Chapter 5
ALEXANDER
“Impossible!” Barnett bellowed, pounding on the table and standing.
I lifted one eyebrow, looking confused and indignant. “How is it impossible, pray tell? My three kings beat your sequence.” I paused. “Yours is a good second,” I added, wanting to twist the knife a little.
“But—but you were not supposed to have a tricon,” he sputtered. “Your cards—” He stopped speaking, realizing he was talking himself into a corner.
“Cards you dealt. From your own hand. Cards you opened in front of everyone. Are you saying they are wrong?” I taunted.
“No, of course not.” He wiped his brow, clearly distraught. “Another hand. I insist.”
“What have you left?” I asked carefully, tempted beyond measure. “Surely you are not willing to risk this fine estate,” I mocked.
Edward narrowed his eyes at me, warning me not to push this.
“Milton Manor—the country estate next to yours. I have no use for it.”
I had to laugh. “It has been deserted for years, Barnett. The house, or what is left of it, is crumbling—even worse than the scrub brush you have on the table at the moment. The land you have not yet sold is dry and unusable. It has no value or sentimental reason for me to risk what I have earned here.” I ran my hands over the winnings. “As tempting as it is.”
“You must.”
“There is nothing I must do,” I said, a warning note in my voice. “I won the pot. I was willing to walk earlier, and you insisted. You knew the risk.”
He sat down, defeated. I glanced around, a small fissure of guilt hitting me.
I had taken everything. It wasn’t him I was worried about, but his servants.
The innocents who would suffer. The villagers to whom he no doubt owed for this party.
The butcher, the grocer. They would suffer because he had squandered all the money.
I stood. “Contact my solicitor, Barnett. Make a fair offer on the estate, and I will purchase it. Do not risk any more debt.”
He glared. “I do not need your charity.”
I was puzzled. “You would rather lose another hand, more money, than make an honest trade? Cash for the land and house you agree is worthless.”
“And why are you being so charitable?” he demanded.
Aside from Edward and the old butler, we were alone, the last of the players having become bored and seeking brandy and their own company rather than watch the game between us.
The hour was late, and I, too, was tired and wanted this evening over.
I got what I came for. My land and apparently a new servant.
I had no need to add more hard times to this man—even though I disliked him intensely.
“Because I have grown weary and have lost my taste for the game. Perhaps I can salvage something at Milton Manor—at least, what is left of it.”
“No.”
I shrugged and stood, Edward moving forward to take my winnings from the table. “I will bid you good night, then.”
I left him at the table, grabbing the cards, muttering to himself.
He would never figure out how the deck was misprinted.
He couldn’t demand retribution without showing his own misdeeds.
He couldn’t accuse me of anything for the same reason.
It had taken us a long time to figure out the codes and break them, as well as produce an exact match to the cards so he couldn’t tell them apart.
We went upstairs, shutting my door behind me.
“This could get disagreeable if he manages to figure it out.”
“I am aware.”
“I suggest we leave before daylight.”
I nodded, scrubbing my hand over my face. “I believe you are correct, my friend.”
“He can prove nothing without implicating himself. There would be a long line of angry gentlemen after him if word got out he had been duping these games. His life would be forfeit, I think.”
“I know. But best to be safe.”
“I will replace our deck of cards with a duplicate of his own before we leave. He will be even more baffled.”
“Good.” I lit a cheroot, needing the calming action. I exhaled by the window, staring into the darkness.
“And what of the girl?” he asked. “What are your plans?”
The housekeeper had come and removed her from the room once play began again. I recalled her face. The delicate beauty. The painfully thin form under the too-big gown. The terror in her eyes.
“Part of me wants to leave her here. She is not any of my concern. But…” I trailed off, once again her anxiety pushing against my thoughts.
“I assume Mrs. Dougall could find a place for her within the household. Or perhaps a situation with Beckett in London. His new wife is a gentle sort. She would be safe there. Or the village. She could find work there if I vouch for her.”
“I do not think she would make it on her own,” Edward stated quietly. “There is something infinitely…fragile about her.”
“London, then.” I decided. It would be best if she weren’t close. She was distracting in a different sort of way—a displeasing one. I had a feeling that distraction might be my downfall.
MADELEINE
In the storeroom, I attended to my evening duties with only half a mind on the organizing of the goods we had received earlier from the village.
They were meager, and I doubted they would be sufficient to accommodate my father’s guests for more than a day or perhaps two at best. But maybe the guests would be leaving soon if their sport was at an end.
The thought made a chill sweep over me just as the familiar footsteps of Mrs. Wells cut through the stillness of the air.
The housekeeper stopped at the threshold to the small room, her face as unreadable as a mask. “Lord Barnett requires you in the drawing room again, girl.”
This summons was no different from the last. However, a few hours before, I hadn’t any notion of what awaited me. Now, I did. My breath caught.
Instinctively, I knew that the game was over. My fate had been decided whilst I had been tending to the flour and sugar.
“Of course, Mrs. Wells.” I curtsied.
Her eyes narrowed. “You will return to completing your evening tasks after his lordship has finished with you.”
“Yes, Mrs. Wells.”
She nodded and then moved aside, allowing me to pass.
I buried my gloved hands into my well-worn gown, gripping my skirts tightly as I passed through the halls to the servants’ stairs. My stomach roiled with each step that took me closer to the drawing room.
What if the men who had assembled were still gathered round the table? What if the Marquess of Wheaton remained? How would I face them? More importantly, how would I face him?
I was spared from further worry when I reached the drawing room and found it empty, save my father.
He was seated alone at a table strewn with cards and markers, his thinning gray hair mussed as if he had been passing a hand through it relentlessly.
His gaze was lowered, pinned upon the cards in disbelief.
Tobacco smoke and sour wine heavily tinged the air.
“Mrs. Wells said you had need of me, my lord,” I managed, trepidation making my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth.
Mere hours before, I had been brought here roughly before an audience of strange men, presented as a sacrificial lamb. I feared I already knew the outcome of the game.
“You,” he said harshly, his lip curling in a sneer. “Why are you lingering at the threshold? Come in, curse you.”
I did his bidding, offering him a curtsy. “What may I do for you, your lordship?”
“Sit,” he commanded.
I folded myself into a chair at the opposite end of the table, intentionally keeping myself beyond his reach.
Although he had spoken few words, I could hear the telltale slur in his words.
His eyes were glazed and bloodshot. By now, I was more than familiar with the signs of dissipation.
The deeper he fell into his cups, the angrier he became.
And I had no wish to bear the brunt of his rage this night.
I settled my gloved hands in my lap and waited, offering up a silent prayer that I would be spared.
“Such a slovenly baggage,” he sneered. “You’ve been nothing but a burden to me all your life, girl.”
My father was a hateful, unhappy man. But I was numbed to his vitriol.
“Forgive me. It was never my intention to burden you.”
He slammed his fist down on the table with so much force that I winced. “Such unbridled cheek. Show some humility.”
I bowed my head, staring at my entwined hands, trying to keep them from trembling. “Yes, your lordship.”
“Mrs. Wells has warned me repeatedly that you are slothful.”
The housekeeper’s hatred of me was not new. I had learned that I could not change it. No matter how diligently I worked, she was never satisfied. Still, I knew better than to argue with my father.
I kept my head lowered. “Yes, my lord.”
“Mrs. Wells has also reported that your appearance is never that befitting a maid in a grand household such as Cliffwood. She says that you have invited sinful gazes from the footmen.”
I lifted my chin, daring to meet my father’s irate glare. “I have never behaved in an indecorous fashion, my lord.”
“Silence!” he bit out, rapping on the table again, sending the wine yet in his goblet sloshing violently. “Have I given you leave to speak?”
I bit my lip.
“Hold your tongue, girl. You have disgraced me, burdened me, and taken advantage of my generosity for long enough. As of this evening, you will no longer be a millstone around my neck.”
I inhaled sharply at his cutting revelation.
It was over, then. My father had lost me in a game of cards. I was to be sent away with the marquess.
“Father,” I entreated. “Please, you cannot mean to send me from Cliffwood.”
His nostrils flared. “I haven’t a choice in the matter. Wheaton defeated me. The bastard cheated, I’ve no doubt of it. But as a gentleman of honor, I have no recourse other than to acknowledge him as the victor.”
Panic seized me in its relentless hold. I wouldn’t miss my father. But I would mourn Lydia and Geraldine. I didn’t want to go with Lord Wheaton. I couldn’t. I had to find a way to remain.
“If he cheated,” I began, “then surely there is something that can be done.”
“Do you dare to gainsay me?” my father snarled. “Nothing can be done, and Cliffwood will be the better for your absence.”
“No,” I whispered. “I beg of you, please don’t send me from here.”
“It is done,” he said with cold finality. “You belong to the marquess. Now be gone from my sight. I never want to see you again.”
Trying to stifle a sob, I rose from the chair and curtsied again. As I retreated, a string of vile curses followed me. I had no doubt that my father would spend the rest of the evening getting thoroughly soused.
But there would be no such oblivion for me.
My life had just been forever altered, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
ALEXANDER
“The preparations have been made for departing Cliffwood in the morning before dawn,” Edward reported as we reconvened in my chamber.
I nodded. “Excellent.”
“The cards have been changed. It took me a while, as the old fool obviously had a fit of anger and tossed them all about. I had to be sure to find all ours and replace them with the ones we switched out. But it is done, and there is nothing he can do to prove he was not too in his cups to read his own fake cards correctly.”
“That is good news indeed, my friend.”
“We will be gone soon.”
Relief settled over me. It was nigh to midnight. Nearly two hours had passed since my victory in the drawing room, and I itched with the need to leave this place.
A soft knock startled us, and Edward went to the door, opening it, then admitting an older servant.
She dipped into a curtsy. “Forgive the intrusion, my lord.”
“The hour is late. What is it that could not wait until morning?”
“Only the master is furious. In his study, drinking and cursing. That never bodes well for Madeleine.”
“Madeleine?”
“Miss Madeleine Smythe, the girl he wagered to you,” she said with a sad shake of her head. “Please, my lord, I beg of you, take her when you go. If you leave her here, I fear for her.”
“She is his daughter. Surely—”
She interrupted me. Something that surprised me since few dared to do so. “She will suffer even more so because of that,” she pleaded. She grabbed my elbow, looking terrified. “You have no idea, my lord. Please take her. Even being ruined is better than the life she has.”
I was shocked at her forwardness and sickened at the thought of what this young girl’s life must be like. I made a fast decision. “I will take her, but you must accompany us. I refuse to ruin her.”
She shook her head in wonder. “You are a good man, my lord. And the little mistress is a rare gem.”
“We will leave an hour before dawn. She can take only what she can carry.”
“She has little to take, my lord. I have only a small bag.”
“Be at the stable, then, at the appointed hour.”
She turned, then paused and looked at me, tears in her eyes. “Bless you, sir. You have saved her. You have saved both of us.”
Edward smirked at me after she departed. “It is a good thing we brought the carriage and the horses, then.”
I waved my hand. “I will ride with you. The women can have the carriage. I will assist you loading it. We will have to be quiet.”
“The amount of drink consumed tonight, I doubt we will disturb many.”
“I pray you are right.”
“We return to Wheaton?”
“Yes. I have no desire to venture to London. The marriage season is winding up, and I want nothing to do with the anxious mamas and their darling debutantes. God spare me.”
Edward laughed.
“The country suits me best.”
He nodded in agreement, clapping me on the back.
“Both of us, my lord. Both of us.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’ll go now to rest a while. Dawn will come early.”
“Thank you, Edward.”
He threw me a wink. “Always, my lord.”