Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager

‘My dear ma’am, we have no evidence that there is anything wrong with the woman at all, save that she has beaten Gerald at cards. And even that is not to be wondered at. If I remember rightly he was never that sharp.’

Gloriana’s eyes snapped angrily.

‘You are too cruel, Markham. The boy is almost ten years your junior and lacks your worldly experience. And now, when I ask, nay, beg you to help him, you can do nothing but jest.’ She broke off, dragging a wisp of lace from her pocket and dabbing at her eyes.

Jasper regarded her in exasperation as he saw his dinner at the Hare and Hounds slipping away. However, beneath his insouciant exterior he was quite fond of Gerald, so he gave in with a faint shrug.

‘Very well, ma’am, I can as easily stop at Bath tonight as at Corsham. I will seek out Gerald and find out just what is afoot.’

Gently brushing aside her grateful effusions and the belated offer of a glass of ratafia, Jasper took his leave of Gloriana and headed for York House.

He arrived at the busy Bath hotel before five o’clock, in good time to bespeak rooms and dinner. Then, having changed his travel clothes for the coat and knee-breeches that were still the required evening dress for Bath, he sallied forth in search of Gerald Barnabus.

Susannah looked around the drawing room with satisfaction. It was filling up nicely and most of the little card tables were occupied.

‘Another good turn-out.’

Susannah heard the murmur and found Kate Logan at her side. Kate was a widow and past her thirtieth year, although she looked younger and her stylish gown of bronze satin with its matching turban drew many a gentleman’s eye. Susannah knew Kate was well aware of her attraction and used it to advantage at the card table, although she never succumbed to any gentleman’s advances. She continued now in her habitual slow drawl, ‘There is a ball at the Lower Rooms tonight, so doubtless many will take themselves off there at ten and then we can get down to business.’

Susannah shushed her with a look and said in a voice of mock severity, ‘There is no business here, Mrs Logan. We merely invite a few friends to enjoy a game of cards.’

Kate gave a knowing smile.

‘That is what I meant, Susannah.’

‘Of course,’ added Susannah innocently, ‘some of our guests might lose a few guineas at our tables, but that is hardly to be wondered at, after all.’ She glanced at her friend, trying to keep her countenance, but failed miserably, and her peal of laughter made several heads turn. ‘Oh dear, now I have made people stare. Go away, Kate, before I forget myself again. Look, my aunt is waving to you to make a fourth at whist.’

‘And she is sitting down with Mr and Mrs Anstruther, who spend so much time bickering that they invariably lose. Very well, I shall go, and I see old Major Crommelly is coming over, no doubt to engage you for a game of picquet, which is his pretext to get you to himself and subject you to the most fulsome compliments.’

‘He may positively shower me with compliments as long as he is happy to play for pound points,’ chuckled Susannah, turning to greet the elderly gentleman who was approaching her.

It was well over an hour later that she rose from the table, refusing the major’s suggestion that they should play another hand.

‘But, my dear Miss Prentess, the night is yet young.’

‘It is indeed, but I have other guests to attend, Major, and cannot let you monopolise me.’

She softened her words with a smile and went off to join her aunt, whom she found bubbling with excitement.

‘Susannah, I am so glad you are come, I was determined to interrupt your game if you had not finished when you did.’

‘My dear ma’am, what has occurred to put you into a spin?’

‘Mr Barnabus has arrived—’

‘Is that all? How did he look? I hope he is not too downhearted—’

‘No, that is, I did not notice.’ Aunt Maude flapped her hands in excitement. ‘Did you see the stranger he brought with him?’

‘No, I was paying picquet with the major and had my back to the door.’ Susannah looked around. ‘Has Mr Barnabus brought another gentleman, then? That is good of him, and shows he has not taken umbrage at my refusal.’

‘No, not a gentleman, Susannah. A viscount. There, I knew that would make you stare.’

‘It does indeed. We have had nothing more prestigious than a baron here before, although I suppose General Sanstead is pretty high …’

Mrs Wilby tapped her niece’s arm with her closed fan.

‘Pray be serious, Susannah, his presence here adds distinction! You must let me make you known to him at once.’

‘By all means, Aunt. Lead on.’

‘No need, here he comes now,’ Mrs Wilby responded in a shrill whisper, and Susannah looked around to see two gentlemen approaching. The first, a stocky young man with an open, boyish countenance beneath a thatch of fair hair, was Gerald Barnabus, and after a brief smile of welcome she turned her attention to his companion. The contrast with Mr Barnabus was striking. Gerald looked neat—even smart—in his evening dress, but the viscount’s black coat bore all the hallmarks of a London tailor. It fitted perfectly across his shoulders and followed the tapering line of the body to his waist. Satin knee-breeches stretched over muscled thighs that hinted at the athlete, while the startling white of his quilted waistcoat and impeccable linen of his shirt and neckcloth proclaimed a level of sartorial elegance not often seen in Bath.

The man himself was tall and lean, with hair as dark as midnight. The golden, flickering candlelight accentuated the strong lines of his handsome face. When she met his eyes a little tremor ran down her spine. She was used to seeing admiration in a man’s look, but the viscount’s gaze was coolly appraising.

‘Ah, there you are, Miss Prentess,’ Gerald greeted her cheerfully. ‘I have brought a friend with me; I made sure you would not object to it. Well, I say friend, but he is some sort of cousin, actually …’

‘Come, Gerald, you are taking far too long about this.’

The viscount’s voice was low and pleasant, with just a hint of laughter. He turned to Susannah, the cool look in his eyes replaced by a glinting smile.

‘I am Markham.’ He gave a little bow. ‘How do you do?’

‘I am very well, my lord, thank you. And of course there can be no objection to your coming here with Mr Barnabus.’

‘Aye, I knew you would be pleased,’ said Gerald, grinning.

Susannah barely heard Gerald’s words for the viscount had reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips.

‘Are you making a long stay in Bath, my lord?’ She struggled to ignore the fluttering inside, like the soft beating of birds’ wings against her ribcage. The pad of his thumb had rubbed gently over her knuckles before he gave up her hand and her skin still tingled with the memory.

‘I am on my way to town. I merely stopped off to look in on my cousin.’

‘Aye, which is why I persuaded him to take pot luck here with me tonight,’ added Gerald.

‘And we are delighted to have you join us.’ Mrs Wilby spread her fan and looked about her while Susannah stood mute at her side, trying to make sense of her reaction to this stranger. ‘What would you care to play, my lord? There is macao, or loo, or euchre … or if you care to wait a little I am sure we can set you up with a rubber of whist—’

‘You are too kind, ma’am, but if you have no objection I shall walk about a little.’ He bestowed such a charming smile upon Aunt Maude that Susannah was not at all surprised to see her simpering like a schoolroom miss. ‘I like to gauge the opposition before I commit myself to the game.’

‘You will find no deep play here, my lord,’ Susannah responded. ‘And no hardened gamesters.’

‘No?’ His brows lifted. ‘Not even yourself, Miss Prentess?’

Again that flutter down her spine. She was close enough to see his eyes now. Blue-grey, and hard as slate.

She shook her head. ‘I am no gamester, my lord.’

‘But she is good,’ said Gerald. ‘I’d wager she could match you, Cousin.’

‘Indeed? Perhaps we should put it to the test.’

His voice was silky, but she heard the note of contempt in his tone. To her dismay she felt the blush rising to her cheeks. She could do nothing to hide it, so she put up her chin and replied to Gerald with a smile.

‘You are too kind, Mr Barnabus. I have no wish to pit myself against one who is no doubt a master.’

She excused herself and walked away. As she passed the table where Mrs Logan was presiding at a noisy game of vingt-et-un, Kate stretched out her hand to detain her.

‘You seem to have netted a big fish there, Susannah,’ she murmured. ‘Who is he?’

‘Viscount Markham, Gerald’s cousin.’

‘Indeed? A very big fish then.’ Kate’s eyes flickered over the viscount, then came back to her friend. ‘He does not please you?’

‘He seems inclined to sneer at our little party.’ Susannah shrugged. ‘Let my aunt deal with him. If we are not to his taste I hope he will not stay long.’

A shout recalled Kate’s attention to the game and Susannah moved on. She sat down with a large group who were playing loo and tried to give her attention to the cards, but all the time she was aware of the viscount’s tall figure wandering around the room. Then, suddenly, she could not see him and wondered if he had been persuaded to sit down at one of the other tables, or if he had taken his leave. The unease she had felt in his presence made her hope it was the latter.

As the evening wore on and the crowd in the room thinned, Susannah noticed the familiar, subtle change in the card party. The chatter and laughter died away as those who were left concentrated on their game. Two young gentlemen challenged her to take them on at ombre and she was busily engaged with them until the supper gong sounded at midnight.

‘Sacardo again, Miss Prentess,’ laughed one of the young men, throwing down his cards in mock disgust. ‘You are unbeatable tonight.’

‘Aye, she has won almost every trick,’ declared the other, watching as Susannah swept the small pile of coins from the table into her reticule. ‘I hope you will allow Warwick and me the chance to take our revenge later?’

‘More to the point, Farthing, I hope Miss Prentess will allow me to escort her down to supper,’ added Mr Warwick, looking hopefully across at Susannah.

‘Nay, as to that, surely the honour should fall to me?’ said Mr Farthing. ‘I at least won codille, sir, so it can be said I bested you!’

Susannah threw up her hands, laughing.

‘Gentlemen, pray, do not fight over such a trifle.’

‘Especially when the trick is already won,’ said a deep, amused voice. ‘I have come to escort you down to supper, Miss Prentess.’

Susannah looked round to find Lord Markham standing behind her, his hand on the back of her chair.

‘Indeed, my lord?’ His self-assurance rattled her. ‘I rather think these gentlemen might oppose you.’

A glance back showed Susannah that the two young men might have been prepared to fight each other for the pleasure of taking her to supper, but they were far too in awe of a viscount to raise an objection. She was disappointed when they scrambled to their feet, uttering disjointed phrases.

‘L-Lord Markham! N-no, no objections at all, my lord.’

‘Only too happy …’

‘There, you see? No opposition at all.’ The humour glinting in Lord Markham’s eyes did nothing to appease Susannah, but it would not do to show her displeasure, so with a smile of acquiescence she took his hand and allowed him to lead her off. As they moved through the room she looked around her.

‘Ah, my aunt is setting up another game of loo. Perhaps she would like me to help her—’

‘No, it was she who suggested I should take you downstairs.’ When Susannah hesitated he added, ‘You can see, Miss Prentess, that everyone is perfectly content. You may take a little time now to enjoy yourself. These parties are designed to be enjoyed. After all, it is not as if you are running a gaming hell here.’

She looked at him sharply, but could read nothing from his smile. His manners were perfectly polite, but she had the distinct feeling he was on his guard, that he was assessing her. Susannah gave an inward shrug. What did it matter? He was not staying in Bath.

She accompanied him to the supper room, where a selection of cold meats, fruits and sweets was laid out on the table. Susannah chose sparingly from the selection before her, but she was surprised when her escort showed no interest in the food.

‘I am sorry I cannot offer you soup or ramekins, Lord Markham. Our guests make do with a cold collation, even in winter, although there is warm wine for anyone who wishes it.’

‘I require nothing, thank you.’

They found an empty table and sat down. Susannah took a little minced chicken, but found she had no appetite with the viscount sitting opposite her.

‘You work very hard at your … entertainments, Miss Prentess.’

‘I help my aunt as best I can, sir.’

‘And how often do you hold these little parties?’

‘Every Tuesday.’

‘Indeed? You must be prodigious fond of cards, ma’am.’

‘My aunt enjoys them, yes.’

‘I stand corrected.’

She looked up at him, understanding dawning.

‘Ah, I see what it is,’ she said, smiling. ‘You are concerned for your cousin.’

‘Should I not be?’

‘Mr Barnabus will come to no harm here.’ ‘But you have already taken two hundred guineas from him in one night.’

She stared at him. ‘How do you know that? Did Mr Barnabus tell you?’

‘He did not need to. Such deep play excites comment.’

‘Deep play?’ She laughed. ‘I am sure in your London club such a sum would be considered insignificant.’

He leaned forwards.

‘But we are not in my London club, Miss Prentess.’

The unease she had been feeling all evening intensified. She put down her fork.

‘It was unfortunate. I have not allowed it to happen again.’ She met his eyes, returning his gaze steadily. ‘I am not trying to entrap your cousin.’

‘No?’

‘Of course not.’ She hesitated. ‘You may not know it, but he made me an offer of marriage and I refused him. Does that not tell you I have no designs upon him?’

‘Perhaps you are hoping to catch a bigger prize.’

Some of the tension eased and she laughed at the absurdity of his claim.

‘My lord, you have seen the guests my aunt invites. Couples, mainly, like General Sanstead and his wife, intent upon an evening’s sport. And as for the single gentlemen, they are either too old to be looking for a wife or they have yet to make their way in the world.’

‘And such men are very susceptible to the, ah, blandishments of a pretty woman.’

Susannah’s brows snapped together.

‘I find the implication insulting, sir.’ She pushed her plate away. ‘I must go back upstairs.’

‘As you wish.’

What she wished was to order him from the house, but she could hardly eject a viscount from her aunt’s card party without good reason, and it would not do to stir up gossip. Instead she contented herself with returning to the drawing room and quitting his company with no more than a nod of her head.

A rubber of whist with Kate as her partner did much to restore her spirits and later she took her turn at playing vingt-et-un, drawing a crowd of gentlemen, as usual. She concentrated hard on the game. This was her aunt’s party, after all, so it was not for her to keep an eye on who was leaving. However, the game was over and the players dispersing when Gerald approached her, so she could not avoid him.

‘Are you leaving us, Mr Barnabus?’ She put aside her cards and rose to meet him.

‘Aye, my cousin has invited me to take my brandy with him tonight, if you will give me leave?’

From the corner of her eye Susannah saw Lord Markham standing a little way behind his cousin. It would have given her great pleasure to tell Gerald that she would not release him. He would stay, she was sure of it from his look and the warm note in his voice. But that might raise his hopes that she felt something stronger for him than friendship, and she would not serve him such a trick. Instead she contented herself with giving him her warmest smile as he bowed over her fingers, and a murmur—loud enough for the viscount to hear—that she hoped to see him again very soon.

‘I saw the viscount take you off to supper.’ Mrs Logan came up as Susannah watched the two men leave the room. ‘Another conquest, do you think?’

‘Hardly.’ She chuckled. ‘The viscount is more inclined to think me a gold-digger. I have no doubt that he will warn his cousin off.’

‘Pity. He would have been a rich pigeon for the plucking.’

‘I wish you wouldn’t use such cant terms, Kate.’

‘I am a soldier’s widow, love. I know a lot worse than that.’

‘I am sure you do, and I am pleased you have left that life behind.’

‘Aye, and with it the need for a husband.’

‘Come, Kate. You are still young, and I have seen how the men flock to you—are you sure you do not wish to marry again?’

‘Put myself in the power of one man, when as a widow I can flirt and enjoy myself with anyone I wish?’ Kate shook her head. ‘Never. Never again. You know as well as I what monsters men can be, if one allows them dominance.’

Susannah shivered.

‘Let us not think of that, Kate. It is all in the past.’ She gave her friend a quick hug. ‘Now, let us see what we can do to hurry these few remaining guests on their way. I need to get to bed since I have to be up early in the morning.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Odesse sent me a note. We have another client.’

Kate’s eyes widened. ‘Word is spreading,’ she murmured.

Susannah nodded. ‘As we knew it would. I shall drive out tomorrow to make sure she is settled in.’

‘That is not necessary,’ said Kate. ‘Mrs Gifford—’

‘Is a dear soul, but I like to talk to each of our—er—clients myself, it reassures them.’ She laughed. ‘Pray do not look so disapproving, Kate. This was as much your idea as mine.’

‘I know, but it was never my intention that you should be so personally involved.’

Susannah’s laughter deserted her.

‘Why not? It is my reason for living, Kate.’

The walk back to George Street was not a long one, but the icy blast that hit them as they stepped out on to the Crescent prompted Gerald to ask Jasper if they would not be better to go back indoors and send a servant for a cab.

‘By no means,’ he replied. ‘The fresh air will do us good. Unless you mean to imply I am too old for such a journey …’

Gerald laughed.

‘I would not dare. Let us walk, by all means.’ He tucked his hand into Jasper’s arm as they set off at a good pace towards the Circus. ‘Tell me what you thought of Susannah.’

‘Miss Prentess? At first glance, a beauty.’

‘She is beautiful, isn’t she? A golden goddess! But it is not just her looks, Jasper, it is her spirit, too. She is so good, so charitable.’

‘Not so charitable that she won’t take your money at the card table.’

‘No, no, a mere trifle. She will not countenance anyone losing more than fifty guineas at a sitting.’

‘That is not what I have heard.’

‘Ah.’ Gerald gave a self-conscious laugh. ‘You said you had called upon my mother. I suppose she told you I had lost more, and asked you to come and rescue me.’

‘Not in so many words.’

Gerald swore under his breath.

‘Damn the Bath tabbies that report my every move! That was a single occurrence, and entirely my own doing. Susannah did not wish to take my money, I assure you—I had to almost beg her to do so. And I had thought hard beforehand. It was money I could afford to lose.’

‘That is what all gamesters will tell you.’

Gerald stopped and pulled away.

‘I am no gambler, Jasper. If I was I would be sporting my blunt in some hell, rather than in Mrs Wilby’s drawing room!’

The flare of a nearby street lamp showed the boy’s face to be serious. Jasper put a hand on his shoulder.

‘No, I had not thought it of you, until now. I take it that Miss Prentess is the attraction, rather than the cards?’

‘Of course. You must have noticed how many young bucks were there tonight.’

‘And old roués,’ added Jasper.

‘It is all the rage to be in love with her.’ Gerald began to walk on, his good humour quite restored. ‘She is beautiful, and an heiress.’

‘Indeed?’

‘Aye. She is old Middlemass’s heir, don’t you know.’

‘What, the nabob?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Well, that explains the house in Royal Crescent.’

‘Aye, the old man bought it when he returned from India, but rarely used it. Susannah was his only relative. She was living with him at his place in Westbury when he died, and he left everything to her in trust until she is five-and-twenty.’

‘Then I am no longer surprised all Bath is at her feet. Yet why should Gloriana call it a disastrous attachment?’

‘Not everyone in Bath is enamoured of Miss Prentess.’

‘I would have thought her fortune would make her universally admired.’

‘Yes, well, Bath is not London, Jasper. Respectability is everything here, don’t you know. And there are some high sticklers in Bath, including those who write to my mother. And Miss Prentess does not go out of her way to flatter them.’

‘So what do they have against the lady?’

‘For one thing they do not approve of her setting herself up in Royal Crescent with her aunt—if the truth were told I suspect they are jealous that she can afford to do so. Then there is her birth. Her father was a soldier and her mother an officer’s daughter. Perfectly respectable,’ he added quickly. ‘I ascertained as much before I—’

‘Yes?’ Jasper prompted him.

‘I offered her my hand.’

There was no mistaking the rather belligerent note in Gerald’s voice. He clearly expected Jasper to be outraged. Instead Jasper said merely, ‘I am glad you had so much presence of mind. When one is … head over heels, one is inclined to forget such things.’

Gerald relaxed again and aimed a playful punch at his ribs.

‘Well, I didn’t! I am not such a looby.’ He sighed. ‘I made sure the fortune would reconcile Mama to her, and I am sure it would have done, if Susannah had accepted me.’

‘Does that matter now? Since the lady has refused you …’

‘I hope she will be persuaded to change her mind.’ They had reached George Street and the entrance to York House. Jasper stood back for Gerald to precede him but the young man turned to him, saying earnestly, ‘You have met her, Jasper. You could speak to Mama for me. Susannah—Miss Prentess—is infinitely superior to every other woman I have ever met, you must see that.’

‘Ah …’ Jasper gave him a rueful smile ‘… but I have met rather more women than you, Cousin. Now, shall we go in out of the cold?’

Gerald took his leave a couple of hours later, but instead of retiring immediately, Jasper poured himself another brandy and settled himself into the chair beside the fire. He had done his duty by his cousin and warned him against proposing marriage again without careful thought, but Gerald had merely laughed at his concerns and asked him what fault he could find with Susannah Prentess. And indeed, Jasper could not find any, but something nagged at him.

He had spent the evening in Royal Crescent, watching and listening. The card party appeared to be quite innocuous and everyone enjoyed themselves, especially the numerous gentlemen who vied with each other for the opportunity to play cards with Miss Prentess, but he would be surprised if many of them left the house richer than they entered it. Both his hostess and her niece were excellent card players. He had observed them closely during the evening—their assessment of their opponents’ hands was shrewd and the play was as clever as anything he had seen in town. Then there was the widow, Mrs Logan. She appeared to be very thick with Miss Prentess, and when the two ladies sat down together at the whist table they were unbeatable.