The Lodestone (28 page)

As Cleome strolled from room to room, she saw at every turn the results of all the hard work she and Drake had done at the Eagle’s Head. Lady Easton presented her to several people but with the games fully underway, the noise and laughter were so great that Cleome could not hear half of the introductions. She was delighted to see Oliver with Sir Robert Peel, the Tory who was actively campaigning for law reforms, and the architect, John Dobson, whom Oliver had hired to refurbish Houghton Hall.

When Garnett introduced Cleome to Lord George
Cavendish, Earl of Burlington, the old gentleman declared her quite the prettiest woman there. “If I were not about to celebrate three-quarters of a century on this earth, milady,” he flirted, “this young man would have the devil’s own time keeping me away from you.”

“Sir, I would not attempt to challenge a man of your noble intentions,” Garnett returned pleasantly. To Cleome he said, “Lord Cavendish would have us believe he built the Burlington Arcade as a philanthropic concern, when it was only to keep the lads from tossing their oyster shells into his garden.”

Lord Cavendish commented that anyone who mattered in London—nay, in all of Europe—was at Stoneham House for the grand affair. He’d even heard rumors, he said, that the infamous Beau Brummell was going to take a chance of running into his creditors and make an appearance, as he was an old friend of Drake’s, whom he’d met in France. Although Cleome scanned the crowd for a glimpse of Drake, he was nowhere to be seen—nor was the enigmatic Mignon.

Edwina and Moira Landshire arrived and Cleome watched in some amusement as the ambitious woman looked over eligible young men, much as a thrifty housewife would compare melons for her table. Beside Edwina’s exotic looks (which Cleome was sure had been bequeathed by her father or some distant ancestor), Moira was quite plain.

As Drake had predicted, Garnett encountered many of his school chums from Cambridge. They were for the most part a jolly, enthusiastic lot, as they bowed to Edwina and Cleome and winked behind their gloves at Garnett, congratulating him privately on being with the enticing heiress.

There was only one who stood out among them as unpleasant; and that was Count Paolo Paresi. Cleome was still as uneasy with him as she’d been at the Harvest Ball. There was something not quite right about him. It was a bit like knowing a chameleon could change color depending on what log he sat upon, she thought, so that one could never be sure of his
real
color. He was polished, educated and although tall and much too thin, quite handsome with his blond hair and icy blue eyes. Yet while he flattered Garnett and some of the others, Cleome thought he held for most of them a secret contempt. And she did not like the furtive way he studied Edwina, as if evaluating her for some purpose of his own.

“It was so lovely of Mr. Stoneham to invite me,” Edwina was saying. “You must remember to thank him for me, Cleo.”

“Of course,” Cleome promised with a smile.

“Has he been seen yet, tonight?” queried Moira Landshire. “I understand he cuts quite a dashing figure. I’d like to thank him personally.”

“He has not come down yet,” Garnett commented dryly. “If I know Drake, he’s planning to make a grand entrance—”

“—with his consort,” Paolo finished for him, laughing. “I’ve not seen her myself but I understand she is
quite
something.”

Cleome didn’t like Paolo, but he was right about one thing, she concluded miserably to herself. When Drake deigned to come downstairs with the exquisite creature on his arm, she had to admit Mignon was indeed beautiful—slender and tall with large brown eyes, delicately arching brows, full lips and high cheekbones. Her gown was black and sleek, her black hair was in an elegant upsweep and her only ornamentation was a diamond choker encircling her long, swan-like neck.

“She is of a certain age, especially in her occupation, that bespeaks worldliness,” observed Count Paresi, studying her thoughtfully. “Don’t you think?”

“She is more than twenty and five,” quipped Lady Easton.

“But it is difficult to tell exactly how old she is,” said Moira, and Cleome thought she was as envious as any woman there of Mignon’s complexion, as her own was dull by comparison. Mrs. Landshire was mousy and unremarkable, if not unassuming. “She never smiles,” she went on. “Or frowns, for that matter.”

“It’s the new fashion, designed to make one seem fascinating,” Paolo said, staring at Mignon as if trying to place her. Then he finished with a slight shrug, “As fascinating as one of those poor creatures can be.”

“She’s a good match for Drake,” Garnett commented cheerfully. “Even has a similar gypsy look about her.”

Mignon clung to Drake, and he seemed most protective of her, even making sure Mr. Collins attended her if he was called away from her side.

“
You are aware of her position here?” Paolo asked. “She is to supervise the ladies upstairs. One has it on good account that she has been training them for weeks, and that the virile Mr. Stoneham intends most of them for his . . . um, personal amusement.” There was an excited buzz in the crowd as Drake escorted Mignon to the roulette wheel and whispered something in her ear. To the amazement and delight of all present, she began to spin it. The gentlemen flocked to her table with their ladies following closely, some to gamble and some to watch their husbands. “You haven’t offered an opinion, milady,” Paolo said slyly to Cleome, a smile twitching at his lips. “What think you of their relationship?”

Remembering the brief but intense
moments of mutual desire she and Drake had so recently shared, Cleome replied, “It’s clever of him to allow one of the
ladies upstairs
to operate a game on opening night. Because she is so pretty, it makes a charming display for his guests. I think there’s no more to it than that.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Paolo said. “At any rate, I intend to try my luck with the roulette wheel—and the lady.” With a smirk and a slight bow, Paolo went with Garnett and Edwina to stand in the circle surrounding Mignon.

Although she was well aware that most gaming clubs had such . . .
ladies
, it rankled Cleome’s soul to think Drake was involved in the ugly business. But it
bruised her even more to think he might actually be in love with a woman who was not only beautiful but also far more schooled than she was in how to please a man. Then suddenly, Drake was standing before her.

“Cleome,” he said, his voice rich and smooth as he led her a little away from her friends. “How glad I am to see you. Welcome to Stoneham House. I like the changes you’ve made in the dress,” he added. “You look very grown up tonight.”

“Oh, Drake,” she responded as an army of butterflies assaulted her stomach. “It is magnificent. I’m so proud to have been a part of it.”

He took one of her hands and kissed her soft palm tenderly. “I’m reminded of you at every turn,” he said. “Now that I have the place open, I believe you and I have some unfinished business.”

Cleome’s heart leapt at his words. As she was about to pursue his meaning, there was a disturbance at the roulette wheel and he excused himself to go to Mignon’s aid. Cleome was beginning to worry that she would not have her opportunity with Drake, after all.

The group that Garnett, Edwina and Paolo had joined was pressing close to Mignon, making it impossible for her to operate the game properly. As Drake started to wave them back, Mignon looked wildly around and then slumped to the floor.

“She has fainted,” Drake said to one of the waiters as he picked her up in his arms. “Get some brandy and bring it upstairs.” Some time later, he came back down and put his guests at ease by challenging the more serious gamblers among them to a cribbage tournament. Count Paresi immediately lined up opponents. Garnett and his friends had been hoping for a chance to empty the pockets of the patronizing nobleman but they needed an eighth contender. They were delighted when Cleome volunteered.

Cleome was the fourth opponent for Paolo, and he could not get past her. When she defeated him, an approving rumble rose from the crowd. She proceeded to triumph over the other four challengers and immediately set up another round of eight. She was not surprised when
Drake made his way to her table to watch her play but she was stunned when the last man dropped out and Drake took his place.

“
You’re an accomplished player, milady,” he told her. “Such an engagement would excite me greatly.”

“What stakes do you propose, Mr. Stoneham?” she asked with a smile.

“
Whatever your heart desires,” he offered. “I’d have from you that magnificent beast, Epitome. I know you have him here tonight. What do you want from me?”

She was scarcely able to speak, her heart was beating so fast. Had he had seen her arrive on horseback, or had someone informed him? “Let us begin with . . . the tavern house,” she said at last.

“Pardon, mum?”

“The Eagle’s Head Inn, at Oakham. My childhood home. I would like to own it. Will you put it up against my horse, sir?”

“As you wish,” he agreed. They cut the cards for the deal, which went to Drake. “As Pone, you have the right to cut again before the deal,” he told her.

“Thank you sir, but I would not cast such a slur upon your character, for I know you are a gentleman.”

He nodded, appreciating the joke, she thought, as she had once reminded him that he was anything but. “Four-card flush in the crib?” he asked, picking up the cards.

“Oh, indeed. I shall need every point,” she said, her eyes boldly meeting his.

He started to deal, and as word of their wager and rumors of their brief history together swept through the room, more onlookers gathered at their table. Edwina and Garnett edged to the front of the crowd to cheer Cleome to victory. She played shrewdly and well, but the cards were against her and Drake won. Reminding herself that she was playing for much higher stakes, Cleome blinked back the tears that threatened as she realized she had lost Epitome.

“I would be no gentleman if I did not allow you the chance to win him back,” he offered. “What do you say to another hand, milady?”

“By all means,” she agreed, flashing him a brilliant smile. “I’m afraid I do not know his value in cash, sir. If you give me an estimate, I shall put up the amount.”

“It’s not gold I want, mademoiselle,” he said.

“Then what? Name your terms, sir.”

“
If you win, you’ll have your horse. If I win, I’ll have one night alone with you, in my house in St. James Street.”

The crowd gave a collective gasp and Lady Easton looked as if she might faint. Garnett stepped forward. “She will not, sir,” he proclaimed. “Drake, without a
chaperone—she has led too sheltered a life to fully comprehend your meaning.”

“
Sit down, sir,” Drake returned, but he was looking into Cleome’s eyes. “The lady comprehends my meaning exactly.”

“Have no worry, my friend,” Cleome tried to reassure Garnett. “I do understand the terms but I shall not lose.” To Drake, she said, “I agree, sir, with one modification.”

“My curiosity demands satisfaction,” he replied.

“Epitome
and
the Eagle’s Head Inn
against the prize you wish to claim.”

“Is owning your childhood home so important to you, milady?” he goaded her.

“
You know it is. I would give anything to own it.” This time, she did not hesitate over the word; and neither did he.

“
Anything?” he asked softly.

“
Anything,” she assured him, gazing into his eyes.

“Done.”

Tension mounted with every card dealt, and the crowd that ringed their table grew. When Drake won again, a cheer went up among the men while all the ladies gasped, blushed or furiously fanned their crimson cheeks. Edwina’s discriminating mamma actually swooned, and the attentive Count Paolo went to her aid with his own smelling salts. Cleome wondered if she should attempt to look dismayed but she didn’t think she could hide her joy at the prospect of going home with Drake.

“Mademoiselle,” he said soberly as the clamor around them died and everyone waited to see what she would do. “I must see to one or two things before I can leave the House. That will give you time to make your escape, if you wish; but please remember I consider this a debt of honor.”

“And honor I place above all things,” Cleome taunted pleasantly, to the vociferous approval of the enthusiastic onlookers.

“Then collect your things, milady, and bring my horse. Tonight I claim my rightful property—and all your attention.” He bowed and left her to smile contentedly after him. Lord Easton hurried his flustered wife away, as Moira did Edwina; and Garnett tried to appeal to Cleome’s common sense.

“I beg you to reconsider,” he said. “Drake will forgive such an outrageous debt. My parents will not. Nor can I.”

“I’m sorry to hear it, Garnett. I hate to lose your friendship but I’ve tried to make you understand how ill prepared I am to enter the society you cherish. It’s not my behavior here tonight your class cannot forgive, but the shame of my birth. Destiny has made it possible for me to act as I please and just because no
decent
man can take me to wife, you must not expect me to live my life alone.”

“You’re in love with him,” he said in agony. “And that is the sting.”

“Yes, dear,” she whispered. “I am, and I’ll try everything I can think of to make him love me. Please try to understand. I
will
have a life as full and rich as I can make it, but we both know why that cannot include marriage. Come now, if I were a man, you would not judge me so harshly.”

“If you do this, you’ll be lost to me forever. No respectable man could—”

“No respectable man could, in any case,” she interrupted. “You have always known that. I deeply regret hurting you, Garnett. But I have made my choice.”