The Wicked Wager (16 page)

“I want you to stay away from William.”

Emma stepped out of the earl’s arm in
surprise. He had met her in her room again, and she had leaped into his arms
happily. Now she searched his face and noticed the tight lines around his
mouth.

“Why?”

“Because he is a rake and a blackguard, and
you are not safe with him! You do not know the things he has done. He is ten
times worse than me. He has no honest bone in his body, and he will compromise
you before you can … why are you laughing?”

“He is your best friend, and as for him
compromising me, he barely speaks to me. He is obsessed
with my cousin.
I have to continuously remind him that I am his fiancée.”

“
Pretend
fiancée”

“Yes, alright,
pretend
fiancée, and
I think we should be worried about him compromising Catherine under the duke’s
very roof. I have never seen my poor cousin blush so much as she does in his
company. I thought he was a boring old professor, but he must be saying some
truly outrageous things to her to have her so flustered.”

“Oh, dear”

“Richard,” she said giggling, “you sound like
my mamma, you had the disapproving tone down perfectly.”

“Well, since I will be related to her soon
enough, I feel obligated to protect Catherine from that scoundrel.”

“What brought about this sudden change? I
thought you were best friends, and according to you, he is absolutely
wonderful. You did not want me to interact with him? Then why in the world did
you choose him for this charade? I cannot act my role if I am not allowed to
even speak to him. The duke, for one, will find it decidedly odd.”

“That was before …”

“Before what?”

“Never mind. Just hear me out. You must
chaperone your cousin, and ignore my rant of staying away from him. He is a
wily fox, and we need to keep Catherine’s virtue safe. Otherwise, we will have
more to worry about than the duke discovering my identity. I am not so sure I
would win in a duel against him. He practices every morning, did you know? I
watched him, and his aim is dead on at fifty paces.”

“I think William is a gentleman, and you
had a decidedly better opinion of him a few days ago. I am truly interested to
know what changed your mind.”

The earl stooped to kiss her to silence her
questions. He did not want to admit his jealousy.

She laughingly tried to fend him off to
continue her line of thought, but he held her hands in an iron grip allowing no
room for escape. She finally gave in, and her laughter faded as desire mounted.

A knock at the door had them both leap
apart in shock.

“Who is it?” Emma called.

“Raikes”

“That good for nothing …”the earl’s tirade
was halted by Emma quickly opening the door.

“I called him”, she replied apologetically,
“I thought we could discuss things more easily here.’’

“You, my dear, will never entertain any man
other than me in your bedroom. Is that clear?” he growled angrily.

Seeing the furious look on his face she
nodded meekly.

He turned to face Lord Raikes,

“You, get out and stay out. I will meet you
in your room. We can talk there, and you can update Emma tomorrow during
daylight, with at least three chaperones present. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Richard,” he said in a brilliant
imitation of a young meek lady. He threw in a curtsey at the end.

Emma dissolved into giggles, and the earl
slammed the door shut on his friend.

***

“At least you will have a glass of decent
malt for me every night. I have never appreciated such small luxuries before,”
the earl muttered.

“You can sleep on the couch,” Lord Raikes
offered.

“That Pickering would notice. I think the
duke has asked him to keep an eye on me, and he does a good imitation of a
faithful hound. I have half a mind to lure him away with double the pay.”

“Just so you can order him around as he has
been ordering you about the past few days?”

“Exactly,” the earl replied, taking a swig
from the glass.

“You do know I would never dare think of
Emma in any other way than your bride … don’t you?” he asked seriously.

“I know, I am sorry I reacted so strongly
earlier. It is just that once you find someone you … you care about, jealousy is
not far behind. I want to possess her, and I know how barbarian that sounds,
believe me,” the earl said ruefully. “But one day you will understand. It is
part of the reason for the charade. I want to marry her and do the honourable
thing. Not just because I desire her physically but because I want to have her
by my side, sharing my life, my home, and my family. I want the people I value
in my life to know her and love her as she deserves.”

“I never thought I would see the day when
my friend would admit to being in love.”

“I never said I loved her!”

“You did not have to,” Lord Raikes replied
smiling.

“Enough about me, tell me how do you find
being in love?”

“In love! You must be joking, I just met
her.”

“Yes, Prudence is a lovely girl, you can’t
do better than her.”

“Pru …” he spluttered, then seeing the earl
laughing, scowled, “I would not touch her with a barge pole.”

The earl sobered, feeling sorry for the
unfortunate girl once more. He related the events of the afternoon and told him
of Lady Babbage’s attempts to blackmail.

Lord Raikes frowned and said, “Lady Babbage
seems to be genuinely fond of Catherine, yet I am not surprised to hear of her
unpleasant activities. Behind that calm demeanour, she hides a raging tempest,
bubbling with emotions. She hates and loves with a passion, taking the
slightest offence to heart but never expressing it publicly. Her status as the
duke’s sister has not stopped the family from marginalising her. The treatment
meted out to her is not fair, though I am not condoning her actions in any
way.”

“William, that woman frightens me, and I do
not mind admitting it. I chanced a glimpse of Prudence’s face as she watched
Lady Babbage leave, and the hatred I saw was disturbing. She has pushed the
girl to the edge, and I do not know how many others. I have a suspicion she may
be trying her tricks with the duke as well. This whole house seems to be a
disaster waiting to happen. Things may get ugly, and I trust you to keep Em
safe.”

“I am honoured, and I will do my best,
Richard. Though, I do hope you are wrong about things getting worse.”

“I do not think I am wrong. My next step is
to throw myself in Lady Babbage’s path and see what she wants from an old
gardener. I wonder what job she has for me. It cannot be straightforward, and
her demands may throw more clues our way.”

Lord Raikes smiled. His friend looked more
delighted with a chance to solve a mystery than worried about any impending
danger. Gardening was an excellent occupation for the earl, no matter his
complaints.

***

The day dawned grey, wet, and thundery. The
storm had the entire household imprisoned inside.

Emma was miserable, since she would miss
her daily stroll.

The women along with Mr Barker sat in the
breakfast room, reluctant to leave its warmth.

“I am sure my nose will turn blue if I step
out of this room. The hallways are so drafty, and with the slightest dip in
temperature the walls turn to ice,” the duchess commented.

“I prefer my own modest home. These great
mansions are splendid to look at but impractical to live in. You should acquire
a smaller place. I am sure the duke will be pleased with doing away with the
expense of keeping this grand home in order,” Mrs Barker replied.

“I, for one, love this house, with all its
shivers and whistles. The duke needs to maintain this grandness, as you call
it, because his status requires him to do so. He has responsibilities to his
tenants, and he cannot abandon hundreds of people that depend on him for their
livelihood. Pass me the teapot, Cat,” Emma said irritably.

“Here you go. Does anyone know where the
earl and father are? I have not seen them all morning.”

“They had decided to go fishing today, but
I am sure this horrible rain has them ensconced in the study. Personally, I
find fishing a dreadful bore. You wake up at dawn and trudge your way up to a
pond or lake and sit in utter silence waiting for a catch. The entire process
leaves you cold, sleepy, and depressed. Now, hunting is more exciting,” Mr
Barker replied.

“Ah, some fresh, hot coffee, “the duchess
interrupted, eyeing a maid entering the room with a cleverly balanced tray of
coffee, tea, and lemon cake.

“I don’t think I want to move. I have eaten
so much, yet another cup sounds heavenly. This room is rather warm, but I think
it is the knowledge of the torrent outside that makes us feel as if we should
curl up with a posset in the corner,” Emma said gloomily.

They sat in silence, having nothing more to
offer.

Catherine wondered how she could enliven
everyone’s mood. She stared around the room, racking her brains for some
interesting game they could play without anyone having to move an inch.

“EEK!” Prudence shrieked into the calm. Her
face had turned deathly white, and she slowly lifted her finger and pointed to
a spot near the door.

“EEK!” Mr Barker and Catherine echoed,
spotting the source of Prudence’s screech.

“Good lord, it’s … it’s a mouse,” the
duchess whispered in horror.

Slowly and carefully, so as not to startle
the creature, everyone climbed onto their respective chairs.

Mr Barker went a step further by launching
himself onto the table. They stood watching the animal, not daring to breathe.

“It hasn’t moved. It is just sitting
there,” Emma whispered, after a few minutes.

“I cannot see,” Mrs Barker complained,
“what is it like?”

“Brown and small and … twitchy,” Emma
replied.

“I think he is moving,” Catherine, who was
closest to the creature, muttered, “Yes, he is … see, he is turning around, and
now …” She froze.

“… It is facing us,” finished Emma.

Everyone paused, eyes riveted towards the
mouse, waiting for it to make its next move.

After another minute of stillness on both
sides, Emma finally said, “How do you know it is a he?”

“It looks like a he,” Catherine replied.

“He is sort of cute,” Prudence said
apologetically, “Look at his wee face, with his little quivering whiskers,
staring up at us with those tiny paws outstretched.”

“Now I am sure it is a ‘he’, since we have
Prudence already in love with the thing,” Emma breathed in her cousin’s ear.

“I don’t know, he is sort of adorable,”
Catherine replied, and then loudly added, “he looks hungry.”

“He does, the poor thing. The cold outside
must have forced him to join us. Do you think we should feed him?” the duchess
asked. No one moved from their position.

Finally, Mrs Barker, tired of not being
able to see the thing for herself, decided to climb onto the breakfast table
and have a closer look. She carefully placed her knees on the edge of the
table. She heaved herself on top and straightened unsteadily. She wobbled her
way down the table, avoiding the various dishes and cups.

She had gone a few paces when she misjudged
the fourth step. Her foot landed in the dish of butter, and she went down with
a crash. Her skirts flew up, and her arms flayed in the air.

Concerned and horrified faces were
momentarily diverted from the mouse.

Mrs Barker’s voice came from within her
voluminous skirts flung over her head, “I have an idea, why don’t we throw a
bit of cheese to it?”

Relieved giggles erupted around the table.
They turned back to look towards the door.

The mouse had frozen in fright from the
noise of the crash. Not a whisker trembled as it sat exactly where he had sat
for the last ten minutes.

Prudence, being closest to the cheese,
broke off a piece and handed it to Catherine, who was in the best position to
feed the mouse.

“What should I do?” she asked nervously.

“Just throw it in the general direction.
Not too close to it, mind you, or you will frighten it away from the food. See
that spot near the side table? Now, aim it there, and hopefully the poor
starved thing will smell it,” Mr Barker ordered, from his safe position on top
of the table.

He was the only man about, and he
considered it his duty to lead the proceedings in the correct manner.

Catherine bit her lip and flung the cheese
towards the intended spot. Everyone watched the cheese as it soared high up
towards the ceiling and then fell. It fell not at its intended spot but a few
paces away from where Catherine stood.

A collective sigh echoed in the room. A
sigh full of many meanings, a sigh that spoke of their relief that the cheese
didn’t smack the mouse on its head, a sigh that was sorrowful of the fact that
the cheese was nowhere close to the mouse. A sigh that soon turned into nervous
grunts and squeals as the mouse leaped in fright at this new form of attack.