Chapter 11
Sophia enjoyed that final game immensely, and it completely eclipsed the anxieties swirling in her mind.
She could not escape them forever, but she could put her fears aside while she played.
Mr. Belvedere—although he claimed to have been a careless student at Cambridge—was an excellent strategist and apparently had a good head for numbers.
She suspected he was a better player than her, but Caroline was also superior to Anne, and so their two teams were a fine match of skill.
Along with the luck of the deal, of course.
“You would be an excellent clerk or bookkeeper,” Sophia commented to Mr. Belvedere. “You seem to keep all the combinations in your head at once.”
“Not more so than you, ma’am,” he said. “You might be an accomptant.”
“I might, if I was not a woman.” It was a shame that accounting, estate management, and book-keeping were not considered women’s work—she felt she might have done well at that.
She re-focused on the game. It could not be denied that a large part of cribbage was luck, but far less than roulette or faro or other games that men wagered large sums upon in gaming hells.
That was another job she thought she might have been good at: running a gaming house.
But that required both capital and a descent in society that would be even more impossible to reverse that what she had already done.
Caroline’s eyes were sharp with concentration, while Anne was serious, but nervous.
She looked as if she expected someone to turn on her the moment she made a poor play—even if it was not her fault.
Despite the competitive energy, they all three were tacitly united in treating her kindly, and even Mr. Belvedere did not need the quiet threat in Captain Wentworth’s gaze to be uniformly encouraging.
In the end, it came down to the dealer’s crib—those last four cards which were hidden until the end—and Mr. Belvedere was the dealer.
He turned over each card slowly, with his eyes on Sophia.
The others in the dining room may as well have disappeared as she held his gaze, unwilling to back down.
Sophia felt a little breathless and light-headed by the time he had turned over the last. He had not even glanced at them as he laid them out.
Somehow it was as intimate as if he had kissed her in public.
Finally, he smiled and looked down. Everyone’s eyes fell to the four cards. There was silence as they all contemplated—were there any pairs, triplets, fifteens, aces, or face cards?
Slowly a smile grew on his face. “It is enough.” He rechecked his work for them, pointing at each combination, and they tabulated the points as a group. “I believe I have won, ma’am.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes, searching the cards for a mistake. He was right. She hadn’t been beaten at a run of cards in a very long time. She gave a heavy sigh. “I concede. I suppose that is my punishment for wagering.”
“I’m sorry,” Anne said.
“No, please don’t apologize,” Sophia protested. “I am disappointed but not devastated. I must have the true gambler’s temperament—I could lose all week and still be foolishly confident I will win tomorrow.” She held out her hand to Anne. “Will you shake to a good game?”
“Certainly; it was a very good game. I think if Mr. Belvedere and I had not had some luck there at the end, you and Caroline would have had it.”
Sophia pressed her hand gently. “No, you mustn’t pass it all off as luck. Both of you played very well!”
Caroline looked more annoyed than anyone, but she tried to shake it off. “How I hate to lose! My sister, Louisa, would make such game of me. That is, she did so until I learned to beat her, then she would no longer play. I suppose it is good for me to lose, or some such moral lesson as that.”
“I never said so,” Richard protested.
Mr. Belvedere congratulated Anne and then held his hand out to Sophia. “No hard feelings?”
She could hardly refuse to shake hands after instigating the ritual. She took his hand, and he shook hers once, firmly, as men did when sealing a bargain. “To a worthy opponent.”
“I—I hope so.” She was startled by how large and warm his hand felt around hers. “Oh, and I owe you five pounds. Excuse me.”
She went into her dark cabin and shut the door, pressing her cold fingers to her warm cheeks. She did not know why he should make her blush. He was bold and impulsive but that was because he was young—barely out of school! It was ridiculous to let a boy’s attentions rattle her.
When she was less flushed, she fished her five-pound coin out of a woolen stocking among her unmentionables. She had thirty-five shillings other than this. Perhaps she could win it back before Lisbon…
He took the coin with a good grace, tucking it away in a coat pocket without making a large to-do. Perhaps he realized he had been a little too forward, a little beyond the bounds of propriety.
The only unhappy note was when the captain joined them. He looked dour about the whole thing. “I don’t know what you are about,” he said to Captain Wentworth, “to let that bounder rob a lady in broad daylight, in addition to what he has done in secret!”
Captain Wentworth shook his head. “I hope that is not so, but this, at least, was above board. And it was Mrs. Scott who suggested the wager; I was hardly in a position to protest.”
The captain shook his head. “Unless another culprit is found, I shall lay information against that young man the moment we reach Lisbon.”
Sophia hoped Mr. Belvedere had not overheard the captain, but she was proved wrong the following morning.
For a man who had previously claimed—during a conversation about town hours—that he did not rise before noon if he could help it, he was often awake early.
He joined Sophia again just as the sun began to break the horizon.
He planted his hands on the gunwale as the ship rocked in the dark waves.
It had rained the night before, leaving the deck wet and slick.
The sky was low with clouds also, quite unlike the sunny days that had just passed.
Sophia had not yet felt a drop, but it looked very much like more rain would come soon.
“Couldn’t sleep again?” Mr. Belvedere asked. “Or do you merely haunt the deck all night, and we have not noticed?”
“I am accustomed to rising early. But you are not, so what is your excuse? A guilty conscience?”
He gave her a strange, hurt look.
She grimaced. “Oh! I meant that as a joke—because you won five pounds off me!—not because of this necklace business.”
“Ah. This necklace business is indeed a problem. I thought to let it ride, but—I really think it must be dealt with.”
Sophia stared at him. “You thought to let it ride—do you mean that you know what happened?”
“Yes, I think I do know what happened, and—although you did not ask—no, I did not take it.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”
Warmth came over her cold hand, and she looked down to see that he had covered her bare hand with his. The wind swallowed her gasp. She glanced at him in shock. “Mr. Belvedere?”
“Shaking your hand wasn’t enough.” His thumb glided over hers. It was a shock and an enticement. His hand was so much bigger than hers, as she’d noticed yesterday. She hadn’t thought of him this way, or she had tried not to, since he was rather younger than her…
But now his whole face had a different cast. His eyes were serious; his expression more mature, more thoughtful.
Even his voice was different. Was she going mad? Was this the same baby-faced youth they’d had in their midst?
“I have a question for you,” he said. “How much do you dislike Lady Marston?”
“What?” She tried to marshal her thoughts and guess his purpose. “I don’t dislike her.”
“Oh, let’s not keep lying if we don’t need to. I thought we might make a good team.”
“Is this—about cards?”
“Cards? Why would it be about cards?”
“Our wager?
“Oh, ha—no. Although we are an amazing pair at cards. This is about another sort of partnership.”
Sophia finally drew her hand away. “That is beyond the line, sir. You are insulting.”
“I’m not offering you a slip on the shoulder. I may be a bounder, but I’m not a cad.”
“Then—I’m confused. And I am on the brink of returning below, so you had best get to the point if there is one.”
“Here it is, Mrs. Scott. Sophy—may I call you Sophy?”
“No.”
“Ah, pity. Well, here it is. I am the only one who knows for certain that I did not disturb the mail or take the blasted amethysts. Which means the only other likely culprit—based on the captain’s deductions and my own—is you.”
“That is absurd. What would I want in the mail or with the necklace? I am not a fool or a—a thief.”
“Not a fool, certainly, but if it is not me, and the captain is convinced it’s not his men, logic would dictate—”
She scoffed. “As if you have more than a passing acquaintance with logic.”
“Touché. But I assure you, I have a little more brains than I care to take credit for. Which is why I ask—how much do you dislike Lady Marston? She certainly dislikes you, so I can only imagine it is mutual. Is this your way of punishing her? I’ve no objection—or I wouldn’t, if I wasn’t being eyed for it.
And the bird. Was that really necessary?
Pretty harsh on that poor boy. Heard him crying. ”
“I didn’t! I wouldn’t.”
“I hope not. It is all too shady by half, but I wouldn’t pursue it if I wasn’t being made the scapegoat of all.”
“I am not punishing Lady Marston; I did not hurt that parrot; I did not take the necklace.”
“Oh?” He gave her a smile that was a far cry from his usual. “I am offering you a deal. If you have a plan, cut me into it, and I will help you. I am already condemned, so I may as well be in the payoff.” He moved his hand to rest next to hers again, their pinkies touching.
She moved her hand away at once. “There is no plot, sir, no deal to be made. I may’ve encouraged you—that was my mistake—but I won’t be your flirt. When I have time to reflect, I suspect I shall feel greatly insulted.”
“Yes, very good, well said—but what do you intend to do with the necklace? Do you mean for it to be found before we reach Lisbon? Is this merely to teach the old dragon a lesson in manners—or do you intend to run off with it in Lisbon? It could fetch a tidy sum if it is as fine as she says, but you have to know your way around a fence.”
“Do you know your way around a fence?”
“I could hardly admit to it, could I?” He momentarily assumed his usual manner. “Why, I’ve had to spout my watch on occasion at a pawn shop, but I’ve never played Jack-in-the-box.” He laughed. “Come, Sophia, what’s your plan? The necklace, I understand, but the mail? What was the goal?”
“You are delusional.”
“Was the mail nonsense perpetrated by someone else? Ah, and you just used the cover provided by the rumpus to take the necklace? Clever.”
“How old are you?” Sophia demanded. It was perhaps not the most pressing question of the hour, but somehow she couldn’t go forward without an answer. The difference in his manner was marked.
His mouth twitched. “Twenty-nine.”
“No. Really?”
“Yes, I didn’t lie about my face confusing people. I can pass for much younger, and people look with more lenience on an overgrown, bumbling youth, than a large, unknown gentleman.”
“And—are you a gentleman?”
“By some definitions of the word, ma’am! Can I in turn ask if you are a lady?”
“Yes, I am. By most definitions of the word. Did you go to Cambridge?”
“Lived there for four years. And were you really married?”
“Yes. Seven years.”
His countenance fell a little. “Oh. I am sorry, I thought perhaps that was part of the ruse.”
“There is no ruse, but you needn’t be sorry; I am better off.”
“In that case…” He deliberately took her hand and placed it back on the gunwale, covering it with his. “You mustn’t lose your grip in these rising waves. The deck is wet and slick.”
“Mr. Bel—is you name even Belvedere?—you have greatly mistaken the matter. Do you intend to accuse me of thievery to Colonel Fitzwilliam and Captain Wentworth? I don’t think they’ll believe you.”
“Oh no, far be it from me to throw stones. Glass houses and all that.”
“Is this—some sort of blackmail? If you think I’ll allow what I haven’t before just because you threaten me—”
“Good saints, Sophy, I might play a role, but I’m not a villain. I would never coerce a woman like that.”
“Then…” She wiggled her hand under his questioningly.
He sighed. “If you will go about being beautiful and clever and cunning—and not wearing gloves—you really ask too much of me. And I thought, in all seriousness, you might need to know you have a friend on board.”
“Sir Mark and Lady Marston—”
“If they are your friends, I’ll eat my cravat.” He threaded his fingers through hers. “I may be a schemer, but I’m not a rakehell or a peep-of-day boy—I’ll help you if I can.”
“Do you think I’ll split the money with you—if there was money?”
“Well, if you’re offering—”
“There is no theft! You’ve mistaken the matter. And do you think this is in the nature of comforting a friend?” She flipped her hand to hold his, and her thumb stroked over the palm of his hand once.
His eyes—still so appealing despite his suspicions of her—flickered in excitement. “Well—”
“I’m not sure you’ve had many friends, if you think they act like this.
” She removed her hand from his firmly. “Thank you for the offer of help. I suppose if I was as lost to all morals as you think, it would be welcome—but you are fully mistaken. You say you didn’t steal the necklace, and I believe you.
I wish you would extend me the same courtesy. ”
His face twisted oddly. “We’re over halfway to Lisbon. If you change your mind, let me know.”
“Excuse me, sir, ma’am,” one of the sailors called to them, “the barometer has been dropping all night, and the waves are getting dangerous. We’re securing the hatches. You had best get below; it’s going to be a good squall.”
“What about the goat?” Mr. Belvedere asked.
“Oh, we’ll secure her below, sir. After you, please.”