by Sahara Kelly
“Oh.” He stared at her.
“But…but, dear sir, when the subject of marriage arose, you did an about-face and became the most arrogantly pompous idiot I’ve yet to run into.” She raised an accusing eyebrow at him. “So I want to know why this Ragnor appeared and replaced your usual self.”
“I…I…I don’t know,” he stumbled over the words. “It’s…marriage. Forever. It’s frightening, I suppose…” He ran a hand through his hair.
“You knew that.”
“Yes, I did.” He lifted his head. “Marriages aren’t always bluebells and butterflies, you know.”
“That’s true,” she said, feeling her way carefully. “But there are more good ones than bad ones, I like to think.”
“You have a good one,” he shot back. “It’s easy for you to say.”
Knowing she was close to the root of the matter, Maud proceeded warily. “That leads me to suppose you’ve had experience of a marriage that was not a good one. Let me guess. Your parents?” It was a shot in the dark, she realised, but his fingers clenched on the tablecloth and she knew she’d hit her target.
“Yes.” He bit out the response.
“Then…” She held up her hand as he made to continue. “…I do not need to know, Ragnor. But Judith does.”
He blew out a breath. “She does. At least I think she does. I may have said something about it last night.”
“If you wish to marry her, then do so with no secrets between you. She’s not known a happy family life herself; I’d like to hope she can make one with you. But be honest with her and make sure she understands. That way both of you will know what you’re taking on.”
Ragnor rose. “Forgive me, my Lady. You’ve given me a lot to think about. Will you give me leave to depart? I need to change my attire, for one thing…”
Maud rose as well. “Don’t be angry. Or be angry with me if you must. But be honest and gentle with Judith. I believe her heart may be more vulnerable at this time than you might think.”
Ragnor bowed, and hurried out, leaving Maud hoping she’d said the right words and done the right things.
*~~*~~*
Judith emerged from her room just in time to hear the front door closing downstairs. She walked along the hallway to the landing and looked over it, seeing Hobson taking a tray of notes and letters from a servant.
Sir Laurence came up behind her. “Everything all right, my dear?”
She smiled at him. “Yes, thank you. It was rather an uproar last night, though, wasn’t it?”
He bit his lip. “I’m afraid so. And in many ways, I’m responsible.”
“The brandy?”
“The brandy,” he sighed. “Can’t imagine how such a thing could happen.”
Judith grinned and took his arm as they began to walk downstairs. “Actually, don’t tell anyone, but I thought it was rather fun to see the gentlemen so…um…relaxed, shall we say?”
“I’m glad you thought so, because Maud damn near boxed my ears when we were alone last night.” He shook his head.
“Well I’m sure it won’t happen again,” comforted Judith.
“It certainly won’t,” said Maud, overhearing the last comment as the two of them drifted in. “Come and have breakfast. And Judith, we must talk.”
“Er, yes,” she sighed. “I suppose we must.”
She took her time, selecting her eggs carefully, waiting for Sir Laurence to add his favourite kidneys to his plate, and then helping herself to a warm bun.
Maud was still at the table reading her letters when Judith was done. It seemed there would be no escaping her this morning, so she took the seat opposite, and nodded as Hobson hovered with the teapot. “Just the thing, Hobson. Thank you.” She squared her shoulders. “And I should apologise for my appalling behaviour last night. You were most forbearing.”
He nodded, unbending slightly. “Least said, soonest done, Miss. And nothing compared to some of the…er…discussions I’ve had to adjudicate.”
“Very true, Hobson, very true,” nodded Lady Maud.
“More tea, My Lady?” He offered to refresh her cup.
“Yes, I think so. Although God knows I’ve drunk enough tea this morning to float Nelson’s flagship.”
“I doubt Nelson would have approved,” observed her husband. “More of a rum man, I heard. Anything interesting in that lot?” He pointed at the letters as he sat.
“Not particularly, but some that you’ll probably wish to deal with. These.” She indicated a small pile to her left. “The rest I’ll sort out.” The much larger pile seemed to consist of elegant stationery—invitations, no doubt—and one or two personal notes.
“Speaking of correspondence,” Lady Maud glanced at Judith. “I have a letter from Giles.”
“Oh, lovely.” Judith hurriedly finished a mouthful of eggs. “He’s well, I trust?”
“Indeed yes.” Maud nodded. “It seems that Fivetrees may well be yours, Judith. There are only a few more details to be worked out, but he’s being told that the Fairhursts have no interest in the property and don’t expect much financial gain from it, only a lot of legal expenses in the settling.”
“And they have no interest in me either,” she said sadly. “If it has no value to them, then there’s no problem letting the worthless daughter of the black sheep have it, is what they’re saying.”
Maud looked at her. “I cannot argue your logic, and yes, I think you’re right. But they aren’t. Please remember that? Every member of every family has value, in one way or another. If the Fairhursts continue in this vein, they’ll find the line dying out within two generations…three at most.”
“And good riddance to ‘em I say,” added Sir Laurence over the top of his paper. “You are part of our family now, my dear. So let those dimwitted cabbage-headed Fairhursts rot.”
Judith, caught off guard by this warm sentiment, gulped down a sob. “You are too kind. Both of you.”
“Hush. Eat your breakfast, because we need to speak of Ragnor and you’re going to need your strength.”
“We are? Do we have to?”
Maud laughed. “That is the refrain of the morning, and my answer is always yes. Yes, we have to.”
“Is he still here?” Judith took a sip of tea.
“No, he left a little while ago. Bit embarrassed I think, to wake up and find himself on our sofa.”
Sir Laurence laughed. “Sorry I missed that,” he said. “Could have had a lot of fun tweaking the lad on that one.”
Maud pointed her teacup at her husband. “You, sir, should eat your breakfast in silence. You are responsible for the unfortunate mistake that rendered some of our guests…er…”
“Yes?” His eyebrows rose in amusement.
“Um…you know…castaway.”
“To be accurate, they weren’t, but I’ll accept that, and yes, it was my fault.” He rattled his paper. “I’ll make sure I apologise to them all when I see ‘em. But honestly? I think they enjoyed themselves.”
“Well, that’s neither here nor there.” Maud turned back to Judith, who had been quietly watching the byplay with an amused grin.
“So. You have received a proposal of marriage, Judith, albeit in a roundabout sort of way. And since you’re here, with us, and a part of our family as Laurie just said, I’m going to act as your Mama.” Her gaze turned serious. “How do you feel about it?”
Judith sipped her tea, trying to gather her thoughts. The topic had been in her mind before she fell asleep and popped back in as soon as she opened her eyes. But it was so confused.
“I would like to marry him, Lady Maud. I know my feelings. And I do care for him. More profoundly than I imagined ever caring for anyone, to be blunt. But—and it’s a big obstacle—I am afraid his sentiments are purely practical.” She closed her eyes briefly, remembering the power of his kiss. “He’s everything I could ever want. But not once has he ever said he cared deeply for me.” She opened her eyes again and looked across the table. “Am I a fool to want
my future husband to love me?”
Chapter Nineteen
J udith set aside the problem of Ragnor and his marriage proposal as she slipped into a blue gown—the one she’d been given from Lord Rolfe’s wardrobe collection.
It was traditionally styled—the silk skirt falling from a high waist, the bodice gathered silk of the same shade, and the sleeves luscious puffs of blue barely topping her shoulders. It felt as if it was about to fall off, but the design held it in place. She loved it, outrageously sensual though it was.
The hem of the skirt was heavily embroidered with glittering stones, a band of the same embroidery circled the edge of her bodice and the short sleeves had a larger band which covered her arms almost to her elbows.
To complete the ensemble, a pair of long white gloves, a small matching reticule and a glittering silver mask.
Sir Laurence tapped on the door and she bid him enter, smiling as his eyebrows rose at the sight of her. “My goodness, that is an extraordinary gown, my dear.” He blinked. “And you wear it extremely well.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” She curtseyed, holding her breath. “Good. It doesn’t fall off when I curtsey.”
He huffed out a laugh. “I should hope not.”
“I wasn’t sure, so thanks for helping me find out. And if you could…” She held up the mask. “It ties behind.”
With the ease of years of experience, Sir Laurence took the mask and secured it on Judith’s head. “Say what you like about the man, Rolfe doesn’t spare the pennies when it comes to this sort of thing.”
Judith nodded. “I wish I could convince everyone that he’s not a villain. I have talked to him. Watched his eyes as we conversed. I’m not a terrible judge of character, Sir Laurence, even though I know I’ll make mistakes in that area for some time to come. But Lord Rolfe? I do believe he is maligned unfairly.”
“We’re trusting your opinions, Judith,” he answered. “But it’s good to know your friends will be there tonight. Just in case.”
She nodded. “Yes. Lydia and Matthew are coming, as are Sir Miles and Rose. I hope Ivy can attend. Her note said she wasn’t sure, since her Mama had another invitation for her. And of course…” she glanced at Sir Laurence, “Sir Ragnor will be there. I trust his disapproval won’t be too obvious, or I’ll never get a chance to find out who—if anyone—is cheating.”
“I say again. Be very careful. This may seem like an exciting adventure, but if there really is a cheater lurking at one of Rolfe’s tables, they might object to your denunciation. Use caution, Judith.”
His voice was unusually sombre, and she took his words to heart. “I will, I promise. I cannot do anything about whoever is cheating, merely point them out to Lord Rolfe. He will have to take care of the rest.”
“Wise girl.”
“Well then…” she glanced around, “I believe I am ready.”
“The carriage is awaiting you and will leave you at the rear door. I’ve asked Robby to keep the vehicle nearby, unless either you or one of your friends tells him otherwise. He knows who you all are, so if you need to get out quickly, you will have a means of getting home.”
As was his custom, Sir Laurence walked her down the stairs to the hall. Maud and Hobson were already there, Hobson with a thick black domino over his arm.
“Here you are, and don’t you look just lovely?” Maud admired Judith’s gown. “That colour is stunning. We must have something made up for you in it.”
Judith dipped a polite curtsey again. “Thank you.” She grinned. “Practising. And so far, so good.”
Hobson swirled the domino out, displaying a flair for the dramatic. “For you, Miss Judith. Lady Maud felt it appropriate.” He settled it around her shoulders. It did exactly what it was designed to do—hid everything but her head.
Maud twitched the folds. “There. Yes, I was right. Perfect. I don’t believe you’d wish anyone to discover your destination Judith, and that colour is closely associated with Rolfe’s establishment. So the subtler you can be, the better, wouldn’t you say?”
“Indeed, and I thank you for thinking of it,” answered Judith. “I’m very grateful and I’ll take good care of it.” She touched the soft silk-lined garment.
“Haven’t worn that in years,” mused Maud. “We should go to Vauxhall sometime soon, Laurie. I miss those masquerades.”
“Could we wait until spring? Demmed cold there right now.”
Maud rolled her eyes and laughed. “Very well. Perhaps the Wednesday Club will host a masquerade in January. We’ll see.”
“I must go,” said Judith, moving to the door. “The others are going to arrive fairly early, so I won’t be on my own for very long.”
“Oh…do you have a name? I know all the dealers need names and never use their own,” called Maud as Judith reached the steps.
She turned back. “Yes I do. For tonight, I shall be Mademoiselle Mystère.”
“Excellent,” laughed Sir Laurence. “Bonne chance, Mam’selle.”
Judith entered the carriage, pulled the dark domino tightly around her and raised the hood, shadowing the silver sparkle of her mask. To a casual observer, she was nothing more than a lady off to an evening’s entertainment.
She might have looked like that, but it was certain she didn’t feel like that.
Her hands were steady, but she confessed to nerves…not about the cards or playing piquet with strangers; that she could manage without difficulty. No, she was more concerned with spotting whoever might be cheating Lord Rolfe. He’d told her which games he thought were losing money, so she knew where to start, but how to go about the rest of it? That she was going to have to sort out as it happened.
And of course, beneath all her careful planning, was the knowledge that would see Ragnor again.
She’d kissed him with everything she had last night. Did he remember? Had it made a difference? She had tried to tell him how she felt about him with that kiss, but he’d wandered down a path that led to other things that included forbidden touches and shocking suggestions, all of which she wouldn’t have minded in the least, but not until he decided whether he loved her, or just found her appealingly attractive.
Because only love would work for Judith. She wasn’t about to walk into her future if the first step was a shaky one. Lady Maud had understood and agreed.
Within moments the carriage slowed, making its careful way down the narrow mews behind Lord Rolfe’s club. The door was open, light shone through and she could hear voices inside.
This was it….no more waiting.
It was time to become Mademoiselle Mystère and play some cards.
With her heart beating rapidly beneath the dark cloak, Judith walked into the recesses of Rolfe’s Rooms.
“Miss?” A servant stepped up to her.
“Hallo. I’m to deal this evening.”
He leaned forward. “Would you be Miss Fairhurst then?”
“Shh.” She held her finger to her lips. “Yes, but don’t tell anyone. I’m Mademoiselle Mystère tonight.”
“What a lovely name. I wish I’d thought of it.”
Judith turned as a tall figure entering behind her, spoke in dulcet tones. The woman was wearing a similarly coloured gown, and a confident smile. “You’ll have such fun, dear child. I chose Mademoiselle Epithymia…” she leaned forward. “It means desire, you know.”
“Ah,” said Judith. “Well then.” She knew she was speaking to Cordelia Mannering, a lady whose reputation was…colourful, to say the least.
“Come along. I’ll show you where you can put your things. I’m getting to be quite an old-hand at this.” With her head held high, and her mask glittering, Miss Mannering led Judith to a small anteroom where she hung up her cloak and straightened her gown in front of the mirror.
Cordelia did the same. “There. Ready?”
“Of course,” nodded Judith, letting the other woman lead the way.
“What games shall you deal?” Cordelia tossed the question over her shoulder.
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Feeling rather diminished by the stunning and tall beauty before her, Judith kept her responses simple. “Piquet.”
Cordelia stopped short, and Judith barely avoided crashing into her.
“What? You play piquet?” Cordelia’s question was asked in a somewhat stunned tone of voice.
“Yes.”
“How well?”
“Well enough for Lord Rolfe,” she answered, her chin rising at the doubtful note that had crept into Cordelia’s voice.
“Indeed you do.” The man himself peered around a door. “Come along, ladies. Cordelia…” he nodded. “Miss Judith. Or should I say Mademoiselle Mystère?” The smile was warm, and Judith’s nerves settled.
He looked at Cordelia. “She does indeed play piquet. She’s one of the best I’ve ever met, so I’m happy to welcome her this evening. I’m sure you are as well, my dear?” His eyes drifted to the taller woman.
She huffed. “If you say so, dear Gadsby. I shall take my usual hazard table.” She glanced at Judith. “It’s always busy, fun and noisy, so I trust we won’t distract you from your games…”
“As do I,” returned Judith.
“Not to worry,” said Rolfe, offering his arm. “I’ll show you where your table is. This way.” She rested her hand on his sleeve and allowed him to guide her out onto the floor of what had probably been a small ballroom once upon a time. But now it featured an assortment of green baize covered gaming tables, already attended by several women in the Rolfe-blue gowns.
Cordelia walked to one side as Rolfe led Judith to the other. Tucked in a corner, with sconces of candles high above, was a perfect piquet table, already set with several piquet decks.
“There is paper here, should you or your player wish to record the scores…” Lord Rolfe indicated a small side table. “And of course your opponent will most likely have some sort of drink with him, which he can rest on this stand.” A marble column, reaching just to the right height, stood next to the chair across from where Judith would sit.
