A Wager for Love (5 page)

“Tell me, do you make a habit of calling on gentlemen unescorted?” he asked mockingly. “Or am I especially favoured? I seem to recollect some talk of your brother bringing you to London to find you a husband. Surely he cannot have suggested me?”

Lavinia could only stare, speechless with rage. “How dare you. I had thought you merely to be a cheater of green young boys, but now I see I was mistaken. You are an arrogant coxcombe as well,” she flung at him, hands clenched and eyes flashing.

A grim smile crossed the harsh features of the man. “Most effecting,” he sneered. “but it still does not answer my question. What are you doing here? Not purely a social call, I apprehend …”

He watched her carefully from beneath lowered lids, whilst Lavinia, battling with pride and temper, said haughtily, “It is a matter of my brother’s debts to you. I have come to redeem his notes of hand.”

He glanced thoughtfully at her, without evincing any surprise. “Your brother you say. That would be Lord Arnedale?”

Lavinia was fast losing her somewhat precarious control of her feelings. “You mean there are others?” Then in a different tone, she continued. “Naturally I mean my brother Lord Arnedale. I should have thought you would have no difficulty in remembering him, Sir, especially since he made you the richer by a considerable sum last night.”

“Indeed, a considerable sum,” murmured the Earl. “As yet unpaid, and you say you have come to redeem the puppy’s vowels. Tell me, do you keep the boy in leading string?”

Casting caution aside, Lavinia took a deep breath. “I beg leave to inform you, Sir, that I find your manner most objectionable. You are insufferable.”

“So I understand,” agreed the Earl, a gleam in his eyes, “however, much though it pains me to say this, and to a lady, too, your opinion of me is totally irrelevant to our discussion. We were, I believe, discussing your foolish young brother’s gaming debts. Tell me, my dear, do you always busy yourself so much about your brother’s business? Can it be that you are his guardian, or some such thing?”

Lavinia bit her lip vexedly. There was no mistaking the irony in the man’s voice. Honesty compelled her to answer, “No. Well at least …” ·

“You are worried lest the boy lose his fortune?” offered the Earl helpfully.

Lavinia looked down at the floor. The discussion was taking a direction she disliked exceedingly. Looking up and finding the Earl’s eyes resting mockingly on her, she burst out, “Richard does not have a fortune. That is why …” she broke off. The perceptive green eyes continued to regard her consideringly for a second.

“I see, no fortune you say. Yet he was gambling at White’s, and for very high stakes, unless I am mistaken.”

“And you are never mistaken?” she returned spiritedly.

“I try not to be,” confirmed the Earl gravely.

Lavinia tried to hide her agitation. The interview was not proceeding as she had planned. By rights, the man standing so calmly in front of her should have been reduced, if not to abject remorse, then at least to a proper realisation of the wickedness of his actions, instead of which, far from being brought to any true appreciation of the dishonourable nature of his behaviour, Lavinia had the distinct impression that he was toying with her, like a cat with a mouse.

“Well?” prompted the Earl, breaking in on these uneasy thoughts.

“Yes,” replied Lavinia stiffly, “l believe the stakes were high. Richard did not realise … that is …” she started to flounder a little.

“What you are trying to say,” cut in the Earl, “is that Richard was too befuddled with wine to know what he was doing.”

Unwilling to acknowledge the truth of this statement, Lavinia struggled valorously to make a recovery. “He is but a boy …”

“… and without a penny to his name?,’ queried the Earl softly.

Lavinia frowned. This was getting on dangerous ground; she had little desire to admit that Richard had in fact very little money. “Naturally my brother has his estates. I would not consider him to be penniless precisely,” she replied loftily.

“But certainly not plump enough in the pocket to meet debts of seventy thousand guineas,” drawled her tormentor. “So where does the money come from?”

“I cannot see what possible business that is of yours,” responded Lavinia hotly. “I have here a draft for the amount, surely that is all that concerns you?”

“Oh but, my dear, that is where you are sadly wrong. Why, you could have done all manner of foolish things. Pawned your mother’s jewellery. Held up the London Mail!”

At this she eyed him a trifle suspiciously. “The money is my own.” Despite her intentions, her voice was slightly muffled. “I have recently come into it.”

“Ah, I see,” breathed the Earl. “You are an heiress and doubtless possessed of a fortune, of which this seventy thousand guineas is only a part?”

“That can scarce be any business of yours, Sir,” rejoined Lavinia tartly, instantly regretting her words as the green eyes narrowed unpleasantly.

“I surmise I am correct,” continued the Earl, ignoring her words, his eyes fixed on her face.

Somehow-she did not really know why-Lavinia felt compelled to answer, however unwillingly. “Well, yes …”

For a moment the Earl stood with his back to her, a small secret smile curving his mouth, and Lavinia was aware of a strange portentous silence. “So, you are an heiress and have come to redeem your brother’s debts. Truly a good sister. I do hope the boy is suitably grateful?”

Lavinia pressed her lips together firmly, determined not to be drawn, but she could not prevent the delicate colour flooding her cheeks.

“There are, of course, many ways in which debts can be paid,” mused the Earl. “It could be that I should prefer another form of settlement.”

“Another form?” queried Lavinia uneasily, genuinely puzzled by his strange words.

The Earl smiled thinly. “It would be most unfortunate if it were to get out that your brother had to depend on you to pay his debts.” He shook his head. “For a man not to honour his obligations …”

“But you shall be paid,,’ whispered Lavinia, bewildered. “See, I have the draft here.” Hurriedly she fumbled with the clasp of her reticule, but the Earl’s words stilled her hands.

“And I have told you, the payment I shall ask of you is not money.”

Lavinia became aware of a certain dryness in her mouth, “Wwwwhat, is it then?,’ she stammered.

“I have it in mind to get me a wife,” murmured the Earl, his eyes resting on her for a moment.

“A wife,” repeated Lavinia, unable to tear her gaze away from his, “but what has that to do with Richards debts?”

The Earl crossed the narrow strip of floor between them. “Only this, Miss Davenham. I need a wife, and it occurs to me that you fulfil all my specifications.”

After one brief look at his face, Lavinia stood frozen to the spot. So unnerved was she, that she found herself completely unable to enquire exactly what the Earl’s specifications were. Obviously the man was mad. He should be locked up in Bedlam. Despite her fear she managed to say quite firmly. “I’m sorry, I could not marry you.”

“Oh, but I think you will. You see, my dear, unless you do I very much regret that I shall not be able to consider your brother’s debts paid.”

Horrified, Lavinia took a step back. “But we don’t even know one another. I don’t even like you.”

Even this paralysing honesty did not seem to have any effect on the Earl. He merely paused in the act of taking a pinch of snuff to eye her a little sardonically. “Like,” he scoffed, “does that matter? It is a wife I want not a mistress.”

His bored tones made Lavinia feel extremely gauche as, struggling to regain her composure, she declared stoutly, “Well, I shall not marry you, and that is an end to the matter.”

The green eyes darkened and there was a certain something in their depths that made Lavinia shiver a little. The Earl stepped forward, and then checked as the door opened.

“Ah, Gilles, there you are.”

The newcomer, unable to see Lavinia who was standing to one side of the door, sounded normal enough, she decided with relief, as Lord Ware hurried into the room.

Seeing that the Earl’s attention was distracted, Lavinia pulled her cloak firmly round herself, darted forward, flung the draft down onto a small desk, and before anyone could stop her, rushed from the room, carefully keeping her face averted from the newcomer. If this tale were to get round town, it would mean social ruin. She shuddered. At least she had escaped.

Meanwhile, Lord Ware was facing his furious friend. “Lud, Gilles, who was that? A pretty piece and no mistake, but it isn’t like you to have them here.”

The EarI’s mouth set in a hard line. “You will oblige me by forgetting that you have ever seen that young lady.”

Lord Ware shrugged. “If you wish it, but tell me, who is she?”

The Earl smiled. “That I cannot tell you, at least not yet. By the way, Ware, I think I recall that Lady Fitzallen gives a rout patty tonight.”

“Aye,” nodded Ware gloomily. “The whole ton will be there. It will be a sad crush.”

“Yes, I thought so,” said the Earl in a satisfied tone.

Lord Ware turned a startled expression on his face. “You surely aren’t thinking of going, Gilles? Why, the last time I saw Lady Fitzallen she was swearing she would never speak to you again, something about a niece of hers.”

“I trust I shan’t have too much difficulty in persuading the lady she was, er misguided,” replied the Earl laconically. “Still, I don’t think I shall be required to use such drastic measures.”

“Drastic measures-what the devil are you talking about, Gilles? I don’t understand.”

Saltaire smiled a little at the plaintive tone of his friend’s voice. “All will be revealed in due time, Ware-never fear.”

With that Lord Ware had to be content, for it was plain that the Earl would say nothing more on the subject. Even had he been privileged to see the Earl, shortly after he took his leave of him, placing the draft into his desk, writing a short note, sanding it, and then giving it to a liveried flunkey with an unpleasant smile, with the instruction to “see that this reaches my cousin, Ordley, at once-there will be no reply,” it is doubtful whether he would have been any the wiser.

Lavinia retraced her steps back to Lady Elizabeth’s oblivious of the stares of passers-by, her thoughts in a whirl. The man must surely be deranged. There could be no other explanation for his behaviour. Regaining her cousin’s house at length. she walked slowly through the hall and started to mount the stairs.

“Ah. Lavinia. there you are. You naughty girl, you have been a positive age. I declare I had begun to think you lost.”

Lavinia stopped, one foot poised on the first stair, as her cousin came hurrying towards her. Lavinia sighed, “I’m sorry. cousin. I …”

“Why. Lavinia. whatever is amiss?” asked her cousin in tones of lively dismay. “You look so pale.” She clamped her hand to her mouth. a dreadful thought seizing her. “Never say there has been a mistake. Your grandmother has left her money to that wretched uncle of yours after all.”

Lavinia shook her head unhappily, biting her lip. All at once she was consumed with an overwhelming desire to confide in someone. Speaking slowly, her voice hesitant, and keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the floor she began. “It is nothing like that. Elizabeth, I assure you. Indeed, my grandmother’s fortune was far larger than I had dreamed.”

“So,” responded Lady Elizabeth gaily, completely at a loss to understand her cousin’s low spirits, “you can give Richard his draft, and then the matter will be at an end.”

“There will be no need for me to give Richard his draft,” replied Lavinia hollowly.

Lady Elizabeth gave her cousin a sharp look. “Whatever can you mean-no need?”

“I have already delivered it myself…” There! It was out, and Lavinia could not repress a small shudder, as she recalled the scene in the Grosvenor Street house.

Lady Elizabeth surveyed her cousin, round-eyed. “Lud, child, where to? Richard himself could not remember the rogue’s name. After you had gone, he told me himself that he would take the draft to White’s and get the man’s direction there.”

Lavinia was finding it extremely difficult to continue. “I had the address from a chairman. A house in Grosvenor Square.”

Her voice was so low that Lady Elizabeth had difficulty in hearing her. She caught the words “Grosvenor Square” and nodded approvingly. “An excellent address. Many of the nobility live there. ” She paused for a second looking a trifle pensive. “Indeed, Saltaire himself lives there now, unless I am mistaken. Yes, I’m sure of it. I recall Maria Thornbury saying that the late Earl, his grandfather, was one of the first to take up residence there when the Square was first built. I believe it is Number Sixteen.”

Lavinia paled. “Bbbut, cousin, you must be wrong-that was where I was directed.”

There was silence for a few seconds as the full realisation of what she had done sank into Lavinia’s mind. She was filled with a deep sense of foreboding. She sat down heavily. Whatever had possessed her?

Lady Elizabeth, consternation written plain upon her face, whispered, “Oh, my love, never say you went to Saltaire’s house, alone and completely unchaperoned. Why, if this were to get out,” she moaned, “you would be ruined, quite ruined. Never mind your fortune…”

Lavinia frowned a little trying to shake off the uneasy feeling she had had from the moment she first entered the Grosvenor Square house. “But, cousin, this Earl, surely …”

“My dear, the scandals, and the rumours that one hears! You wouldn’t believe the things he has been accused of. They are not fit for your ears,” amended her cousin hastily. “He killed young Eversham, you know, he is quite merciless.”

Lavinia, recalling the dark saturnine features of the man she had seen, had not the slightest difficulty in believing that the Earl was indeed capable of anything. Mechanically, trying to gather her scattered wits, she asked her cousin. “Why did he kill him-the young man I mean?”

Lady Elizabeth proceeded, “Saltaire, so it is said, was mad for the boy’s sister. He ran off with her after he had killed the boy, and then …” her voice dropped to a whisper, “it was all quite dreadful. They say he deserted her, just left her in Paris, without so much as a guinea. The town was ahum with it for nigh on a month.”