Chapter Eleven #2
Judith grinned and shifted in her seat, smoothing her skirts and arranging them around her ankles.
“She is and she is not. Adelaide is the youngest daughter of an earl. She ran away to stay with an aunt in Moravia before she could debut. Her father brought her back after the Battle of Austerlitz for safekeeping, but Adelaide had never been one to conform to the ways of the ton. She opened this tearoom for like-minded people. Her father has never disowned her, but you will not find her at many family gatherings or Society events. But the ladies of the ton value this tearoom far too much to ever give her a cut direct.”
“My best! My best!” Adelaide sang as she entered the alcove, a much younger serving girl following close behind.
Adelaide sat a silver tray before them, laden on one end and around the edges with a china teapot with a floral design, as well as matching cups and saucers, an empty bowl, a brimming pitcher of milk, and a bowl of brown, lumpy sugar.
In the center of the tray sat a tall silver urn, steam rising from the narrow spout, and a small wooden tea chest. A strainer and spoons in a neat line rested near the chest.
The serving girl waited, holding a three-tiered display of pastries, small sandwiches, and meat pies, as well as small pots of jam and clotted cream. Adelaide took it from her and nestled it beside the silver tray. She leaned back and studied the arrangement, hands on her hips. “What do you think?”
Judith nodded. “It looks delicious.”
“Should I do the tea or will you?”
Judith slipped off her gloves and draped them over her lap. “I will take care of it.”
Adelaide nodded. “Very good. I will check on you later but will mostly leave you to it. Stay as long as you please. I can provide an early supper, if needed.” Her voice dropped and she leaned closer to Judith.
“Or a late supper, if you desire. Do not be too rowdy or you will arouse too much curiosity.”
“I assure you we will be civil.”
Adelaide left, shooing the serving girl in front of her.
Rydell, who had watched Adelaide in silence but with a gleam of curiosity in his eyes, nodded toward the departed hostess. “Are you sure about our civility? I have sensed some hostility in you this afternoon.”
Judith poured a bit of hot water into the china pot and swirled it about before pouring the water into the empty bowl, resisting the urge to dump it into his lap.
She then opened the tea chest and spooned leaves into the china pot.
“And why should I not be hostile toward someone who is trying to both seduce me and ruin my family simultaneously?”
His mouth gave a sly twist. “I am not trying to ruin your family.”
“Even though that appears to be the case.”
“Appearances can most definitely be deceiving.”
“Almost always. You, for instance, have been attempting to appear the reformed rake, without much success.”
“I can assure you I am in no way reformed.”
Pursing her lips, Judith added more hot water to the pot and replaced the lid. “And before we arrived, we were discussing Edmund’s vowels. Do you or do you not hold most of his debts?”
“To be precise, At Wheel’s End holds the debts.”
“Of which you are the owner.”
“Part owner. Recent acquisition. After the majority of those debts had been incurred.” Rydell took a deep breath and twisted his torso a bit. “And Edmund, despite what he may have told you, has incurred substantial debt at several locations throughout the city.”
“His shipping investments—”
“Are not ours.”
“He said that he met—”
“One meets many people at a gaming hell. We do not screen our clientele for their legitimacy. That is not our concern.”
“He said you encouraged him toward particular businessmen.”
Rydell paused and placed a pastry, a meat pie, and a small bit of jam on the plate in front of him. He picked up a pot of clotted cream, peering at it. “This is pink.”
“It is flavored with dried raspberries, which she grinds into a powder.”
“Curious.”
“But tasty. Try some.”
He did, dolloping a mound onto the plate and tasting it hesitantly. “Hm.”
Judith rested the strainer over a cup and poured the tea, then moved to the second cup. “Edmund.”
Rydell leaned back against his chair. “Your stepson has some intriguing proclivities. Not unusual in a young man who has lost the guidance of a father. He is exploring his world and its possibilities. He is also rather injudicious about when and where he indulges those.”
She set a cup and saucer near his plate. “This sounds as if you are changing the subject.”
He reached for the milk, pouring a few drops into the tea. “Not at all. His proclivities include a fondness for odd wagers as well as other . . . unusual activities.”
Judith froze, then slowly replaced the teapot on the tray. “He has betrayed Margaret?”
Rydell cleared his throat as he stirred his tea. “Not . . . in the sense you mean. He does not bed other women.”
“Then what do you—”
“He likes to watch. Others.”
Judith felt bile rise in her throat. “Does this affect his finances?”
“Not to any great degree, although he does pay for—”
“Perhaps we should focus on his debts.”
Rydell hid a smile with a sip of tea. “His shipping investments in that Triangle Trade company happened because he bet the owner that he could guess the number of ships currently set and ready for loading, without visiting the docks themselves.”
Judith paused in adding sugar to her tea. She blinked, trying to register what she had just heard. “That is . . . madness.”
“Indeed. And, yes, I introduced them, as they both had expressed a desire to play roulette, which is—as you might infer from the name of the establishment—our primary gaming option. We recently brought over two more wheels from Paris. As the afternoon progressed, they began to bet against each other as well as against the wheel. Edmund suggested the ships bet. The owner, who recognized Edmund for the fool he is, had been down on the docks earlier that afternoon. He took the bet, with the wager being Edmund’s sizeable investment in three of his ships. ”
Judith set the sugar bowl down with a clink, staring at Rydell. “And if the owner had lost?”
“Proceeds from two cargos current waiting for unloading.”
She closed her eyes. “And Edmund did not hear the hint in that?”
Rydell shook his head. “With the amount of ale in his gut, I doubt he would have heard cannon fire.”
“Have all his bets been that outrageously spectacular?”
Rydell shrugged one shoulder. “Not all. He started with smaller wagers, for which he could easily pay. But he escalated quickly. The more he won, the more he bet—”
“And the more he lost.”
Rydell gave a quick nod. “Indeed. And he would take no advice from me, Sir Rory, or any of the more experienced gamblers. He owes money to two other hells. And many of his substantial bets were placed at White’s.
Horses. Society affairs. Who would speak first on a given day at Parliament.
He once bet on how low a top hat set on an earl’s forehead.
How long a particular gambler could balance a pint of ale on his head.
They are on the wager book there, if you would like to—” He stopped, then took a bite of one of the pastries.
“If you would like to ask one of the other members to check for you. I am fairly sure Edmund would not tell you the truth about it, and I can see you do not entirely trust me. Perhaps Lord Blackwell.”
Judith folded her hands in her lap, staring at the array of food before her, suddenly not nearly as hungry as she had been when she sat down.
Anxiety about meeting Rydell had kept her from luncheon, but the treats before her now appeared tasteless.
What a devilish web! Rydell was correct; she did not completely trust him on this.
But she heard enough truth in his statements—statements she could check with other sources—that she knew Edmund’s own deceit still had not been cleared away.
Nor had the question that had launched this inquiry been answered.
Still gazing down at the tea service, she whispered, “Why do you think—”
“Because he thought it would keep me from calling in his debts.”
Her head snapped up, eyebrows arched.
Rydell swallowed a bite. “You were going to ask about why Edmund had introduced us, were you not?”
Judith nodded.
“You have money from your husband’s estate?”
The irony did not escape her, and she grimaced. “Not as much as I did. I surrendered a great deal back to the estate to help with his . . . obligations.”
“Ah. So he achieved his aim, only in a different direction than he had intended.”
“I do not think he realized how I would react to his situation.”
“Then he does not know you as well as he thinks, if he believed you would be a passive participant in your family’s demise.”
Judith finally took a sip of the now lukewarm tea. “Apparently not.” She set down the cup. “You do know I will check your information.”
“I expected no less. I will be glad to provide the name of the shipping—”
“I have it.” When his eyebrows arched, she shrugged one shoulder.
“Edmund did not realize I would tear into our accounts with the fury of a panther. He had not thought to hide anything before I ripped into his study. Invoices. Duplicates of his wagers. Receipts of payments. Invoices. All in his desk and not in the least hidden.”
“Then I suspect he is fortunate that those ships went down carrying only crops and rum on their return to England instead of their cargo out of Africa.”