The Duke's Wager (9 page)

“Why, what interesting dreams you have, Regina. You must tell me more about them some time,” he yawned.

“Why?” she asked, fighting back the tears, for somehow she knew that tears would be her undoing, that tears would disable her.

“Why?” he smiled again. “Perhaps eventually even constant lovemaking becomes fatiguing. We must talk at some time.”

“You know what I have asked,” she said, sitting up as straight as she could in the shifting vehicle. “Why have you done all this? What joy is there in this? You do not even know me. You cannot care for me.”

“What a strange child you are,” he laughed, and rising gracefully, he swung himself over to sit beside her. He settled back again, his pale head resting against the squabs, took one of her cold hands in his, and idly traced a pattern on the palm of it with one long finger.

“Of course,” he said soothingly, in his normal clandestine whisper, “I do not care for you. Why should I? I care for very few people, Regina. In point of fact, I care for none. But the joy in it? Ah, then, there’s a different story. I don’t care to repeat myself, but you do undervalue your attractions. You are very lovely. Very new. Very desirable. I wanted you when I saw you. So I set out to get you. There is joy in getting what you desire, Regina. And as for other joys…you will come to understand them, too. I shall see to that.”

“No,” she cried, trying to snatch her hand away, but he only held it the tighter, in a surprisingly strong grip.

“No,” she continued, but more quietly, trying to keep her voice even. “I will not find joy with you, Your Grace. There is no joy for a prisoner, for an object, for a creature that is fashioned to serve someone else’s desires. It was not for this that I was born, and educated, and live.”

“How well you speak,” he commented, placing a light congratulatory kiss upon her wrist. “It will be such a diversion, after all these years of hearing nothing but giggles and sighs and ladylike sobs of mournful protest. You speak almost as well as a man. It will be a novelty to make love to a woman who seems to have a man’s mind. Perhaps it will be the best of all possible things. But as for your protests, Regina, I hesitate to contradict such an enlightened mind, but you do not know of what you speak in that case. You are ignorant of all the things that I am master of. You are, since you do seem to enjoy analogous reasonings, rather like a newly hatched chick who asks the hawk what possible joy he finds in soaring. You will understand,” he said, moving quietly close to her.

She could feel the warm dry heat that seemed to emanate from him and, forcing herself to look directly at him, not to shrink back, as she felt he expected her to, she said, “But there are creatures who were not born to fly, who were never intended to do so.”

“Oh, but you forget our tender parting kiss that your aunt interrupted, Regina, I think you, at least, were intended to soar,” he chuckled.

“Can’t you understand,” she cried, raising her voice for the first time, “that this is so wrong, so ridiculous for me? I do not want to be your mistress, or your diversion, or your desire, or anything to you. I only want to be let alone. I want to live my own life.”

“And a good life it will be,” he said, reaching out to smooth back a lock of her hair. “Why you shall have fine clothes, and a lovely place to live, and jewels, yes especially emeralds to go with your eyes, and congenial company. And when it ends, a tidy income to see you on to whatever your own desires will be.”

“None of which I want,” she raged, brushing his hand away. “If I cared for you, still I would not want those things. But I will not be forced into a life of servitude, a life which is supported by selling myself. I would sooner cut off an arm or a limb to sell, than sell my entire self for what you consider luxuries.”

He looked at her with a growing puzzlement, his wide blue eyes suddenly deeper, a curious expression in them.

“I did not expect any of this,” he said looking into her face closely, “when I planned this. You speak to me as if we were equals. Where are your womanly graces, Regina? Why do you not cry, or threaten, or rage, or bargain with me? Why do you not say, ‘Not emeralds, sir, if you please, diamonds.’ Or, ‘Oh pity, sir,’ or, Think of me poor mum, sir, who’ll support her while I’m gone?’ or even, ‘What of my reputation, Your Grace, however shall I marry now?’ But no, you don’t say a word that I expect.”

For a moment, Regina was taken aback. For it was true. Why hadn’t she struggled or screeched, she wondered with sudden shock? She had entered the coach as timidly as a mouse and had sat and prosed on to him as though they were on their way to an afternoon tea. Perhaps it was because she knew herself guilty for attending the Opera that night in the first place, and could not find it in her heart to blame him for his original wrong conclusion about her. But he had done a dreadful, immoral unthinkable thing and she should be roundly denouncing him and shrilling at him now. But perhaps she hadn’t because after all those conflicting dreams of him, she thought of him as someone she could sit and talk and reason with as though she had known him forever. But that was foolish, for nothing he had done since that first meeting had given her an ounce of reason to trust him. Before she could order her whirling thoughts, he moved closer and all thoughts vanished as she realized how very near he was to her in the darkened coach.

“Why,” he laughed, “here we are, in the midst of a daring infamously vile abduction, and you sit there and discourse at me, you reason and explain as if we were in a schoolroom. Has it not occurred to you that you are in the fell company of a vile seducer, a man without conscience, a man who has spent the better part of his busy day daydreaming about the indignities he will soon visit upon your person? No, you simply sit there and discuss the situation with me, as if we were kindred spirits. As if we were old companions met to thrash out philosophical questions about good and evil. Oh you are a delight!” he crowed, and reached out for her.

But she put out two hands and held him off, saying quickly, “But perhaps we
are
kindred spirits. For I was not raised to have any more feminine graces than you were.”

He sat back and looked at her.

She pressed what she hoped was her advantage. “Only think,” she pleaded, “I may be just a commoner, of mixed birth and shadowy antecedents, but I was not educated as were the other women of your world. I do not know their guiles or ambitions. I have been reared with different expectations. I was raised to think of myself always with honor, with dignity. Only for one moment put yourself in my position. Would you sell all your principles for a jewel? For a comfortable set of rooms? For a sum of money? Your Grace, only answer me one question please, only one, and then I will…then I can speak no more. You have been trained to give. You have been used to taking. But could you ever…sell yourself? And if you could not, can you try to understand why I cannot?”

She felt him almost physically recoil at her words. Then he began to laugh. A different laugh than that which she had heard before. A rich, full laugh. When the laughter subsided, he straightened and seemed to stare off into space. Then he turned again to her.

“Well done, oh well done, Regina,” he breathed, a new and excited look on his face. “You have somehow managed to awaken the one last little remnant of that forgotten childhood quality in me—Honor. I did not think that any of it remained. And a certain sporting instinct. No, I should not say gallantry, I’m sure I never had that, but a certain sporting instinct, yes. You are an original. That face, that lovely hair,” he mused, “the clean sweet scent of you…I do still want you very much, Regina. Perhaps now more than ever. It’s pity you weren’t born a titled lady. I swear I’d even propose on the spot if you were. But,” he said half to himself, “delayed pleasure is often the best. Yes,” he seemed to decide suddenly, “yes, it will be most amusing. Regina,” he breathed, “I shall make a bargain with you. But one I am sure of winning. Still, it is a sporting gesture.”

“A bargain?” she whispered, fearful of another of his swings of mood, yet hopeful for the first time.

“Yes, a bargain,” he smiled, the same smile of inner satisfaction that she so frequently noted on his face. “I shall let you go. Go free, and completely on your own. I shall set you down in the midst of town alone. Completely free, as you asked. You have certain handicaps. No home to return to. No finances. You see, I did my research well. No family. Quite a dreadful situation for a young woman to find herself in, isn’t it? But still, you have certain advantages as well. You have beauty and wit and a quick mind. But your greatest handicap will be that you are overburdened with a sense of honor. You will not sell yourself, you say. At least not to me.”

As she began to speak, he silenced her with a wave of his hand. “Yes, I accept that you will not sell yourself to any other. After all, I have some pride in my external appearance. After all, there are some things that both my mistresses and my mirror do tell me. I am not yet aged. Or fat, or gouty. And although I cannot say why, I am yet unafflicted with the pox. Though not from want of opportunity. Has that thought been troubling you? Let me reassure you, this poor croaking voice of mine is a family characteristic, no foul disease yet taints my body. I shall not infect you with my embrace. Which is more, little innocent, than can be said for most of the men in my position these days. As for what foul breath taints my mind? That, no doctor could diagnose. I have gone beyond libertine, yet not—although that is open to argument—completely degenerate. At least,” he laughed ruefully, “I have not yet lusted after exotic animals, or my fellow man, or formed a passion for any breastless children. You do not understand completely? All to the better. At least I know that you do not find me loathsome…physically, that much I do know, whatever you do think of my poor warped mentality.

“So. I shall set you free and you shall be as a little green-eyed fox in the forests of London. I shall keep my hounds on your traces. I shall know every moment of how you fare. Wealth has given me access to Argus eyes. Here, in the center of town, I shall loose you. What a fine game!”

“I may leave now?” she asked quietly. He raised himself and went to the window of the coach to signal to an unseen outrider and whisper some instructions. Settling back again, he went on, with laughter in his voice, his face showing bliss.

“Oh yes,” he said,
“but…
oh, come now, don’t look so crestfallen, you knew that there would be a ‘but,’ didn’t you? But then, you must find a proper place for yourself. A safe harbor. A moral,” he emphasized, “and safe harbor. If I find that within a certain period of time you have done so, I shall wish you joy, and keep only these tender moments safely locked away in my memory. But if you have not, I shall come for you again. And this time, Regina, you may play Sherharazade with a thousand tales of morality and honor and truth, it will not avail you. You will have failed the test. You will be mine to do with as I wish.”

“How long a time?” she asked.

“Oh ho,” he grinned. “Since I am the rulemaker, the inventor of the game, and the scorekeeper, that is my concern. Your concern is to prove to me that we are indeed equals. Or rather, since you have attacked me on the subject, that you are superior to me, if not in birth, then in that elusive thing—Honor. That you can forge a decent place for yourself in this world without using all those ‘feminine’ graces that you claim to be unaware of. That you can, homeless, friendless, moneyless, keep yourself from starvation with ‘honor.’ Give me a living definition of the word, Regina. For I swear, I have never seen it in a creature as lovely as yourself. It is a bargain? The game is to go on?” he asked.

She nodded, and they rode in silence for a small space of time. Then the carriage slowly came to a halt.

“Good,” he said, looking out the window. “Not a back slum, not a place filled with terrors, simply the heart of town. You may go, Regina, and begin the game. But first,” he added, as she rose to go to the door, “we must seal the bargain.”

He pulled her down to his side, with the unusual strength she had noted before, and raising himself so that he looked down into her bewildered eyes, he spoke so softly, she had to strain to hear him.

“All bargains should be sealed with a kiss, Regina, haven’t you heard of that cliché?”

He brought his lips down to her again, and though she tried to remain passive, she again felt the curious response that came involuntarily to her. When he raised his head, he smiled so tenderly that she felt confused again. “Ah, how I despair of letting you go so soon, even if it will only be for a little while,” he sighed.

“But still, a bargain is struck, and the game is begun, little fox. When I return, there will be time enough for both of us. And I have the uneasy feeling that you will take up a great deal of my time in the future. Still,” he said, letting her go, “the game is on…go then, Regina.” And he swung open the carriage door and stepped out.

He handed her down, and she paused on the deserted street and looked at him.

“Do go, go,” he said kindly, “or I shall change my mind. But remember,” he called after her retreating back, “I shall be watching. Make it a fair game. A good game.”

*

The Duke sat lost in thought as the carriage conveyed him home. He had already given certain instructions to the outrider, and he knew that there were other plans to be made and arranged for when he reached his house. Many diverse plans and counterplans. But for now he sat back, the usually pleasantly amused face set in unfamiliar harsh lines. He was remembering, and he did not care to do that.

The evening had not turned out the way he had planned it. That was a novelty. For many years now, he had not been surprised by the results of any of his machinations. He had a quick mind, and was a good judge of character, and seldom found himself engaged in anything that he had not prefigured in his mind. This evening, even now, he had thought he was to have begun the girl’s education. Even now, he sighed, he had supposed that he would have been slowly stripping off her gown, slowly preparing her for the hours that he had reserved for her company in his arms. But somehow, she had turned him around, she had made him doubt himself, she had convinced him momentarily of her sincerity, she had somehow engineered the idea of the incredible game he had invented.