by Sahara Kelly
“Eleven, if I’m correct?”
He gave a brief nod, then stood. “An interesting hand, Miss Fairhurst. I congratulate you on your luck.”
She rose as well, fighting the anger that bloomed at his dismissive and patronising comment. “Yes, I was lucky, wasn’t I? Thank you for honouring me with your valuable time, sir.”
She tried not to flounce, but her departure from the table toward the dining room came damn close, and she knew it.
How dare he?
He was a good player, without question. But he was arrogantly sure that he would beat some young chit and put her firmly in her place. Well he hadn’t. And yet he couldn’t be gracious enough to compliment her on her skill or tell her that he’d enjoyed the game.
Loathsome creature.
Grinding her teeth, she went in search of Lydia, finding her with a plate of tarts, chatting to two other women.
“Here you are,” she laughed, putting the plate aside. “Did you wipe the floor with Sir Ragnor?”
“Yes,” snapped Judith. “And the revolting man couldn’t even congratulate me.”
“Wait. You beat Sir Ragnor Withersby at cards?” A pair of green eyes widened beneath tiny curls of red hair. “The Sir Ragnor Withersby?”
“I devoutly pray there isn’t more than one.” Judith tapped her foot in irritation.
“This is Ivy Siddington, Judith,” said Lydia. “She’s new in London as well.”
“Hallo.” Judith smiled. “I apologise. I’m in a bit of a snit at the moment.”
“I can understand why,” laughed the other girl. “I’m Rose. Rose Glynde-Beauchamp. And I’ve heard of Sir Ragnor’s prowess. Er…with cards.” A faint flush spread into her cheeks.
Judith pulled up a chair and joined them, smiling at Rose, and tugging Lydia back into her own seat. “You mean there is more to Sir Ragnor than just a talent for piquet?”
All four heads moved toward each other, and voices lowered as Rose nodded. “Indeed, Judith. ‘Tis rumoured that he has two mistresses, at least.”
“At the same time?” Lydia’s eyes widened. “Goodness. That must require some stamina.”
“My thought exactly,” giggled Ivy. “Although I heard that he has some Viking blood in his ancestry. It would account for the Ragnor Christian name, of course.” She lifted her fan to conceal her next words from the rest of the room. “And you know what those Vikings were like…”
A moment of silence allowed all four young ladies to consider the nature of the Viking soul. And other bits.
“Ooh.” Rose breathed out. “Goodness.”
“Pillaging and plundering,” muttered Ivy. “Hmm.”
“I wouldn’t put either past him,” smouldered Judith.
“I wonder what it would be like…” Lydia looked contemplative.
“What what would be like?” Judith frowned at her.
“Well, one does think about those things, doesn’t one? We’re not supposed to, but how can we help it? What would it be like to be plundered and pillaged by someone with Viking ancestors?”
Rose snickered. “Not too good unless they bathed first.”
“That goes without saying,” scolded Lydia. “And you all know quite well I’m not talking about Osgood the Burly or his ilk…”
Judith’s laughter rang out. “Lydia. Really. Osgood the Burly?”
“Oh yes,” she replied, clutching her hands to her bosom dramatically. “Can you not see it? A moonlit night, a quiet beach and the sound of Osgood’s leather boots crunching on the sand as he stalks toward you. The shadows on his body reveal the rippling muscles…”
“He’s taken off his shirt then, has he?” Ivy stared at her.
“Of course,” answered Lydia. “It is a warm night. You’re wearing your flimsiest nightgown because of the heat, and his eyes feast upon your person…”
“Mmm…”
The murmur was general as Lydia’s words painted a vivid picture in Judith’s mind.
“And then he…”
“Ladies, I hate to intrude…” Lady Maud stood next to Lydia, a smile wreathing her lips. “Especially at such a moment…”
Lydia blushed. “I am sorry, Lady Maud.”
“No need, my dear.” Maud touched her shoulder. “I should have remembered your gift with words.”
Lydia sighed. “I will write my novel someday, I swear.”
“You absolutely must,” endorsed Judith.
“I will be the first to buy it,” said Ivy.
“And I’ll be in line with her,” chuckled Rose. “You see? You are guaranteed to be a success, Lydia. Just make sure it features Osgood the Burly…without his shirt.”
The laughter echoed once more, and Judith stood, realising the room was thinning of guests. “I’m keeping you. I do apologise.”
As one the other three rose, varying expressions of sadness crossing their faces.
“I have had such fun. I hate to leave.”
“As have I, Lydia.” Judith looked at the others. “And I have made new friends, which is a gift and I thank you.” She obeyed an instinct and gave each a quick hug.
“I hope I can return next Wednesday?” Ivy looked at Lady Maud. “This has been the best evening I can recall in quite some time.”
“I agree wholeheartedly, my Lady.” Rose nodded. “So much better than those stuffy assemblies my Mama drags me to.”
“I am very glad you’ve enjoyed yourselves, my dears. We’ll see how everything goes before we make any firm plans, but I will send notes when we do.” Maud skilfully shepherded them into the hall.
Judith watched them retrieve their wraps and then shared a brief farewell, promising to visit, and wishing them well on their journeys home. It was a sad moment, since Judith had realised what it was like to share an evening with her peers. Instead of being scared she was happy and laughing and having a wonderful time.
What a surprise.
Then two gentlemen walked past, pausing for a moment to take their farewells of Lady Maud.
“A perfect evening, my Lady. One hopes to receive another invitation? In response to which you have my word I will arrive on time…” Matthew Davenport bowed over her hand and kissed it with a flourish.
“Saucy lad,” grinned Maud. “Relay my regards to your mama, if you please.”
“I will.”
“My thanks as well, my Lady.” Sir Ragnor also bowed deeply. “This has been a most…instructive evening.” His gaze flashed to Judith.
She felt the impact down to her toes, but merely lifted her chin and said nothing.
“I am happy you found it so, sir. We shall hope to see you again.” Lady Maud was the perfect, gracious hostess.
“I’m quite sure you will.”
Judith knew those words were meant for her. She shivered as they resonated through her body, but remained silent as he and Matthew took their leave.
“An interesting character, Sir Ragnor,” observed Maud. “I think he has depths.”
“You do?”
“Don’t you?” Maud glanced at Judith.
She snorted. “From what I’ve seen, he’d like you to think he has depths. More likely he’s shallow as a mud puddle, and equally self-absorbed.”
She stalked away, leaving Maud wondering how a mud puddle could be self-absorbed, and with a growing curiosity to see what another meeting between these two might bring.
Chapter Three
W ord of her little victory had obviously spread through the household overnight, since her maid awoke her with piping hot water for her ewer and a huge grin.
Judith arrived at the breakfast table to be welcomed with a surprisingly warm smile from Hobson, who never—as a rule—smiled at anyone.
“Good morning, Miss Judith. You look well rested after last night’s activities.”
She blinked. “Thank you, Hobson. You are kind to say so.”
“On behalf of the staff, Miss, I’d like to proffer our thanks and congratulations. Your actions last night upheld the reputa
tion of the Sydenham household.”
“They did?”
“Indeed, yes.” He seated her. “Sir Laurence is a renowned card player. You have proved yourself a worthy addition.”
“Ah.” Understanding crept up on her confused brain, and she nodded as he brought her tea. “Thank you.”
“I hope you’re having more than just that cup of tea, my dear…” Sir Laurence himself strode in, looking even more cheerful than Hobson.
What was it with everyone today? “I will also have eggs. And possibly toast. And if all this fuss keeps up, I shall expect a diamond tiara for lunch.”
Sir Laurence paused in front of the sideboard with a serving spoon laden with eggs balancing in mid-air. “What?”
Judith waved her hands. “It’s just everyone seems so pleased with me this morning. All I did was win a hand of cards…is that so special?”
“If it’s piquet, it is,” he replied, sitting at the head of the table and looking at her as she sat on his right. “You do know I play, don’t you?”
“Yes. You mentioned it last night.”
“Well, my dear, it’s not that I play, it’s that I play.”
A mouthful of eggs prevented Judith from doing more than a muffled murmur. Which was a good thing overall since she had no clue what he was talking about.
“I have a bit of a reputation, you see,” he continued. “Piquet is an all-absorbing pastime, and one on which I have worked hard for decades. In fact,” he touched his napkin to his lips, “at the risk of sounding immodest, I am currently the top-ranked piquet player in London.”
“Oh my goodness. I had no idea,” replied Judith, her eyes wide.
“Do you know who is second?”
She shook her head.
“Sir Ragnor Withersby.”
She opened her mouth to respond—then shut it again, bereft of words.
“There’s my dear girl.” Maud came in, walking to the table and resting both hands on Judith’s shoulders. “How clever you are. I’m so proud.”
“I’m so jealous,” added her husband. “I am kidnapping this young lady after breakfast. If you’re looking for her, I shall have her closeted away in my study.”
“Now, Laurie…”
“Don’t now Laurie me, Maud. This child walloped the dickens out of Ragnor Withersby at piquet. Do you have any idea how difficult that is?”
“Er…no.” Maud helped herself to a hot scone.
“Bring me one of those, would you, sweetheart? And I’ll tell you how extraordinary it is that this slip of a girl here took down a card player of the highest ranking, right here in our salon, last night.”
Judith, unused to hearing herself described as a slip of a girl, took a breath and turned her attention to the excellent eggs.
“Piquet notwithstanding, I believe everyone had a good time,” said Maud.
“Oh yes, yes indeed,” agreed Judith, happy to have found a topic on which she could easily converse. “I think Lydia wants to make some plans for a trip to Bond Street later this week. Would it be acceptable for me to accompany her?” She looked at Maud. “That’s if I’m invited, of course.”
“You will be,” she reassured. “And the Davenports are a well-bred family who know their way around London. Yes, I’d be quite happy to have you spend some time with them.” She sipped her tea. “What did you think of Matthew?”
Judith paused for a moment. “Oh, you mean Lydia’s brother? A delightful gentleman. Very merry.”
She missed the glance exchanged between Maud and her husband.
“I doubt he’ll want to go to Bond Street,” chuckled Sir Laurence.
“What? Oh no, no I should think not.” Judith laughed. “It would be nice to see Rose and Ivy as well. I didn’t get to spend very much time with them, but if it’s possible, I would like to.”
“Of course it’s possible,” enthused Maud. “I cannot tell you how lovely it is to see you opening yourself to new friends, Judith. We were worried you’d not be happy here in town, or accept the friendships that were offered. You’ve been isolated a lot, my dear.”
Judith nodded in agreement. “I realise that now. But I don’t think I knew it when I was there.” She pursed her lips on a frown. “If you know what I mean. That didn’t quite come out the way I intended.”
“We understand,” grinned Sir Laurence. “My brain works faster than my mouth sometimes too.”
Happy that she’d made herself understood, Judith settled into her chair and enjoyed her tea.
There was a slight bustle outside and then a servant walked in with a massive bouquet of magnificent red roses. He was followed by another servant also bearing flowers.
“Good God,” Sir Laurence stood. “Is there a red rose left in London, I wonder?”
“They must be for Judith,” said Maud with a satisfied smile.
The servant hoisted his burden onto a free space on the table near Maud. “Er, no, my Lady. The card says these are for you.”
“Me?” Her eyebrows rose and she looked at her husband.
“Sorry,” he answered the silent question. “Not me.” He cleared his throat. “Although now, of course, I do realise I should have.”
Maud waved that aside as she reached for the card. “Well I’ll be…” she read the words and then looked up. “They’re from Sir Ragnor Withersby, with his thanks for a surprising and entertaining evening.”
“Hmm.” Sir Laurence raised an eyebrow at his wife.
“Oh hush. He’s young enough to be my son.”
“He is not,” said her husband. “But I’ll acquit you of any encouragement.” He looked at Judith. “She gets these huge things from young men all the time. I am of the opinion it’s guilt, of course. They never did it for their mothers, so they do it for Maud, the next best thing.”
The lady in question rolled her eyes, put the card aside and beckoned the second servant, a maid bearing a small posy of what looked like jasmine.
“These are for Miss Fairhurst, my Lady.” The girl curtseyed and held out the flowers.
Maud nodded. “Go ahead. You can give them directly to her.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She laid the scented blooms down next to Judith, who smiled her thanks. “How lovely. And what a fragrance. I’ve always loved jasmine.” She touched the blossoms with her forefinger. “I brought my jasmine perfume with me.”
“And you were wearing it last night?” Maud’s eyebrows lifted as she posed the question.
“Well, yes. Yes I was…” Judith’s voiced trailed off as she reached for the card, a little voice in her head telling her she already knew the identity of the sender.
She unfolded the paper and saw the bold scrawl.
You smell like these - only better. Until our next partie,
Yrs, Withersby
“Uh…” She stared at the sheet, something stirring within at the notion he’d recalled her scent.
“Withersby.” Maud nodded. “I knew it.”
Wordlessly, Judith passed the note to Maud, who read it, and managed to stifle a chuckle before she handed it back. “He’s a cheeky devil, I’ll give him that.”
“It’s…inappropriate,” sputtered Judith.
“Of course it is. That’s what makes it beguiling. He’s revealing a card, Judith. The one in his hand that tells you he’s interested in you.” Maud leaned back. “How do you feel about it?”
Judith considered the question. “Annoyed, mostly. I’m still irked that he did not have the grace to compliment me on my play.”
“And yet he’s just complimented you on your perfume. And the fact that he knows which flower it is…well, I would consider both quite impressive…” Maud looked across the table. “What fragrance do I always wear, dear?”
Sir Laurence finished his scone hurriedly. “Um…the one in the blue bottle?”
Maud turned back to Judith. “I believe that proves my point.”
Judith rolled her eyes.
*~~*~~*
Sir Laur
ence itched to get Judith to a card table, and scarcely had she swallowed her last bite of toast, then he eagerly rose and looked at her. “All right. It’s time. You, young lady, are coming with me.”
She gazed back at him, uncertainty written all over her face. “I am?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “We are going to shut ourselves away for the morning and play piquet.”
“Ooh.” Her shoulders relaxed. “Yes. Yes, that would be lovely.”
Maud sighed. “Run along then. I’ll find something to keep myself busy,” she touched the roses with one finger. “Perhaps I should drop a wee note to dear Sir Ragnor for these splendid flowers…”
“Behave yourself, Madam,” said her husband wrathfully.
“Of course, darling. Don’t I always?”
Sir Laurence shook his head and sighed. “You can join us if you want, you know.”
Maud laughed. “No thank you. You know I’m not a piquet player. Besides, the seamstress is coming for more fittings this morning, so I really will be busy.”
“Excellent,” he grinned. “No notes to young men.”
Her eyebrows quirked. “I might pen one to you…”
“Hmm…”
She chuckled. “Go. Play cards with Judith. Be kind to her.”
“I’m sure he will, Lady Maud,” said Judith, standing now, ready to depart. “And it will be such fun. I realised last night how much I’d missed it.”
“Very well. Off with you.”
Obediently the two took themselves away and Sir Laurence steered Judith toward his study. “I’ve taken the liberty of having a card table set up.” He opened the door.
Judith breathed in, enjoying the scent of books and leather and a lingering touch of cigar smoke. “I do like this room,” she said, stepping and noticing the table near the fire, with two comfortable chairs across from each other.
On the smooth green surface rested paper and pencils. “You surely don’t need to write down your scores, Sir Laurence,” she commented, allowing him to seat her.
“No, but we both might like to take notes,” he answered. “I love to play with someone new. I learn things that way, and I have a feeling this morning will be no exception.”
