Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager

‘This is my aunt’s party, sir.’

‘Perhaps your milieu is the cardroom.’

She looked down, smiling.

‘No, I do not think so.’

Jasper hesitated, wondering if he should mention seeing her on the bridge that morning and into the lull came Mrs Sanstead’s voice as she moved across to join the other married ladies.

‘We are missing Mrs Anstruther today, Mrs Wilby. Is she not well?’

Immediately Miss Prentess was on the alert. Jasper could not fail to notice the way she grew still, nor the wary look in her eye. There was some coughing and shuffling and from the furtive looks in his direction it was clear this was not a subject for his hearing. He turned away, pretending to interest himself in a pleasant landscape on the wall, but not before he had seen Mrs Bulstrode turn quickly in her seat, setting the tassels on her green turban swinging wildly.

‘Lord, Mrs Sanstead, have you not heard? The Anstruthers have retired to Shropshire. They left Bath this morning.’

‘Heavens, that was sudden. When do they mean to return?’

‘Who can tell? Their daughter …’

He could not make out the next words, but he heard Mrs Sanstead sigh.

‘Oh, you mean she is with child? Poor gel.’

‘Yes. I understand she refused to say who the father might be and Anstruther has banished her.’ Mrs Bulstrode’s whisper was easily audible to Jasper’s keen ears. ‘Thrown her out of the house in disgrace.’

‘Flighty piece, I always said so,’ muttered Mrs Farthing with a disdainful sniff. ‘My son William showed a preference for her at one time, but I am glad it came to nought. She has obviously been far too free with her favours.’

‘Whatever she has done she does not deserve to be cast off,’ murmured Mrs Wilby. ‘And what of the father? Do we have any idea who he might be?’

‘No one will say, although there are rumours.’ Mrs Farthing dropped her voice a little and ended in a conspiratorial whisper that somehow managed to carry around the whole room. ‘Mr Warwick.’

‘What? Not the young man we met here the other night?’ exclaimed Mrs Sanstead. ‘Why, he made a fourth at whist, and seemed so charming.’

‘The very same.’ Mrs Farthing nodded. ‘He denies it of course.’

‘Naturally,’ muttered Susannah.

She had not joined the matrons, but she was listening as intently as Jasper. Now he heard her utterance, and saw the angry frown that passed across her brow.

‘But what of Anstruther?’ barked the General, with a total disregard for the fact that the ladies considered their gossip confidential. ‘If it was my gel I’d have it out with the rascal, and if ‘tis true I would make him marry her.’

‘That certainly would be preferable to her being cast out and having to fend for herself,’ sighed Mrs Wilby.

Susannah’s lip curled. ‘An unenviable choice,’ she said, sotto voce. ‘Marriage to a scoundrel, or destitution.’

‘You do not agree, Miss Prentess?’ Jasper kept his voice low, so that only she could hear him. ‘You would rather he did not

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