A Wager for Love Read online

  There was a short, tense pause, whilst several of the company affected not to hear, or became strangely absorbed in their footwear.

  “What, can it be that you wish to join us at our frolics perhaps, Saltaire?” responded Dashwood softly.

  There was just a suggestion of a fastidious shudder from the Earl. “Acquit me of that, Dashwood, I beg. I prefer to hunt my own quarry. not have it provided for me.”

  “A hunt which becomes increasingly difficult as your reputation spreads, eh, Saltaire?”

  The green eyes narrowed a little. “My reputation, Dashwood,” he drawled. “surely it is no blacker than your own? Besides a little difficulty always adds, shall I call it, excitement, to the chase. don’t you agree?”

  Dashwood looked a little annoyed. “Come, Saltaire, since you returned from Paris minus the charming Isabella, the tongues have never stopped wagging, and by all accounts when you were over there …”

  The Earl appeared to be lost in rapt contemplation of an extremely fine brocade coat, marvellously embroidered with humming birds, worn by a tottering exquisite. He raised his glass for a second. Dashwood’s question hung on the air. At last, apparently satisfied, he allowed the glass to swing free on its ribbon. “That, my dear Dashwood, was six years ago. Since then I have lived a life of, if not irreproachable morality, well certainly …”

  He was not allowed to finish.

  “Moral, you,” jeered Dashwood. “Lud, Saltaire, that’s rich, and what about the lady’s brother?”

  “Yes, I agree. A trifle maladroit of me, I fear I had overestimated his skill with the sword. However, he is dead and no amount of repining will bring him back to life.”

  “Repine, you?” queried March.

  One eyebrow lifted haughtily. “Did I say I repined, March? I think not. I was of course referring to his family.”

  At that moment the footman came running up bearing a large leather bound book.

  “Ah good,” cried March. “Now let’s get the wager written up.”

  It was done. Stakes called and bets laid. This accomplished to the satisfaction of all concerned, Saltaire placed one elegant hand on his friend’s arm.

  “I think it is time we took our leave.”

  “So where now, Gilles, the fair JuIianna?”

  The Earl shook his head. “I fear not, James. I grow weary. Even the fairest charmer palls after a while, do you not find? There is a tendency to become … well I fear I really must call it clinging. And one of the things I detest most is a clinging woman.”

  Ware frowned. Why must Saltaire always be so cynical? Women pursued him in droves, but it was Ware’s private opinion that for all his much vaunted rakish ways, Saltaire cared not one jot for a single one of them. However, Ware’s reflections were brought to an end by the eruption into the room of his younger brother, the Honourable Charles, patently a little high flown with wine.

  “Ah, there you are, brother,,’ Charles said genially.

  “Have you seen my friend, Arnedale?” He scanned the room a little blearily, his eyes coming to rest admiringly on the Earl. “Lud, Saltaire, emerald satin—’tis very fine.” He swept the Earl a fine bow, almost losing his balance and his wig in the process, and causing his unhappy brother to sigh a little. A painted and patched Macaroni in lilac satin and a lavender powdered wig tittered audibly behind his fan, faltering into an uneasy silence as he chanced to meet the Earl’s eyes.

  Ware watched his brother a trifle grimly. “Charles!” he remonstrated. “Really, could you not …”

  Saltaire cut in smoothly. “I fear you have missed your young friend. He left somewhat hurriedly. Badly dipped I fear.”

  A look of gloom crossed the Honourable Charles’ mobile face. “Poor Richard.” He dropped somewhat unsteadily into a chair, shaking his head dolefully. “Warned him not to play at Ordley’s table. Told him it was devilish deep. Now he’ll never get his sister off his hands,” he added.

  A gleam of humour lit the Earl’s eyes. “That was his intention was it. Tell me, Charles, was he going to stake her before or after his lands?”

  “Stake her?” Charles stared at him owlishly. “No, nothing like that, Saltaire, I assure you. The girl’s been living secluded in Italy with her grandmother, or some such thing. Richard has brought her to London to puff her off in style. They are staying with a cousin or an aunt, I forget which. or course the chit has no portion, nor likely to have.” He shrugged, “Richard will have to find a rich merchant.” His face brightened momentarily and he added, “Might be a good idea that. Saltaire. Must tell Richard, course I ain’t saying . .”

  “Charles!” cut in his brother repressively.

  “Well, she ain’t in her first youth.” put in the Honourable Charles. “She must be all of three and twenty!”

  “Positively at her last prayers.” responded the Earl gravely.

  “˜What’s that?” queried Charles a little puzzled. “At her last prayers? Oh I see, well perhaps not quite that.”

  “You relieve me, Charles. I had begun to think you must find me positively archaic.”

  A startled, almost horrified expression, crossed the younger man’s face. “I assure you, Saltaire, nothing of the kind. I wouldn’t put you a day above thirty at the most,” he offered kindly.

  “Thank you, Charles,” replied the Earl a little drily.

  “Charles!” warned his brother despairingly.

  Chapter Two

  Although the morning was fairly well advanced, one might quite reasonably have expected to find all three inhabitants of the neat house in Brook Street partaking of sustenance. In point of fact the sole occupant of the small sunny breakfast parlour was a young lady of some three and twenty summers, slightly under average height, and with a trim figure which was not really displayed to advantage by the rather faded and old fashioned dimity morning gown she was wearing. A profusion of chestnut ringlets, dressed very simply with green ribbons framed a face, which although not strictly beautiful, had a good deal of charm and character. Had she given much thought to it, Miss Lavinia Davenham would have probably declared her eyes to be her best feature. Indeed they were uncommonly large, grey and rather apt to sparkle; a warning to those who knew her best that she was about to give a show of the spirit that had led to at least one of her relatives declaring that the girl was far too hot headed. At the moment, however, her eyes were somewhat pensive, her soft mouth drooping, as she wondered what had happened to the rest of her family.

  On enquiring of the butler after her cousin, Lady Elizabeth, Lavinia was informed rather gravely by that gentleman that it was not Lady Elizabeth’s habit to rise from her bed until the hour was well past noon. With the clock showing that the hour still wanted five minutes to ten, and newness to London precluding her from taking the pleasant stroll she had been used to enjoying in Italy, Lavinia, never one to repine unduly, seated herself at the table.

  She had just finished her bread and butter and was about to pour herself a fresh cup of coffee, when the butler entered once more, this time bearing a letter which he handed to Lavinia. Puzzled she looked at it. She could think of no-one, apart from a few friends in Italy, who would be writing to her here, and indeed the writing was not familiar. Slowly she turned it over, her frown deepening as she broke the seal and perused its contents. She was just about to read it again when the door opened to admit a bleary-eyed and exceedingly ill at ease Richard.

  Lavinia eyed him with sisterly concern, putting down her letter, “Why, Richard, whatever is the matter?”

  Richard, Lord Arnedale, turned to face his sister, his boyish features haggard, his exhausted drawn pallor telling its own story. Huge dark circles rimmed his eyes. He sank into a chair, his head in his hands.

  Lavinia’s life with her grandmother had not brought her into much contact with very young gentlemen, but she was a sensible girl and one look was sufficient to assure her that this was no mere boyish prank. Seriously alarmed, she dismissed the hovering footman, and hurried to her brother’s si
de. “Richard, come and tell me, my love, what ails you?”

  He started nervously, biting his lip in distress, “Oh, Lavinia, I have been such a fool. Charles warned me, but I would not heed him. I thought I was so clever,” he added bitterly. “I wanted to do so much for you, to make up for our father’s neglect …”

  He flushed at the speaking glance she threw him from clear, grey eyes.

  “Don’t look at me so, I beg you.” Richard’s voice betrayed his self-disgust. “You see before you the most wretched of creatures. Yesterday I was the owner of our father’s estates. You would think I would be satisfied, but no.” He dropped his head into his hands, his voice muffled. “Today, I shall be lucky to retain the smallest farm on that estate. What think you of that, sister? I promised you a fine London season, and what do I give you-a cottage fit only for the meanest labourer.”

  Lavinia placed a consoling hand on his arm. “Richard, tell me all,” she coaxed.

  Hardly trusting himself to speak, haltingly at first, and then more easily, he related the night’s events. She was more dismayed than she allowed him to see. But the full force of her fury was not directed at her brother, but at the man who had so callously stripped him of all he possessed. There was a glint of anger in the spirited eyes and a decided set to the full lips. “This man, Richard, what did you say his name was?”

  Richard shrugged unhappily. “What does that signify? There was nothing to cavil at, Lavinia, it was my own fault.” He shook his head disconsolately. “I fear I can’t remember, what with the wine and everything. You must think me the veriest fool. No, wait a minute.” His forehead wrinkled. “I have it, he is the heir to the Earl of Saltaire. I remember Charles telling me that when we first went in.” He squared his shoulders. “I have until noon to redeem my vowels, otherwise I shall forfeit my lands. Still, there is no use repining. I am a fool and deserve my ill-fortune. But it is you I am thinking of, Lavinia.”

  She looked at him sadly. “Oh Richard, one of those dreadful gaming hells. They were probably using loaded dice.”

  “No, no, Lavinia, you have it wrong. I shouldn’t have been there really. Ware, Charles’ brother, got me in. They are devilish strict about membership, you see, and the play is very deep.”

  “Well, that’s as maybe, Richard, but surely all these fine gentlemen did not stand on one side and watch you being robbed?”

  Richard sighed. There was no use expecting a woman to understand the finer points of play and pay.

  “How much did you lose, Richard?” enquired Lavinia.

  “Seventy thousand guineas.” The words seemed to hang on the morning air. “There is nothing else for it,” he added glumly, “the estate will have to go.”

  Before Lavinia could say anything more, dainty footsteps in the hall heralded the arrival of Lady Elizabeth. She entered in a bustle of silks and perfume, her hair dressed high, and her face painted fit for a ball. Lady Elizabeth was a widow, and after only a few days acquaintance with her, Lavinia was of the opinion that she enjoyed the role of widow far more than she had ever enjoyed her role of wife. Indeed, the good lady had confided to Lavinia in the privacy of her boudoir not long after that young lady’s arrival in Brook Street, that she had not the slightest wish to marry again. “For I own, my love,” she had said to that somewhat startled damsel, “it is a sad truth that rich men are always covetous, disagreeable creatures. I’ve never known one yet that isn’t for ever quibbling over a mantua maker’s bill. But still, rich is better than handsome. Never marry a handsome man, my love,” she had warned. “They are not to be trusted. The first rich widow that casts out the handkerchief and they will be off.”

  However, shallow though she undoubtedly was, she had a kind heart and Lavinia liked her. No sooner had she heard of the Dowager Countess’s death and Lavinia’s return to England, than she straightaway offered the girl a home, and an entree into London society, advising her cousin that, “You may be sure, my love, that wretch, your uncle, will do nothing for you. He and that wife of his give out that they are as poor as church mice; why they hardly ever come to town, and when they do, they never open Ormond House, no they rent one, can you believe it? Of course, it is all the doing of that wife of his; her grandfather was a merchant you know. Made his fortune abroad, and she intends to keep it all intact. Why I dare swear she hasn’t had a new dress in twelve months.”

  Lady Elizabeth might be feather headed, but she had enough knowledge of society to straightaway put the correct interpretation on Richard’s glum features.

  “Why, my loves, what is afoot, pray tell me? Richard, you have been gambling. No,” she held up a cautionary hand as she saw his expression. “My poor Cedric, how often would he return here with just such an expression on his face.” She shrugged, “Still, we always came about.”

  Quickly, Lavinia related all that had happened. Contrary to her expectations Lady Elizabeth did not appear to be overly concerned. She nodded sagely. “Oh dear, hazard, was it, Richard? They play very deep at White’s. Why, the number of times Cedric told me he had seen Fox getting up from the tables after dropping five or ten thousand.” She shook her head sadly.

  Richard broke in gloomily, “I fear ‘tis far worse than that, Madam, I wish it were only a matter of five or ten thousand.”

  She eyed him in lively dismay. “Lud, Richard, how much is it then. Never say you have landed us all in a sponging house.”

  He flushed and replied a little stiffly. “Whatever happens, you and my sister will not be involved, you may be sure of that.”

  Lady Elizabeth was instantly contrite. “You foolish boy, I only wish I could help. but my allowance for this quarter is gone already.” She shrugged, an arrested expression on her face. “That reminds me. Lavinia. you must have new clothes, that gown you have on …”

  Lavinia looked down at the serviceable lemon muslin she was wearing. To be sure it was a trifle shabby, but when she had been living with her grandmother, there had been no occasion for fine gowns.

  Richard groaned. “If that isn’t just like a woman. Here I am about to be thrown into the debtors’ prison and all you can think of is a new dress.”

  Lady Elizabeth looked a little hurt. “You mistake the matter, Richard, ‘tis only that if one is well dressed and maintains a good appearance, it keeps the duns off.”

  Richard laughed harshly. “I scarcely feel …”

  Before he could finish, Lavinia broke in crisply, “Fortunately, cousin, we need not fear such an unpleasant fate. I was just about to tell you, Richard, when Elizabeth arrived. The debt will be paid, never fear.”

  Richard and Lady Elizabeth turned astonished faces in her direction. She stood with her back to the window, the sunlight gleaming on her russet ringlets, her face determined.

  “Have you run mad, sister? There is only one way I can honour my obligations, and that is by selling the estate.”

  Lavinia smiled. “I had not intended to tell you just yet, for I own I can scarcely believe it myself. I have had a letter from my grandmother’s man of business. He tells me that she has left me her fortune.”

  “What?” Richard was agape, and Lady Elizabeth fanned herself energetically. “My love, but that is most fortuitous…”

  “But, Lavinia. What of our uncle and his family? After all he was the son, our mother but her daughter.”

  Lavinia smiled. “You must know there was little love lost between the Dowager Countess and our uncle’s wife.’,

  “Well, yes,” replied Richard a trifle doubtfully. “But I never thought …”

  “No more did I,” admitted Lavinia, “She never once intimated to me that such was her intention. But there, we must not be too sanguine,” she warned. “I do not know the size of her fortune. It may be very modest.”

  “Well, Lavinia, no matter how much it is, you deserve it. None better,” declared Lady Elizabeth stoutly. “Living closeted away like a nun, and in a strange country as well.”

  Lavinia laughed. “It was not quite as bad as that,
cousin. Rome is a beautiful city, and my grandmother did entertain, although I own I sometimes longed for a few younger faces.” She wrinkled her nose ruefully. “But still, she was very good to me, especially when our father remarried. His wife did not want a step-daughter on her hands. Certainly not one only half a score years younger than herself.”

  Lady Elizabeth put a plump, soft white hand over Lavinia’s. “Oh, my dear, I have never ceased to reproach myself. If only I had known, but of course Cedric was alive

  then… .”

  Lavinia returned her smile fondly. “You have been all kindness, cousin.” She turned briskly to Richard. “That is all in the past now. Our father is dead and Richard head of the family.”

  Richard gave her a speaking look. He was undeserving of such good fortune. Until she had gone to Rome he and Lavinia had been very close. Many the whipping she had saved him from, and many a cold supper she had sneaked up to him when he had been banished for some boy’s prank. And now this. He had been full of such plans. To bring her to London, give her a season, and all the things she had missed. Of course, she never complained, but it was time she had some pleasure from life-perhaps she might even find a husband. Although, to be sure, Richard was none too sanguine about that. If only she had had a respectable portion. He heaved a sigh. He was the worst wretch alive. The Dowager’s fortune might have been sufficient to secure Lavinia a most exceptional match-and here she was planning to use it to pay his debts.

  “Richard,” Lavinia was eyeing him quizzically, “I was just telling Elizabeth that I have an appointment to see Hoare’s, our grandmother’s bankers this morning, and I was originally going to say nothing until I had returned.” There was a decided twinkle in her eye. “I fear you have been taxing yourself as to how you may best settle my future.”

  He blushed a little, but did not deny it. “Still, we can see what may best be done in that quarter once we know how much money there is, so I shall say no more on that head.”

  Richard choked, “I cannot allow you to do this, Lavinia.”