing in praising Cumberland to the one person he should not?
Annabelle’s bosom sighed. Catching her sister’s eye, she said, ‘I must retire. You all will excuse me, Captain?’
‘A little reluctantly,’ said the captain, and Annabelle laughed.
‘You surely are very fitting to be an old friend of Caroline,’ she said, and kissed her sister goodnight.
Left alone with the captain, Caroline said, ‘What are you about, sir?’
‘With your sister, marm?’
‘Yes, with my sister, sir. Are you seeking, in your praise of him, to drive Annabelle into Cumberland’s arms?’
‘It ain’t sound tactics, marm, to slander a rival. Preferable to be in praise of him. It’ll induce affection in Annabelle.’
‘Affection for whom?’ asked Caroline.
‘Your humble servant, marm.’
‘I see.’ A slight smile touched Caroline’s firm lips. ‘But regarding the card play, sir, you risked losing the IOU you held by consenting to a cut of the cards.’
‘A matter of running with Lady Luck,’ said the captain cheerfully. ‘She’s fickle, being very feminine, d’you see, and if you don’t—’
‘Feminine?’ Caroline acquired her cool look. ‘Sir, I find it offensive to hear a man associate fickleness with my sex, for I doubt if any man can be trusted to be wholly faithful.’
‘You’ve a point,’ said the captain. ‘I should have said sensitive. It means that if you don’t run with Lady Luck when she’s taken a fancy to you, she’ll play the very devil with you next time you need her favours.’
Caroline looked questioning. ‘Do you tell me, sir, that it was all a matter of luck tonight, that you did not make use of your vaunted skill or your professional knavery?’
‘Vingt-et-un requires no great skill, marm,’ said Captain Burnside; ‘it’s a game of pure chance, although one can sometimes sum up what the other fellow holds. The luck favoured Cumberland in the beginning.’
‘To what extent?’
‘I was down almost five hundred guineas.’
‘Five hundred?’ Caroline stiffened. ‘You take my breath, sir. You expected me to meet this sum?’
‘It was, I agree, a trifle excessive.’
‘It was a sum, sir, that would be a fortune to many people.’
‘Ah, but the game wasn’t over at that point,’ said the captain.
‘At that point you were almost five hundred guineas down due to luck being against you, if I have it right. You might subsequently have doubled that loss if luck had continued to be unfavourable. I warn you, Captain Burnside, I have not hired you to test your luck against Cumberland, I have hired your professed talents. If you insist, sir, on gambling with airy impunity, don’t look to me to settle your debts, for I shan’t. I haven’t given you unlimited access to my purse, nor shall I.’
‘I shan’t hazard every penny of your wealth, marm, I assure you,’ said Captain Burnside earnestly, ‘but should it look as if I am, then I shall cheat my way to the front as skilfully as you could wish.’
‘You had better, sir, yes indeed you had better. It occurred to me at the end of the play that the IOU of almost a thousand guineas could have been enough to make Cumberland discharge the letter to you. Now, however, you are committed to giving him the chance to win the IOU back. I trust you will deny him such victory, and that by the end of the next game his further losses will compel him to do what you require of him: namely, give up the letter. Also, by that time, I shall expect you to have fired my sister’s interest in you.’
Captain Burnside rubbed his chin. ‘It’s my opinion, marm, that one can’t set fire to a burning house,’ he said. ‘I shall win your sweet sister, have no fear, but it will not happen tomorrow.’
‘Nor at all, unless you show yourself attentive. Annabelle is fond of the river. I’ve suggested to her that she might like to enjoy an outing with you. She is quite in favour, and wishes a picnic hamper to be taken.’
‘Excellent,’ said the captain, ‘but you should come too, of course.’
‘I’ve no desire to.’
‘But, d’you see, marm, it won’t do for you to throw me at her. She’ll guess what you’re at. Young ladies suffering infatuation don’t take kindly to obvious attempts to cure ’em. It’s preferable for all three of us to go on the outing.’
Caroline frowned. ‘Yes, I see,’ she said. ‘Very well. In a day or so.’
‘
Your servant, marm. May I say goodnight?’ He bowed, but she refrained from giving him her hand. She watched him depart for his bed, and as the door closed behind him she wondered if Annabelle might not eventually be in as much danger from him as from Cumberland. In his way, he was, after all, as much of a villain as the duke.
Chapter Six
The handsome brown carriage ran smoothly, the pair trotting, Captain Burnside at the reins. Annabelle was perched beside him, her parasol not only protecting her from the July sun but adding the decorative touch that so complemented a lady’s outdoor look. Annabelle had expressed a wish for a ride to the park on this fine day, and that had given Caroline the opportunity to arrange for Captain Burnside to escort her and drive her.
Annabelle, having developed a liking for the extremely personable captain, was happy to have his company, and to talk to him. He was a most agreeable listener. After some harmless sociable discourse, she came casually to that which was so often on her mind. ‘Captain Burnside, do you think the Duke of Cumberland an impressive man?’
‘Impressive?’ said the captain. ‘Cumberland, I dare say, can be accounted a magnificent prince.’
‘Oh, I do declare you all of sympathetic,’ enthused Annabelle, parasol casting light shade over her prettiness. ‘So many people say the unkindest things about him, and even about his looks. But his scar is an honourable one, and gives him, I vow, the mark of a brave soldier. In uniform, he is truly magnificent.’
‘A martial lion, Miss Howard.’
‘Please call me Annabelle. It’s a pleasure to know you and Caroline are old friends, and that I may consider you my newest friend.’
‘One could say the pleasure is pre-eminently mine,’ said the debonair captain, wheedling the glossy chestnuts into an adroit passing of a lumbering stagecoach. ‘I’ve always been an admirer of your sister, and have already come to the conclusion that you’re a sweet young lady.’
‘Oh, you all are so gallant,’ said Annabelle, and smiled at a lady who fluttered a hand at her from a passing carriage. ‘There, that was Lady Russell, a very dear friend to Caroline, and much devoted to her husband, Sir George Russell, who is like you in being charitably disposed towards the Duke of Cumberland. The duke rendered him much help and kindness when he broke his leg at a country house party many months ago. How I wish …’ She sighed to a halt.
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