by Sahara Kelly
“This is exciting for me too. I thank you for it in advance.” Her face was eager, her eyes bright with interest.
“Well then. Let’s see how our first hand goes, shall we?”
They cut for the deal and Sir Laurence led off.
The game commenced and he was pleased to observe that Judith betrayed no nerves or tension. She was simply a card player enjoying the experience.
He watched her eyes, noted the time she took considering her plays, and was quite surprised by some of the assumptions she had made which resulted in some very shrewd discards.
He narrowly scraped by with a win.
“Excellent, my dear. Truly excellent.” He noted the first scores on the paper beside him for future reference. “I am very pleased to find someone with a genuine understanding of the strategies of this game.”
“Thank you,” she smiled. “I’m not sure I’m all that you describe…”
“You have a feel for this, Judith.” He passed her the deck for the next deal. “May I ask where you learned it?”
She remained silent as she dealt the triplets out and placed the talon.
Then she looked up. “I learned it, literally, at my mother’s knee.”
Sir Laurence blinked. “Your mother?”
“Yes indeed.” Her throat moved as she swallowed. “I believe the fact that my Papa married beneath him has been mentioned, sir? I have made no secret of it.”
“That is correct.” He nodded.
“The truth of the matter is that she was a dealer at a gambling club. That’s where Papa met her. They were both young, and I assume they fell in love over a game of chance.”
“Perhaps piquet?” Sir Laurence smiled gently. “It can happen.”
A small smile curved her lips. “Anything is possible. But the upshot was that I had a Mama who was exceptionally talented at all forms of gaming.” She shrugged. “All this will doubtless explain why the Fairhurst family has ignored mine for most of my life.”
“Yes, unfortunately that is the way of the world. But I can’t say I approve of their neglect,” he answered.
“Mama and I would play for hours together. I think I must have been about five or six when she started teaching me piquet.” Judith smiled at the memory.
“Good Lord. That is a very young age to grasp such concepts,” he stuttered, shocked to his core.
“It didn’t seem like it.” She picked up her cards. “To me, it’s always been quite natural.”
“What, exactly, is natural? Can you describe how you’re seeing your cards right now?” His curiosity was growing by leaps and bounds.
“Well,” she frowned and absently sorted the cards in her hand. “Obviously I’m checking to see how many cards to exchange. Based on what I’m holding, together with what you discard, I’ll have a much better idea of what you are holding. At that point I can make my decisions.”
“So when I do this…” He laid five cards down and took the same number from the talon.
She nodded. “If I’m to explain this hand, then here…” She touched three of his discards with the tip of her finger. “These tell me—other than you’re obviously not holding a strong hand full of clubs—that you may be looking for Queens. Or higher. And you may have a nice run of diamonds.” She sorted her hand once more. “Which leads me to follow with this.”
She exchanged three cards. “I can now begin considering my declaration.”
And she did, making Sir Laurence work hard for the next win, although win he did.
They exchanged comments during the game, Judith understanding the lure of various strategies she’d not customarily employed. Once she was dealt a carte blanche, something she said was unexpected.
Another hand resulted in Sir Laurence happily declaring not only a pique, but also a repique, making Judith shake her head and laugh.
And on the next hand she obtained her vengeance by sweeping all the tricks to claim a capot and thus winning the hand.
At the conclusion of their second partie, it was obvious that Sir Laurence had the edge, but Judith wasn’t in the least discomposed. She was simply enjoying herself doing something she loved.
And Sir Laurence realised something quite surprising.
Judith Fairhurst was a natural at piquet. A rare, unique mix of talent for assessment, calculation and decisions. Judith didn’t really concentrate deeply on this complex game, she just played it from some place inside her mind where it all came together.
Sir Laurence was damn near awed by the young woman across the card table. He’d seldom seen her like, and never in her age group or gender. He gave himself the morning to simply relish the delight of playing his favourite game with a charming and very talented opponent.
Seldom had he enjoyed piquet more.
Both of them jumped at the knock on Sir Laurence’s study door. Lady Maud popped her head around and surveyed them.
“Still at it then?”
“Do you need us, my dear?” Sir Laurence smiled at his wife.
“I do need Judith. I apologise. The seamstress also brought her new gown and if she can drag herself away for a few minutes, it would be most helpful…”
Judith leapt to her feet. “Of course, my Lady.” Then she looked at Sir Laurence. “With your permission, sir?”
“Go, go,” he waved his hand. “I need to stretch, anyway.”
“Thank you,” she dropped him a little curtsey. “This has been a most wonderful morning.”
“I couldn’t agree more, my dear.” He grinned.
His wife caught his eye over Judith’s head as the young woman hurried to the door.
Sir Laurence raised his eyebrows at her and Maud nodded back at the silent request.
They would indeed be talking very soon.
Chapter Four
J udith had not lied to Sir Laurence. She really had enjoyed their morning of cards enormously.
Her childhood, before her mother died, had been one of typical pleasures. Martin Fairhurst was not terribly wealthy, but had a good income from an inheritance. The rest of the family begrudged him that amount, of course, especially when he wed a woman who was—to them—no better than a whore.
The facts that she neither worked in a brothel nor sold her body to men were irrelevant. She dealt cards for a living. Therefore, she was a loose woman.
Of course that was untrue. Gillian Lane had fallen upon hard times and used her skill with cards to put food on the table for herself and her ailing mother. She spent her days caring for the frail woman, and her nights watching the rich and wealthy pour fortunes into their cards. A fraction of which would have set her and her parent up for life.
Judith knew all this now, since much had been revealed after her death. Her father, occasionally under the hatches, talked about her too freely sometimes, and although Judith was still young and naïve, a picture emerged that stayed with her as she grew.
Her Mama had a gift, that was for certain. And now, according to Sir Laurence, so did she.
It was nice to hear such a thing; it made her proud to be who she was, and a lot less afraid of the world around her. She had something others did not have. For the first time in her life, she could hold her head high, the knowledge of her skills bolstering her self-confidence.
Thus, the following week…even though Maud had decided to skip the Wednesday club gathering due to painters in the ballroom…Judith found herself looking forward to an outing with Lydia and Matthew Davenport, and one other.
Sir Ragnor Withersby.
“I think it’s a good idea, Judith,” said Maud when asked about responding to the invitation. “Firstly, you will see your friends and be seen with them by others. Getting out and about is always wise, and this, sad to say, is how Society works. You are seen in the right places, you acquire the veneer of being the ‘right’ person.”
“It is a bit silly, isn’t it?” Judith sighed as she stood by the window watching the busy street.
“It’s utterly ridiculous. But…we ar
e lumbered with it, unfortunately. And you will enjoy yourself, I’m sure, Judith. So it’s not a terrible burden…”
Judith turned. “Of course not, Lady Maud. Not at all.” She paused for a moment. “I should ask…Is it acceptable for me to go since Sir Ragnor will be one of the party?”
Maud smiled gently. “Yes. I’m sure Lydia’s mama will expect Matthew to act as chaperon for you two girls, or even send a maid along. And this is a ride in the park, not a late-night supper at Vauxhall Gardens,” she pointed out.
“I know. It’s just…”
“Just what, my dear?”
Judith shrugged. “I…he…I find him annoyingly interesting.”
Maud hid a grin. “You do? Can you explain that?”
“I wish I could. I don’t even understand it myself. But I seem to be able to see his eyes when I close mine. I spent less than an hour with the man and he ended up making me quite cross. And yet…”
“And yet you can’t forget him or get him out of your mind?”
“That’s absolutely right, yes.” Judith strode from the window and began to pace. “As a result, I’m now angry with myself as well for not being able to set him aside and give him the consideration he deserves. Which is none.”
“So much anger,” chuckled Maud. “Judith. Stop pacing—it doesn’t help. Believe me, I know.”
Judith caught herself up, turned and walked to Maud, sitting across from her. “I’m being silly.”
“No you’re not,” Maud shook her head. “You’re being a young woman who has met a fascinating man.”
“He’s not. He’s…” She humphed out a breath of irritation. “I don’t know what he is. A pebble in my shoe. An insect bite I can’t quite scratch…”
“Which is completely understandable. And appropriate.”
“For what?” Judith managed to not grab her hair and tug at it.
“For the beginning of an interesting relationship.”
“Oh no.” She narrowed her eyes. “No, no and no. I am not looking in his direction for anything at all.”
“His family is quite reputable, and he has a comfortable fortune,” said Maud.
“He could be as rich as Croesus. It wouldn’t matter to me. Besides,” Judith looked up. “I’m completely ineligible for someone like him. My background is not what it should be. So I really have to just put him away in the corner of my mind that I reserve for people I dislike.”
And with that, she rose, straightened her skirts, and lifted her chin. “If you’ll excuse me, my Lady, I must pen a note to Lydia.”
“You’re going, then?”
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She chuckled and left the room as Maud just shook her head once more.
*~~*~~*
Fortunately, the sun decided to shine on the day of the outing.
It wasn’t what anyone would call warm, and thick outer garments were definitely called for to prevent the sharp breeze from chilling exposed flesh.
For Ragnor, that meant an overcoat hiding his jacket and vest, along with his new Paris beau chapeau of which he was quite proud. The curved brim that distinguished it from the traditional beaver hat added what he considered an elegant touch.
Then he rolled his eyes at himself, slapped the thing on his head and strolled to the door, knowing that Matthew and Lydia would be on his doorstep momentarily.
They were to jolly themselves along the sunny streets of London until they reached Sydenham House, where Miss Fairhurst would be joining the party. After that, it was off to Hyde Park.
Where there would be fewer crowds than normal, he hoped, and thus a chance for him to broaden his acquaintance with a certain young lady.
“Morning, Rag,” called Matthew, a cheerful smile on his face. “Ready to go for a ride?”
Ragnor straightened his hat, observed the open carriage and sighed. “Will you need more blankets, Miss Lydia? Your slowtop brother seems to have neglected the fact that it’s damned chilly…”
Lydia, ignoring his slightly risqué language, merely shook her head. “We have a few furs tucked beneath the seat, Sir Ragnor. You need not worry about getting cold.”
A sputtered guffaw from Matthew attracted his attention, and the two men exchanged amused looks. “In that case, I’ll come aboard.” And he climbed into the carriage, sitting next to Lydia. Matthew had chosen to sit with his back to the horses.
“There. Isn’t this lovely?” Lydia pulled out a fur and carefully tucked it over Ragnor’s knees. “There. All snug and cosy.”
He gazed at her. “I do know you well enough to administer a well-deserved wallop, you know.”
She giggled. “Sorry. But I just couldn’t help it. You did rather deserve it.”
He shrugged. “Was I being pompous?”
“No more than usual,” gibed Matthew.
Ragnor grinned, leaned back and prepared to enjoy the ride. Lydia was adequately protected by a warm cloak and bonnet, tied firmly beneath her chin, while her brother had also donned a greatcoat similar to Ragnor’s.
Even though the wind was bitter, the sky was bright, and clouds scudded merrily across the blue. It was, all things considered, a lovely day to be out in the carriage. And Ragnor’s heartbeat quickened a little at the thought of his day getting even brighter with the addition of the intriguing Miss Fairhurst.
He’d spent several hours since their first eventful meeting going over that damned game of piquet. He still couldn’t see how he might have played it any differently, and had been forced to swallow a very bitter pill. His opponent had, amazingly enough, been a better player. With a better hand.
The combination had laid him low, and he was wounded, confused and not a little bothered by the notion that a chit had bested him.
He also knew, but didn’t like to admit, that his pride had taken the most serious blow.
“So Miss Fairhurst will be joining us?” he inquired casually.
“Indeed. We’re picking her up from Sydenham House,” answered Lydia. “I do hope they have another Wednesday club meeting soon. I did enjoy the evening.”
“As did we all,” added Matthew. “But I ran into Sir Laurence the other day. They’re having some decorating work done in the ballroom.”
“Hmm. I wonder, will there be dancing next time, d’you think?” Lydia looked at Ragnor, then at Matthew. “Wouldn’t that be grand?”
There was a decided lack of enthusiasm for her comment, but since they’d just pulled up in front of Sydenham House, Lydia let it pass.
The door opened and Miss Fairhurst appeared, well-wrapped against the wind in an ivory cloak trimmed with fur. Her bonnet matched, and for one moment Ragnor’s vision blurred when she stepped into the sunshine. What the hell was the matter with him?
Since she was on his side of the carriage, he leaped down as soon as the footman opened the door and pulled out the step for her.
“Good morning, Miss Fairhurst,” Ragnor said, extending his hand. “A lovely day for a drive in the park…”
She dipped briefly into a curtsey, then shot him a look that could have been scorn, anger or irritation. “Sir Ragnor. Indeed it is.” She allowed him to assist her into the carriage where she took the seat next to Lydia. The two girls greeted each other enthusiastically and chattered on, ignoring Ragnor as he resumed his seat.
Amused, he took the chance to thoroughly look her over.
Her complexion was flawless, slightly flushed now from the brisk air. The gentle tinge of rose petals was flattering, and when she smiled…well, she might not have been a classic beauty, but there was a charm there that definitely appealed. Her shy hesitancy seemed to evaporate as she conversed with Lydia, much as it had when they faced each other across the card table.
It would seem that Miss Fairhurst was not quite the modest and retiring young thing she initially appeared to be. Consequent upon that notion followed the one of whether she had other hidden depths. More passionate ones.
“Ragnor…did you hear?”
&nb
sp; He found himself addressed by Matthew and jerked his thoughts back to where they should be. “I apologise. My wits were wandering. Hear what?”
“Rolfe’s new venture. A gaming club near Pall Mall. He picked up the old Norford house, has had it redone, and just opened. With…” he leaned closer to Ragnor, “lady dealers.”
“Matthew, shush.” Lydia frowned at him. “I don’t believe either Judith or I wish to hear such things.” She blinked. “Um…one question though. They cannot be ladies, can they?”
Ragnor couldn’t help but notice the sudden clenching of Judith’s kid-gloved fingers. Was she upset by this conversation? Could be. But something, some tension in not only her hands but her face indicated that there was a deeper concern. He decided to do the gentlemanly thing.
“Not a subject to be discussed at a time like this,” he said, smiling politely at both women. “We should be focussing on the beauty of the day, how lucky we are to have our drive blessed with sunshine…and look. Here we are.”
The timing was perfect—they had indeed arrived at Hyde Park.
During the spring and summer, this was the place to see and be seen, with carriages, riders and throngs of people enjoying the open space, especially between the hours of four and six in the afternoon. That was a time that both made and broke reputations, stirred gossip and put many a rumour to rest. The cachet of being observed in a certain aristocratic carriage would intimate that a wedding was planned, no matter whether the engagement had been announced or not. And an unwed young lady had better be well aware of that fact or stand the risk of being labelled fast. A fate worse than death in the eyes of the Ton.
However, on a late autumn morning such as this, the visitors to Hyde Park were gentler and more forgiving; being mostly families with children and dogs, gentlemen out for their daily walks, or nannies pushing their charges in a variety of baby carriages.
There were also a few groups of young people doing just what the Davenports, Ragnor and Judith intended to do, which was strolling over the lawns to the edge of the Serpentine and perhaps availing themselves of the benches there for a few moments. All while engaging in polite conversation.
