A Lady by Chance (Historical Regency Romance) (3 page)

But to go along with Sir Henry's scheme might not be so great a sacrifice. Her life was utterly empty. As Haverstock's marchioness surely she would at least have entry into society, not that she craved the balls and social whirl. But how wonderful it would be to have friends to share a conversation with, to have someone to ride with in the park.

Then, too, if she were to become Lady Haverstock, she could fulfill the deathbed promise she had made to her mother.

Her feelings hardly mattered when weighed against England. For the first time since her mother's death, Anna felt needed.

"I will win the money from Mr. Morgan," she said.

It was very distasteful to Sir Henry to dress so innocuously, but he could take no chances he would be recognized by Ralph Morgan. He had watched, unobserved, as Morgan entered the bank. What was taking the man so deuced long? Sir Henry yanked in his fob and noted the time on his watch.
The fool had been in there for an hour
. As he placed the watch back in his pocket, he saw Morgan leave the bank, his step jaunty as he carried a small leather valise to his barouche where half a dozen liveried men assured his protection.

So the man wasn't half the fool Sir Henry had thought. Still, Sir Henry was puzzled. Fifty thousand pounds should be in a portmanteaux, not a small valise. Nevertheless, Sir Henry mounted his horse and followed at a discreet distance.

Assured that Morgan was home, Sir Henry hurried to his own house to change and prepare for his next step. In less than an hour, he was being shown into Morgan's opulent parlor.

"My dear Mr. Morgan," Sir Henry said, "I was passing by and decided I must pay you a call. You and your friend Haverstock have been much on my mind of late." He watched Morgan as he sat down. He seemed heavier than Sir Henry remembered. That was it! He carried many of the sovereigns within his coat. Sir Henry's respect for Morgan's intellect increased.

"Pray, why is that, Sir Henry?"

Sir Henry took out his snuff box, withdrew a pinch and inhaled. Then, smiling mischievously at Morgan, he sat down in a tufted chair and said, "The female conquests of you two are rather well known. I believe there is a certain rivalry over which of you can escort the loveliest women."

Morgan's face colored. "More often than not, Haverstock wins the beauties."

"Alas, it is hard to compete with a title."

"Oh, it's not just his title. Given the choice between a man small of stature like myself or one as huge and rugged looking as Haverstock, most women prefer the bulk."

"That may be, but if a beautiful woman were to see you first, I am sure you could win her over with your elegance of person."

Morgan blushed again.

"That's why I'm here. There is a great beauty who has recently come to London. Since it's too early for the season, none of the bucks have made her acquaintance. Take my word on it, there is not a lovelier woman in all of England. And I propose to introduce you to her today."

Morgan's eyes narrowed. "Why are you not interested in her for yourself?"

Sir Henry shook his head. "I've long since given up young maidens as well as the thought of marriage. Fifty is much too old to change my bachelor ways."

A slow smile crossed Morgan's face. "Got a bit of time on my hands. Where do we meet this nonpareil?"

"We will present ourselves at her house on Grosvenor Square."

Morgan lifted a brow. "Then she's not – -"

"Not a lightskirt. She's a gentlewoman. However, have no fear she will try to grip you in parson's mousetrap. She has quite a fortune of her own."

Rising, Morgan said, "If it's all the same to you, old chap, I prefer to take my barouche. Feel a lot safer with my able men surrounding me. So much crime of late, you know."

Getting his greatcoat from his regally liveried butler, Morgan announced that he was going to Grosvenor Square.

Wearing a soft white gown that revealed her ivory neck and decolletage, Anna presided over the tea table, engaging Mr. Morgan in talk of the campaigns in the Peninsula. Then, telling him she knew men much preferred port, she began to fill and refill his glass with the Portuguese liquid. It was at that point, Sir Henry took his leave.

Since Anna had neither a parent nor a companion to chaperon, for the sake of propriety she had arranged for a maid – the one closest to her size – to don one of her fine dresses and sit in the parlor doing needlework.

Despite that Anna was tired from having practiced her card playing with Sir Henry throughout the night, she charmed Mr. Morgan as the future of England depended on it.

After the liquor began to relax him, Anna said, "I cannot pretend that your reputation has not preceded you, Mr. Morgan. Your every activity merits scrutiny from the
ton
. Even I have heard a great deal about you. For instance, I know you are in possession of a large fortune."

"Sir Henry tells me you, too, have vast wealth."

"Yes. It seems we have that in common," she said. "I have also heard that in one night you can win or lose sums large enough to dower half the ladies coming out in any given year."

"Kind of you to mention winning. Seems I do much more of the opposite."

She lowered her impossibly long lashes and favored him with a bewitching smile. "I do not believe that for a moment, Mr. Morgan. I am sure a man such as yourself possesses great skill."

"You are all kindness, Miss de Mouchet."

"I adore playing cards though my skill is sadly inadequate."

"We shall have to play sometime."

She looked up hopefully. "Should you like to play a few hands of vingt-un today?"

"Capital idea."

Anna summoned her servants to set up the card table while she and Mr. Morgan established the rules. She easily persuaded him to wager. Then, they decided to change the dealer with each game and to allow the dealer to win double the wager for having a pontoon.

For the first half hour of play, Anna consistently lost but insisted on increasing the amount of the wager with each new game.

After they had played an hour, Anna's winnings amounted to ten thousand pounds.

Patting his coat laden with money, Mr. Morgan said, "I say, my luck had better change. Don't care to face Haverstock when he's in a rage. Such a large man."

Anna shivered, remembering the elder Lord Haverstock's rage, though she had no recollection of him being excessively large. "Pray, why should Lord Haverstock care what you do with your money?"

"He, ah," Mr. Morgan stammered, "He holds a strong dislike for gaming."

As Mr. Morgan's consumption of liquor increased, his skill decreased. Relieving him of his very considerable funds was as easy as blinking, Anna thought. Even without the marked cards, she could have effortlessly plucked her winnings from the drunken man.

"Devilishly bad luck I'm having," he uttered, throwing down his cards. "Better cut my losses and leave."

"Pray, do not get discouraged," Anna coaxed. "I just know you will win the next hand."

With Anna's help, he did win the next hand. "'Pon my word, my luck is most decidedly changing," Mr. Morgan said happily while Anna dealt the next hand. He had a seven showing; her visible card was an ace.

She had a king face down and could tell that Morgan's bottom card was a number between two and ten. She declined a hit; he took one. It was a four. He took a swig of port and smiled broadly, proudly flipping over his cards. They added up to twenty-one.

Then Anna revealed her pontoon and scooped up the money on the table and an additional fifteen thousand.

For the next hand, the wager was twenty thousand. He dealt Anna a face card down, himself an ace down. His next card was a nine, hers an ace.

He smiled broadly. "Can't possibly have two pontoons in a row."

"I am sorry to say I can, Mr. Morgan," Anna said, watching him utter an oath before he began to scrawl an IOU.

When night fell and Morgie still had not called, Haverstock's anxiety grew. He decided a visit to Morgie's town house was in order. There, he discovered Morgie had gone out with Sir Henry Vinson. Haverstock arched a brow. He did not know Morgie was acquainted with Sir Henry. Having a rapport with Morgie's servants from the frequency of his visits, Haverstock's gentility did not prevent him from asking where Morgie had gone.

"He's gone to Grosvenor Square, my lord," Morgie's butler replied.

Haverstock rode his gig directly to Grosvenor Square, where the presence of Morgie's barouche indicated which house his friend visited.

The marquess surveyed the stately four-story house approvingly before mounting the steps and rapping on the door. After presenting his card to the butler who greeted him, Haverstock said, "I have an urgent need to see Mr. Morgan."

The butler looked nervous, but since he was unaccustomed to callers, showed the marquess to the parlor.

Haverstock was horrified at the sight he beheld. There, Morgie lazily stretched out in a chair at a game table, a glass of port in his hand. But it was the table which drew Haverstock's attention. On it stacked crooked towers of gold sovereigns. Hundreds of them.

And sitting opposite Morgie was a young woman of exquisite beauty.

Haverstock strode up to her, bowed and said, "Charles Upton, the Marquess of Haverstock, at your service."

A puzzled look on her face, Anna sputtered, "But you cannot be the marquess. You look nothing like your father."

"You knew my father? May I have the honor to make your acquaintance, Miss  – -?"

She extended her hand hesitantly. "Miss de Mouchet. Anna de Mouchet."

That name! He had heard not only his father but also his mother speak of the de Mouchet woman in the most demeaning way. It was the de Mouchet woman who had deprived his Aunt Margaret of the fortune due her as Steffington's duchess. It had been said the de Mouchet woman had presided over a gaming establishment. And it was the de Mouchet woman who had borne the old duke's child out of wedlock while Haverstock's poor aunt went to her grave barren. This woman he now gazed at must be that child. And she had obviously inherited her mother's evil ways.

He looked at her beauty only with contempt now. "How much has he lost?"

"A very large sum, my lord," Anna said smugly.

"How much?"

"I believe it is about fifty-thousand."

"Pounds?"

She nodded, slipping the marked cards in the false bottom of a drawer of the table. A perfectly legitimate deck remained on the table.

Since her hands were under the table, Haverstock had not seen her action. He grabbed the deck that remained. "I will have a look at the cards, Miss de Mouchet."

"Please, do. I have nothing to hide. You will find I won the money fairly."

Mr. Morgan made an attempt to straighten his spine. "I say, Haverstock, bit rough on the girl. I take full responsibility for my losses."

Haverstock ignored his friend as he examined the cards for several minutes. Then he looked around the room. "No one else has been here while you played? Someone who could have been observing my friend's hand and passing the information to you?"

"No one," Anna snapped. "Unless you count my companion who has not moved from her chair on the other side of the room."

He turned to observe the young woman who sat sewing at least twenty feet away. "May I ask who the dealer was?"

"The deal changed with each hand, my lord," Anna said calmly.

He flung the cards back on the table as Morgie began to slide from his chair.

"Deuced fool. He's passed out," Haverstock said, lifting Morgie effortlessly and carrying him to a nearby sofa.

Then, Haverstock turned back to Anna, malice on his face. "I don't know how you did it, but I submit that you are a cheat and a thief, like the French whore who was your mother."

Her face growing hot with rage, Anna rose. "Get out of my house at once!"

Fury flashed in his eyes as he glared at her icy beauty. "I will not leave until I have my friend's money back."

"That, my lord, is impossible."

He knew Morgie would make up the losses within the next few months, but that would be too late for his meeting with Monsieur Herbert.

By holding back his anger and negotiating with the woman, perhaps he could get the money by tomorrow. Drawing a step nearer to her, he said, "Forgive me. I spoke rashly. It's just that it's imperative that I have the money tonight."

"As I said, that is impossible."

"I will give you a promissory note to return the entire sum with ten percent interest before the end of this quarter. That's another five thousand pounds for you."

"My answer is still no."

In silence, he stared at the lovely creature for what seemed like several minutes, phrasing the words that gathered in his mind. "I know you to be a woman of fortune. May I ask why you cling so obstinately to this money?"

She lifted her defiant gaze to him. "It is because I have no love for the House of Haverstock. Your father treated my mother cruelly and unjustly, and my mother was the kindest, most loving woman I've ever known."

From the way he had heard his father talk of Anna's mother, he could well believe his father's treatment of the woman. And he knew only too well how cruel his father could be when dealing with those he felt were beneath his rank.

"Surely you cannot blame the son for the sins of the father?" he said in an apologetic voice.

Her eyes as cold as Sienna marble, she challenged, "Does his blood not run in your veins?"

He spoke slowly and almost with a gentleness. "I am not my father."

"But you also insulted me. For that you will pay."

Anna looked up into Haverstock's piercing black eyes. She had never stood so close to such a large man before. He had to be several inches over six feet. Everything about him was large from his broad shoulders to his deep, resonant voice. He neither looked nor acted like the man she remembered as his father. Whereas his father had been fair, the son was dark. His thick black hair crept slightly further back on his forehead than she guessed it had a decade earlier. And a fleshiness around his square chin added to his maturity without detracting from his good looks. His somber face featured a full mouth and fine aquiline nose. She found him quite handsome, and his presence had a disturbing effect on her. She wanted to detest him but found she could not, particularly after he had so humbly said You cannot blame the son for the sins of the father. Without speaking unfavorably, he had acknowledged his parent's meanness.