Promise of the Earl: Regency Romance (Season of Brides)

by Joyce Alec

  Johnston grinned. “Very good, old man. I shall make the arrangements for two days hence.”

  4

  Gaines did not take much convincing, by Johnston’s account, although he had insisted on choosing the man to deal the cards himself. Johnston had gone with him, but they had finally agreed to ask a Sir Thomas, who—for a small sum of money—was not only willing to deal the cards and watch the game progress, but also promised to keep all record of the event entirely to himself.

  “The man is a little impoverished,” Johnston recounted, as Edward prepared the table. “So the money bestowed on him for his service will not be easily discounted. He will not say anything, I am quite sure of it, for fear that his monies will be requested for return, in recompense for his loose tongue.”

  Edward nodded tersely. “Very good, Johnston,” he muttered, ensuring his cravat was straight and trying not to allow the tension he felt to show on his features. “I thank you for all you have done to arrange this.”

  Johnston nodded, giving a slight shrug. “It is the least I can do. I know how important finding the man responsible for the fire is to you.”

  Frowning, Edward turned to him. “You must not allow my life to impinge upon yours, however. I have greatly appreciated all of your efforts in helping me return to society, but you must not stop yourself from living your own life.”

  To his surprise, Johnston grinned. “And I have been doing just that, Turner. I will have you know that I have had my eye on a very pretty thing called Miss Huntly.”

  “Oh?”

  Johnston’s grin widened. “I have seen her at almost every occasion we have attended,” he continued happily. “I am seriously considering asking her to accept my court.”

  “Then I do hope she accepts,” Edward replied fervently. “You could do with settling down, Johnston.”

  “And what about you?” Johnston asked, sitting down at the card table. “Have you had anyone show any sort of interest in your company?”

  For a moment, the image of the lady he had met in the library a few days previously flashed into Edward’s mind, but he dismissed it almost at once. “It seems all the more impossible with each and every occasion I attend,” he replied lightly. “I am something of a gargoyle, am I not?”

  Johnston grinned. “Yes, you are.”

  Edward laughed aloud, the tension he felt dissipating.

  “Although you might consider frowning less,” Johnston quipped, tilting his head as though to study Edward. “That would make you look a little less ferocious.”

  Edward was about to fire back a retort, only for the door to open. The butler announced Gaines, who walked in looking as though he was in the middle of some kind of grand adventure.

  “Capital,” he boomed, bowing to each of them in turn. “Capital, I must say!”

  Trying to remain as jovial as possible, Edward gave the man a small smile and walked to the side table. “Can I get you a drink, Gaines?”

  “Just a small whiskey, if you please,” Gaines replied, looking at him with one eyebrow raised. “I shall need all of my wits about me for this evening.”

  Johnston cleared his throat, drawing the man’s attention. “And I hope you have spoken to no one of tonight’s game, my lord? You know that it will not go ahead if you have breathed even a single word of it.”

  Gaines sniffed and drew himself up to his full height, which—given his short stature—was not particularly impressive.

  “I have spoken to no one,” he swore, putting his hand over his heart. “My daughter believes I am at White’s and, besides her, there is no one in the house.”

  Satisfied, Edward gave Johnston a small nod, handing Gaines his glass.

  “Then we are just to await the arrival of Sir Thomas,” Johnston said calmly. “Then the game can begin.”

  * * *

  Thankfully, Sir Thomas did not take long to arrive, and the game commenced as soon as he had satisfied himself that all was in order.

  Edward tried to ignore the churning in his stomach as the cards were dealt, memories of his past behavior flooding his mind. How loudly he had crowed over each and every win, ensuring that, had he cheated, the cards were safely hidden on his person until he was well away from the card table. He had not needed to cheat often, but it had been important that society continued to believe that Lady Luck was always on his side.

  This time, however, Edward was determined that he would play fairly, that he would not resort to any of his previous games. He had to win against Gaines, for only then would the man stop in his determination to have Edward back at the gambling table again and again. However, in this regard, Edward was more than a little confident. Gaines was a man who could not hide his emotions, and Edward was quite certain he would be able to read the man with ease. He was also quite determined that he was going to take a fair amount from Gaines, so the man would never again ask him to play cards.

  “Shall we begin?” Gaines asked, a wide grin on his face.

  Edward nodded, throwing a quick glance at Johnston, who was regarding Gaines with a look of disdain. It appeared his friend thought much the same as he when it came to Gaines’s behavior.

  A few hours later, and Gaines no longer had that wide smile on his face. In fact, he had become more and more despondent as each round had progressed. Initially, Edward had allowed the man to win a few rounds, seeing the way Gaines’s confidence made him cocky. From that, Edward was able to see how the man’s expression changed whenever he had good cards in his hand, as well as when he had the opposite.

  “I believe I have almost cleaned you out, Gaines,” Edward said quietly. “You have nothing left on the table, it appears.”

  “I have more blunt,” Gaines exclaimed, his round face growing red. “I am not quite finished yet. I might still be able to recover!”

  “It is over, Gaines,” Johnston muttered, passing a hand over his eyes. “Come now, you do not want to lose more than you can afford.”

  Edward wanted to add that he was no longer that kind of man, the man that took whatever it was the other gentlemen had to offer, even if it meant they lost their entire fortune. He was glad that he had been able to, thus far, play the game without feeling its lure, its constant pull to play yet another round. In fact, Edward would be more than a little relieved once the game was over, glad that he would not have to touch another playing card again.

  “No, no,” Gaines protested, refusing to get up from the table. “I have more I can play with.”

  “I will not accept vowels, Gaines,” Edward said wearily.

  Gaines’s face grew even redder, his eyes glancing from Edward to Johnston and back again. “There must be something I can put on the table,” he begged, growing more and more desperate. “I am sure that, with only one more hand, I will be able to get myself back in the game.”

  Growing frustrated with the gentleman, Edward blew out one long breath, his brows furrowed. “I have said no, Gaines.”

  “Why not?” Gaines wheedled, his dark eyes pinning Edward with their gaze. “Are you afraid that I will manage to regain my hand? That I will be able to defeat you after all?”

  “No, it is not that in the least,” Edward replied frostily, well aware that the man was attempting to bait him. “You are losing, Gaines. In fact, and I am sure Sir Thomas here would agree, you have lost. Completely.”

  “I have two guineas left!” Gaines exclaimed frantically. “We have one more round, at the very least.”

  “Then we shall play for your two guineas,” Edward stated firmly. “And then that will be the end of it.”

  Of course, Gaines lost his two guineas, and the game was at an end. The man blustered and begged, but Edward was determined.

  “I am finished, Gaines,” he stated, time and time again. “You need to get up from the table.”

  “No, I am quite sure I have something left to offer,” Gaines protested, searching his pockets. “There must be something.”

  Growing angry, Edward slammed his hand dow
n on the table. “Even if you were to offer me something more, Gaines, I should not accept it!”

  A sly look suddenly crossed the man’s face, and leaning forward, he captured Edward with his gaze.

  “Not even if I offered you a wife?”

  Edward could not help his snort of derision, thinking the man had quite lost his senses. “Whilst I will admit that I require the heir and the spare, Gaines, I can hardly believe that you would willingly saddle someone to the likes of me, who would settle her into her own estate once the children are produced. Do you not know that I am something of a cruel man?” He rolled his eyes, his sarcasm biting, and even Johnston was forced to smother his mirth with a loud and prolonged clearing of his throat, but Gaines appeared entirely unmoved.

  “Just think of it,” Gaines said softly. “A wife of your own, one who would live with you under this very roof, or wherever you wish to reside. One who would warm your bed and bring you all the pleasures you have long been missing.”

  To Edward’s surprise, he found himself hesitating. He had thought that, whilst it would be difficult to find himself a lady of standing to marry him, given his features and his disgraced reputation, it would not be impossible. But with each and every day and with nothing more than whispers and glances of horror, he had found himself growing resigned to the fact that it simply would not occur. Now, apparently, Gaines was offering this to him in exchange for a simple round of betting.

  “You are not thinking of accepting him!” Johnston said, aghast. “Come now, Turner, be reasonable.”

  “I am being quite levelheaded, thank you, Johnston,” Edward bit out, seeing the way Gaines grinned at him. “Gaines, you are being utterly ridiculous. The game is at an end.”

  “Is it?” Gaines murmured, making no move to rise from the table. “Just think of it, Turner. Think about what I am offering for one moment longer before you make your decision.”

  “And how exactly do you intend to fulfill what you put on the table, should you lose?” Edward asked, despite his inner conscience protesting that he end the conversation immediately. “Are you to procure some wench from the back streets of London and think I will wed her?” He managed a harsh laugh. “You must take me for a fool.”

  “No, not in the least,” Gaines replied quietly. “I have a daughter.”

  The man is a monster, Edward thought at once, managing to contain his visible reaction to the man’s thoughtless disregard for his own flesh and blood.

  “She has failed to accept any gentleman’s suit and, in truth, does not often receive their attentions either.”

  Johnston rolled his eyes. “And what has she done that would push such gentlemen away?”

  “Nothing,” Gaines answered, frowning. “She is intent on reading and the like, and I can barely get her out into society as it is, for she cares very little for it.”

  “And is stunningly beautiful nevertheless,” Johnston finished, with a deep trace of irony in his voice. “You go too far, Gaines.”

  Edward’s mind was whirling. Sense told him to push the idea away, to rise from the table and finish the game, but there was something about Gaines’s offer that he could not refuse. The hopes that had begun to fade - to have a wife to give him children one day. He knew that it would never occur otherwise. He did not care for love or affection, nor for going out into society, but it appeared as though the chit did not care for such things either. And surely I would be taking her away from the monster she calls father, he said to himself, his fingers now itching to shake Gaines’s hand, which was slowly being inched across the table, as he muttered some particulars to Sir Thomas, who was busy scribbling things down on a piece of paper.

  When he reflected back on the following moment, Edward could not say what it was that had possessed him to reach across the table and shake Gaines’s hand firmly, ignoring Johnston’s gasp of horror. Perhaps he had been frustrated with Gaines’s inability to accept that he had lost and angry with Gaines continued insistence that he play in the first place. He wanted to believe that it was because he felt sorry for Gaines’s daughter, but deep down, Edward had to admit that a large part of him had wanted to put Gaines in his place.

  Whatever the reason, Edward had found himself signing the paper that held the particulars of the agreement before continuing with the game. It had been less than an hour later that he had found himself the victor once more, rising from the table and leaving Gaines sitting, horrorstruck, to see his own way out.

  * * *

  Nursing a brandy, Edward stared into the flames, watching the way they licked up the wood and coal. He felt entirely numb. He had not expected to feel this way, thinking that he would end the game with Gaines feeling more than victorious, or, at the very least, pleased with his performance.

  The door to the library flew open, slamming hard against the wall.

  “Have you quite lost your senses?”

  Edward did not know what to say, thinking that he had done precisely that.

  “You are to have your betrothal announced tomorrow?” Johnston continued, sounding quite incredulous. “To a woman you have never met?”

  “It has been done before,” Edward replied weakly. “Besides, it was too good an offer to pass up.”

  “Pah!” Johnston spat, flinging himself into the chair opposite Edward. “Now you are sounding like the man you once were. Had I known that one night at the gambling table would have swung you completely out of your senses, then I would not have suggested the idea in the first place!”

  Edward sighed heavily, allowing Johnston to continue his monologue, hearing every word and accepting each and every rebuke that came from his friend’s mouth. He quite deserved it.

  “What on earth possessed you to agree?” Johnston finished, his bluster finally ebbing away. “I can hardly believe you have done such a thing, Turner.”

  There had never been anything but honesty between himself and Johnston, and Edward was not about to start covering up the truth now. He met his friend’s glare with an unequivocal apology, aware of just how rashly he had acted.

  “I am sorry, Johnston,” he said heavily. “I do not believe I was thinking clearly.”

  “That is more than apparent,” Johnston stated, sitting back in his chair. “Although you have no need to apologize to me, only perhaps to the poor lady caught in the middle of it.”

  “I could let Gaines out of the agreement, I suppose,” Edward said eventually. “There is no reason for him to feel forced into doing what was agreed upon.”

  “Oh no!” Johnston exclaimed, now wagging his finger at Edward. “You both signed the agreement, did you not?”

  “I did,” Edward protested. “But that does not mean—”

  “Then it is binding,” Johnston interrupted, refusing to let him finish. “And therefore, as stated, your betrothal to Lord Gaines’s daughter – for you do not even know her name as yet – will be sent to the papers.” Getting up, he stalked across the room and poured a measure of brandy into a waiting glass. “May I be the first to wish you well.”

  Hating the ironic tone in his friend’s voice, Edward sat back, put his glass to one side, and kneaded his forehead with his fingers. Now that he saw it, away from the table and away from Gaines, it was utterly ridiculous of him to have agreed to such a thing. Unfortunately, he knew that Johnston was quite right, the agreement was binding. He might even take the lady to court, should she refuse to wed him, and no doubt, he would win. Women were seen as property, able to be bought and sold, treated by their husband in whatever way they wished. However, that was not going to be Edward’s stance.

  “I shall visit the lady tomorrow,” he said, looking back up towards his friend. “I shall tell her that she is under no obligation to marry me.”

  “But she is,” Johnston replied, seating himself once more and, much to Edward’s relief, looking a great deal calmer. “The agreement.”

  “Hang the agreement!” Edward retorted, slamming one fist onto his knee. “I have beaten Gaines, ta
ken every penny he placed on the table, and I do not need to take his daughter also. I will not treat her as something that can be bought and sold for a price, Johnston. I am not that kind of man.”

  There was a prolonged silence after Edward’s statement, his words still ringing around the room. His shoulders slumped as he gazed, once more, into the fire, as though it would bring him some kind of comfort.

  “I never considered you that kind of man, Turner,” Johnston replied eventually. “I am sure she will be glad for your respect and consideration. I just pray that Gaines will not insist upon it.”

  Edward sighed again, wishing this night had never occurred. It had been meant to push Gaines away from him so that he might once again focus entirely on the sole reason he had returned to London. Instead, it had now complicated matters all the more, for the last thing he needed was have the ton whisper about him and his bride-to-be, who had so quickly become engaged. The truth about his game with Gaines would soon come out; he was quite sure of it. He had been utterly foolish, and he had no other recourse but to admit it.

  What would happen if Gaines did insist on honoring their agreement? Edward considered this for only a moment before dismissing it entirely, knowing that, given that Gaines had lost a fair amount of coin last evening, he would not refuse to accept such an offer.

  A small part of him did wonder what his potential bride might look like, in both appearance and character. Gaines did not seem to care for her particularly, evidently upset with her unladylike interest in expanding her mind, but then again, Gaines did not strike Edward as the most filial of parents. It was more than evident that he saw his daughter only by what she could bring him, in terms of an alliance. How frustrating it must be for him to have a daughter who refused to bend to his will and accept the hand of the gentlemen Gaines had pressed her to consent to.

  The corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile as he thought of it, quite sure that Gaines was going to have something of a thunderstorm on his hands when he told his daughter what he had done.