Chapter 8
Alastair beamed triumphantly as he slapped the cards down.
“I can’t see you getting anything better than that,” he declared.
Edmund Hale sighed and laid his cards down, pushing them away from him.
“What do you do for all this luck to occur? It’s like the cards do exactly as they’re told.”
Alastair laughed.
“I don’t think that’s the case.”
“Really? Are you sure you’re not cheating and slipping cards up your sleeves?”
“I’ll play without my jacket and with my sleeves rolled up, if you want.”
Edmund held up a hand to indicate he wasn’t going to go that far, pushing what he’d bet toward him. Alastair scooped it in his direction, taking a generous swig of his brandy.
Now he was feeling more in a good mood. Edmund was right that he was normally good when it came to any card games, but Alastair wouldn’t say it was because he was lucky.
He was just sharp when it came to what could be to his advantage.
He didn’t bet above what he could afford, either, choosing to tiptoe through the earlier bets.
There were a few times when he hadn’t done the sensible option, but they had worked out for him. Not so much for others, though.
That made him think about the last Viscount Fairleigh.
He hadn’t been good at cards at all, but he liked to play, and he just kept getting ahead of himself.
He probably felt a rush at the idea he was close to winning, but his luck was terrible.
Alastair had had to put a stop to it the last time they saw each other because of it.
Only a few hours later, the man was dead. And his daughter was certain that Alastair had something to do with it.
“Alastair?” Edmund waved a hand near his face. “Are you there?”
“Hmm?”
“Aren’t you going to deal again?”
“Oh.” Alastair put the cards down. “Sorry, I’m just thinking of something else.”
“Like what?” Edmund tilted his head to one side. “Is there something I can help with?”
He contemplated it. Edmund was his friend, and he did have a lot of contacts that could be useful, but Alastair wasn’t sure if he could open up to him about what was going on. Arabella wouldn’t be impressed by him asking for help from Edmund.
Maybe it could work, but he had to consider the options. Edmund was good at finding out gossip, but he could also create it.
He was starting to wander off in his own thoughts again, and he shook himself.
“Not right now.” He finished his brandy and signaled a footman to join them. “I guess I’m just tired. I’m going to retire for the night.”
“Retire?” Edmund raised his eyebrows. “This early?”
“I’ve got to do something, otherwise I’m going to do something stupid.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
Alastair rolled his eyes and stood up, allowing the footman to gathering his winnings into several velvet bags.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Usual place?”
“Of course.” Edmund sat back and shook his head. “Now you’re going to have to leave me in Sebastian’s company. I’m not too keen about talking to him.”
“Why not?”
“Because he keeps going on and on about how good he is at card games, and how satisfying it is to take money off people he dislikes.” Edmund made a face.
“Before you arrived, he was swanning around the room taking compliments about how good he is at cards, how he should open his own place and it would be a success.”
Alastair sighed. Sebastian normally played well, and he was just sneaky not to show when he’d lost badly, but to open his own card place was almost laughable.
Sebastian had his own rules, and he wouldn’t appreciate anyone ignoring them.
He was not a good employer if the way he treated his servants was anything to go by.
“I’m good at cards,” he pointed out. “But nobody seems too interested in asking me to open up a gambling hall.”
“Don’t ask me, but I’d certainly go.” Edmund sat forward suddenly, his expression keen. “You’re heading home, then?”
“I said so, didn’t I?”
“Would you send my greetings to Helena? I haven’t seen her in a while, and I wondered if she was doing well.”
Alastair frowned. It was normal for his friend to ask after Helena, but something about it this time felt different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and it was odd.
“I will, but you only saw her a couple of days ago, didn’t you? At the garden party?”
“I know, but…” Edmund blushed, and he shifted in his chair. “I just wanted to…you know…”
“I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten me?”
His friend’s face was getting redder and redder. Alastair wasn’t sure if he should laugh or question this reaction. He was too tired to ask further about it. That could wait until another time. Nodding at the footman, Alastair turned away.
“I’ll let Helena know of your…greetings. Goodnight, Edmund.”
“Goodnight.”
There was too much for Alastair to think about, more important than what Edmund was up to regarding Helena.
He knew they were close, and Edmund looked out for Helena, especially when they were younger, but something had changed recently.
He couldn’t be sure what it was, but Alastair hoped that his friend wasn’t looking to be romantic with Helena.
Edmund was not exactly what he would want for a brother-in-law with his previous courtships.
He needed to talk to his sister about it.
He clambered into his carriage and sat back as it trundled back to his townhouse, his mind turning over.
Edmund might’ve been thinking about Helena, but Alastair had been thinking about Arabella.
He couldn’t stop her from invading his thoughts, and it had become a distraction.
It was a miracle that he hadn’t lost heavily because of it.
Why couldn’t he direct himself elsewhere?
What was it about Arabella that made him think about her so much?
Alastair was still smarting from being accused of murder, but he could see her point of view.
She just wanted answers, and there were too many questions that hadn’t been explained about Fairleigh’s death.
He wished he could help her out more. Maybe give her the answers she desperately needed. Although he didn’t really know where to start.
Perhaps he should get some of his servants to ask around discreetly. Servants and the lower classes were very good at getting information because nobody thought them worthy enough to pay them any attention. That would work to his advantage.
Alastair’s plan was forming in his head as he got back to the townhouse, still sorting out the finer details.
He shut the door and handed his coat and hat to his butler, who padded away silently.
Alastair yawned, feeling tiredness wash over him.
He needed to get to bed. It was calling for him, and he was looking forward to sinking into the softness.
“Alastair!”
He groaned. The dowager duchess was storming across the foyer toward him.
“Mother? I thought you’d retired for the night.”
“Not when we’re got something important to discuss.” Lady Hartwood folded her arms and glared at him, fury glittering in her eyes. “You’ve been avoiding me for some time now. We’re going to talk right this second.”
“I’m going to head upstairs…”
“You’ll do no such thing!” His mother stepped in his way as Alastair tried to go around her. “We have to talk about Lady Arabella.”
Alastair suspected this was the case. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I’m not going to have this conversation, Mother.”
“Why on earth would you choose someone like her?”
“That’s my business. It has nothing to do with you.”
Lady Hartwood looked stunned that he would say such a thing. Her cheeks were bright red with her anger.
“Nothing to do with me? You’re thinking of marrying someone with her reputation?”
“What reputation?” he challenged. “You mean the reputation her father had? The fact he ruined the family with his actions? That’s nothing to do with Arabella. As far as I’m concerned, she’s innocent.”
“The sins of the father infect the rest of the family!” Lady Hartwood declared.
Alastair scoffed at that.
“That’s just ridiculous. She’s not the previous viscount, is she? It’s not her fault. She’s got an impeccable reputation of her own, and she’s a perfectly nice young lady. You should be happy that I haven’t chosen someone who’s interested in just my money.”
The dowager duchess still looked outraged. She pressed her lips tightly together, and Alastair could tell she was trying to keep her temper.
“So you just decided to court her, then? Without consulting me about it?”
“I’m a grown man. I don’t need to consult you about who I want to be romantically involved with.”
“You do when it comes to my family’s own reputation!”
Alastair’s head was beginning to hurt. This was getting them nowhere, and he wasn’t interested in having an argument at this time of night. He stepped around his mother quickly before she could react and headed toward the stairs.
“I’ve got this handled, Mother. I don’t care if you don’t like it. I’m allowed to make up my own mind on things.”
“You think I’m just going to let you go like that?” Lady Hartwood shouted up the stairs after him.
There was something in the way she said it that made Alastair pause. He was perfectly aware of how vindictive his mother could be, although she’d mellowed in recent years. He turned and watched her carefully.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that I’ll make sure that you can’t court her any further, let alone marry her.” The dowager duchess sniffed, lifting her chin and giving him a hard stare. “You think I’m going to let this happen? You and Lady Arabella won’t be able to continue once I’m done.”
Alastair felt his skin prickling. He moved back down the stairs, the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.
“Are you threatening me, Mother?” he said, his voice barely a growl. “Are you insinuating that you would ruin something for me to get your own way?”
“Nothing of the sort.” Lady Hartwood didn’t blink. “I’m just warning you.”
“That sounded like a threat. And I’m not interested in being threatened.” Alastair glowered at her. “What are you going to do? Create rumors and spread around that Lady Arabella has been seen in an intimate embrace with another gentleman, and that she has a questionable past?”
His mother blinked before her eyes widened. She clearly faltered at that, indicating that Alastair had hit close to the mark.
“What… but… how…”
“I’m your son. I know how you work, and I’ve seen you do it before.
” Alastair did his best to fight back the rage building in his chest. “I can’t believe you would ruin something of mine just to get your own way.
Just because I’m not looking to Miss Linton as being the woman I should be romantically involved with. ”
“She’s a far better choice than Lady Arabella!”
“Not in my opinion.”
Alastair almost said that this was why he claimed he was courting someone else, but he stopped himself in time. He shook his head at his mother, who still looked defiant.
“If you’re willing to ruin my personal life, you go right ahead. But you can be confident in knowing that I have ways of dealing with you as a result.”
“Dealing with me?” Lady Hartwood faltered a little. “What do you mean by that?”
“I could send you away. To one of the more… obscure estates in the country. Or, perhaps, I can send you to the Americas? We’ve got some distant relatives there, so you won’t be alone, but you’ll be as far away from me as I can get you.”
Now the dowager duchess was looking panicked. She shook her head violently.
“No! You can’t do that to me! I’m your mother!”
“And if you mess around with my personal life, you’re going to suffer the consequences.
I won’t have you ruining things for me, especially not when it comes to Arabella.
” Alastair leaned toward her. “If I hear of any rumor about her reputation being sullied, I’ll know exactly where it came from. Then I’ll follow through.”
“Are you threatening me?”
His mouth twitched, and he drew back.
“You’re quite happy to do the same. I don’t see why you should be any different.”
“I’m your mother!” she cried.
“And I’m your son, but you have no qualms with threatening my current courtship.
You can’t always get what you want by manipulating the situations.
” Alastair turned away. “Have a think about it. If you’re still intent on going through with your plan, I’ll make sure you’re out of London before the day’s out. Goodnight, Mother.”
He could hear the woman spluttering as he ascended the stairs, and there was a sense of satisfaction as he strode down the hallway to his suite of rooms. Heaving a sigh of relief as he shut the door, Alastair closed his eyes and waited for his anger to abate.
That wasn’t going to help anyone, but after what he heard from his mother, he couldn’t help himself.
Arabella didn’t deserve to be treated in such a way. His thoughts and opinions of her didn’t matter when it came to someone’s reputation. Nobody messed with that simply to get someone into trouble. That was childish, and his mother had to know that.
Hopefully, his threat of sending her away would be enough to keep Arabella safe. Alastair didn’t want to punish his own mother for her actions, but he would if it made sure Arabella wasn’t caught in the middle of this mess more than she already was.