Meridon (Wideacre Trilogy 3)

by Philippa Gregory

  The porter had gone across the room to whisper in the ear of a man who was sitting sideways to the door. He glanced up towards us and rose to his feet, came across the room twirling his glossy red mustachios. ‘Captain’ Thomas, I bet silently with myself. And as like a captain in the cavalry as any fool and coward can reasonably appear. His partner at the table stayed seated. I guessed that would be Bob Redfern.

  ‘Morning gentlemen,’ he said. He even had the voice to perfection, the cavalry officer’s confident drawl. ‘Good of you to come to my little place here. Can I interest you in a game?’

  I hesitated. I had not thought further ahead than to get to Perry before he gambled Wideacre away for ever. But he was deeper in than I had dreamed. Captain Thomas was not running a cheap little fleecing here. This was a well-staffed club with three servants at least within call and a dozen wealthy patrons, most of whom wore swords.

  I looked around quickly. With his back to the entrance, slumped in his chair, was Perry. His golden curls looked dark and dirty in the flickering candlelight, his head was bowed as he stared at his hand of cards. The empty place opposite him, which had been the captain’s, was surrounded with a pile of papers and gold coins. They were unmistakably IOUs from Perry. Any one of them might be the Wideacre deeds, and Will and I were too late.

  ‘You certainly can,’ I said. My mouth was very dry, and my throat too tight. My voice came out a little higher than I meant, too girlish. But it did not tremble. Beside me I saw Will shift a little, like a wrestler places his feet when he is ready for a fight. I reached back to the table where our wine was poured and took a gulp.

  ‘What’s your game?’ I asked. I nodded towards Perry’s table with assumed confidence. ‘What are you playing?’

  ‘Lord Havering and I were playing piquet while waiting for a partner for whist. Perhaps you and your companion…?’

  He glanced at Will who swayed on his feet. ‘I’ll sit this one out!’ he said hastily.

  ‘Well, let me introduce you then to Mr Redfern who will take a hand with us,’ Captain Thomas said smoothly. ‘I’m Captain Thomas, this is Lord Peregrine Havering.’ Perry glanced up, his blue eyes hooded. He blinked owlishly and slumped back down again. ‘And this is Mr Redfern. Play whist, Bob?’

  Perry straightened, he looked bemusedly at me, blinking like a daylight owl. I tensed. He had seen me dressed as a lad before, that spring morning in the Havering woods when he had thought we might be friends. He stared at me.

  ‘Do I know you?’ he asked confused.

  I nodded confidently. ‘Aye, but I doubt you remember, my lord. We met at Brighton races, at the start of last summer. I was with Charles Prenderly, staying at his house.’

  ‘Oh,’ Perry said blankly. ‘Beg pardon. Of course.’

  ‘Will you play whist, my lord?’ Captain Thomas asked.

  Perry blinked. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Got to keep the same stakes. Got to have a go at winning them back. Daren’t go home without them. That’s a fact.’

  Captain Thomas shot me a rueful look. ‘His lordship’s dipped deep tonight,’ he said. ‘He wants his revenge from me.’

  I pushed my hat back carelessly on my red curls. Building inside me was a mad recklessness I had never known before. The hard-working, tough little child seemed to be melting, in this most unlikely moment. I felt as if I could have laughed aloud. My whole life was on the table of a common gambling house, my legal-wedded husband dead drunk and defeated before me, the only man I loved tense as a twitched horse behind me. I tipped back my head and laughed aloud.

  ‘Maybe I’ll bring him luck!’ I said. ‘Will you play whist with me, m’lord?’

  Perry blinked, his rosebud mouth down-turned as if he felt like crying. ‘Shouldn’t change the game,’ he said. ‘How can I win it back if we change the game?’

  Captain Thomas hesitated. Perry could turn nasty if he was not humoured, but the porter would have whispered in his ear about the heavy purse in my pocket and how it chinked with gold. Perry’s friend Charles Prenderly was a wealthy young man. Any bilker would keep a friend of his at the gambling table if he possibly could.

  ‘Well, keep the stakes,’ I said cheerfully. The insane temptation to laugh aloud kept rising up in me. I was Meridon the gypsy tonight indeed. No land, no husband, no lover, and no chance of getting out of here without a thorough beating if I set a foot wrong. ‘Keep the stakes as they are, I’ll buy into the game. Then m’lord can win his fortune back if the cards fall his way.’

  Captain Thomas gleamed.

  ‘I’ll buy in, too,’ said Bob Redfern quickly. ‘Say a hundred guineas, captain?’

  I reached into my purse and counted out the coins. I held the purse still this time so that they should not see that it was near empty now. This was my stake for Wideacre. I would only have one chance.

  Will lounged over to the doorway with his glass of wine to watch the play. His mouth was set hard and I saw him swallow. He had no gambling instinct, my solid Will Tyacke. I slid a wink at him and he scowled a warning at me. He had no idea what I planned to do.

  Captain Thomas slid some counters across to me and to Bob Redfern. Perry had a handful in his pocket. He brought them out and turned them over and over as if he had hoped they had bred into more in the darkness of his pocket. Even in my fear for Wideacre I had a second’s pity for him. He had lost everything tonight, and he still only half knew it.

  Captain Thomas dealt. I watched him as he did so. It was a straight deal as far as I could tell. Clean cards, new pack, dealt from the top. He pushed the pack to Perry who cut the cards to choose suit. Diamonds.

  I had a moderate hand and I won a couple of tricks and lost a couple. I did not care much during this game. I wanted to see how they worked. The deal passed to Perry and he fumbled with the cards but got them out. Bob Redfern called the suit. He called clubs. I had a wonderful hand. I won four of the six tricks and the deal and the calling of the suit came to me. I called clubs again for a mixed hand and took two tricks. Bob Redfern took three, and took the call for the next deal.

  So far I had seen nothing. At the end of the game I was eight guineas down to Captain Redfern. Perry had lost ten. I could not see how they did it. As far as I could tell Perry had lost by simple incompetence. He was not able to remember what cards had been played and who had called the suit. The tricks he had won had come from luck – a high card in the right suit.

  In the second game I saw it. I should have spotted it at once. I had watched card-sharpers at work all my life. These two had, no doubt, a repertoire of all the tricks: dealing off the bottom, marked cards, hidden cards, stacked decks of cards. But with Perry and me in the game they worked as a simple team. I remembered my da at the steps of the wagon sitting me opposite him and holding his mug of tea up to his ear, ‘Ear means ace,’ he had said. ‘Ear: Ace. Mouth: King. Shoulder: Queen. Easiest trick in the world, Merry. And don’t you forget it. Right hand red. Left hand black. Hands clenched looks like a club, see? Third finger on thumb looks like a heart, see? Hand out fingers together looks like a spade. Fingers open looks like diamonds. Easy.’

  I never thought I should thank that man for anything in the world. I never thought he had given me aught worth having. But in that dirty smoky little club I bent my head to hide my smile.

  I had them. The two damned cheats who were robbing me of my land. I knew what they were doing. Whichever of them had the best cards of any suit signalled to the other. One or other of them could keep ahead of the game to win the deal most times. They could let me and Perry win from time to time to keep our interest in the game and our hopes up. The first trumps were called by cutting the pack and they could cheat on that by stacking the pack if they needed. Most times they would not need. It was a simple game and a simple cheat.

  And all it needed was a simple opposition.

  They were using the code my da had taught me. I watched them under my lowered eyelashes and smiled inwardly. I could read it as well as they. I could see that Bob Redf
ern had high diamonds, and that was why the captain called diamonds when he had only one or two in his hand. I knew then to use my low couple of diamonds to trump tricks to keep myself in the game.

  They were going for me. For my little pile of guineas. Perry’s miserable bewailings of his luck meant nothing to them. He would scrawl some more IOUs as he staked more to try and win back Wideacre. But they had sucked Perry dry for tonight. The IOUs were well and good but they preferred gold – like mine; or deeds to property – like Perry’s.

  I held them off. I lost a guinea at a time, slowly, slowly, until I took their measure. I watched them. I did not have the time, nor did I think to watch Perry.

  The table suddenly jolted as he pushed it back.

  ‘I won’t play any more!’ he announced. He rocked his chair back and then dropped it foursquare on its legs. He scowled around at us, I saw his lower lip trembling and I knew he was sobering fast. I knew he was realizing what he had done.

  ‘Jolyon,’ he said piteously to the captain. ‘Jolyon, for God’s sake take my IOU for the deeds. I should never have put it on the table. You should never have accepted it.’

  The captain smiled but his eyes were cold. ‘Oh come now,’ he said. ‘You won a fortune off me at Newmarket. A fortune in gold too! Not some damned place miles away in the countryside entailed to the hilt. It’s the luck of the game lad! And my God! What a gamester you are!’

  ‘Never seen a finer one,’ Bob Redfern corroborated at once. ‘Never seen a finer.’

  Perry blinked rapidly. I knew there were tears in his eyes. ‘I broke a promise,’ he said. ‘I promised…a lady…that I’d not gamble with those deeds. It was only owing you so much, Jolyon, and thinking it would be a fine thing to stake Wideacre to clear all the debts in one gamble that led me on. I shouldn’t have done it. I hope you’ll accept a draft on my account instead.’

  Captain Thomas rose to his feet and clapped Perry on the shoulders.

  ‘Surely,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Surely. I’ll attend you tomorrow, shall I, old fellow? I’ll come around to your house at noon, shall I? I want you to see a new hunter I have, I fancy you’ll like him.’

  ‘And I can clear my debt with you then, can I?’ Perry demanded urgently. ‘You won’t let a day go? And you’ll keep the deeds safe?’

  ‘As safe as a babe new-born!’ the Captain said. He guided Perry to the door carefully and the porter swathed him in his silk-lined evening cloak. ‘Mind your step as you go home, Perry, I want you in one piece for tomorrow!’

  Perry paused at the top of the stair, his mouth working. ‘You won’t fail me, Jolyon, will you?’ he asked. ‘I promised her, I promised this lady most especially…’

  ‘Of course,’ Jolyon assured him. He waved his cigar and we heard Perry clatter down the stairs and then the bang of the outer door as he went out into the streets.

  The captain and Bob Redfern exchanged a slight inoffensive smile. They’d let Perry redeem the deeds for Wideacre only when they had priced the estate and checked its value.

  I laughed aloud, like a reckless boy: ‘Gambling for land, are we?’ I demanded. ‘Well, I’ve a fancy to win some land! What d’you say I put my place against this place of yours?’

  The captain laughed as careless as me, but I saw him shoot a quick, calculating look across the table at me, and also at Will.

  ‘And you, Will!’ I exclaimed. ‘Come on! It’s not often we come to London, and to be in a gentleman’s club and with a chance to win a fortune and all!’

  Will straightened up reluctantly. ‘I’d not put Home Farm on the table, not for all the money in the world,’ he said. ‘And you’d be mad to put your estate up, Michael. Why, you don’t even have the deeds yet, your pa’s shoes are still warm.’

  I thought that was pretty fast lying for an honest farm manager but I kept my eyes down and I laughed defiantly. ‘So what?’ I challenged. ‘It’s mine right enough, isn’t it? And why should I want to be buried in the country for the rest of my days?’

  I turned to the captain. ‘It’s the sweetest little estate you ever did see, just outside Salisbury,’ I said. ‘Not one good thing have I had out of it in my life. My father scrimped and saved and bought one little parcel of land after another until he had it all together. Not one penny would he spend on me. It’s only since his death I’ve been able to go to a half-decent tailor even! Now I’m in London I’m damned if I’ll sell myself short. I’ll put Gateley Estate on the table, up against your – whatever it’s called – and let the winner take both!’

  ‘Not so fast,’ the captain said. ‘Lord Perry was anxious that I keep the deeds safe.’

  I shrugged. ‘I’ll sell them back to him, or gamble ‘em back to him, never fear,’ I said. ‘You talk as if I’m certain to win. I surely feel lucky!’

  Will came forward softly. ‘This is madness,’ he said aloud. ‘You’ll never gamble your inheritance. The rents alone are worth four thousand pounds a year, Michael!’ In an undertone, for my ears alone he leaned forward and hissed: ‘What the devil are you playing at, Sarah?’

  I leaned back in my seat and beamed at him. I had that wonderful infallible feeling I had known when I saw Sea for the first time and knew that he would not throw me.

  I winked at the captain. ‘I don’t live like a rustic!’ I said. ‘I’ve come into my own at last, I’m ready to play like a gentleman, aye and live like one too.’

  ‘Well, good luck to you!’ said Bob Redfern. ‘Damme that calls for a bottle. Are you drinking burgundy, Mr…Mr…’

  ‘Tewkes,’ I said at random. ‘Michael Tewkes, Esquire, of Gateley, near Salisbury. Glad to meet you indeed.’

  I let him take my hand, it was still as rough and as calloused as any working squire. They had cut my nails short in the fever, my grip was hard.

  A fresh bottle was bought, and a new pack of cards.

  ‘What’ll it be?’ asked the captain. His eyes were bright, he had been drinking all evening but it was not that which made him pass his tongue across his lips as if for the taste of something sweet. He could smell a pigeon ripe for the plucking.

  ‘Michael, I promised your mother…’ Will said urgently.

  ‘Oh, sit down and take a hand,’ I said carelessly. ‘This is a jest between gentlemen, Will, not serious play. I’ll put my IOU for Gateley on the table against this other estate. If I come home with a house and land in my pocket d’you think anyone will complain? Sit down and play or sheer off!’

  The captain smiled sympathetically at Will. ‘It’s a hard row, keeping a young man out of trouble,’ he said. ‘But we’re all friends here. We’ll put the deeds on the table if that’s your wish. But we’ll have a gentleman’s agreement to buy them back at a nominal sum. No one is here to be ruined. All anyone seeks is a little sport.’

  Will unbent slightly. ‘I don’t mind games of skill,’ he said stiffly. ‘Games of skill between gentlemen for a nominal sum.’

  ‘Slow coach!’ I said easily. ‘Captain, get me a sheet of your paper and I’ll write out the deeds of my land fair. We’ll put them on the table with Lord Perry’s farm and they can be the stake.’

  ‘I’ll put my hundred guineas in,’ Will said, warming to the game.

  ‘Dammit so will I!’ said Bob Redfern as if he had suddenly decided. ‘I could do with a little place in the country!’

  Will checked at once. ‘The properties to be re-sold at once to their rightful owners,’ he said.

  Bob Redfern smiled. ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘For a nominal sum. This is but a jest. It adds zest.’

  ‘For God’s sake, Will, we’re in polite society now,’ I hissed at him. ‘Don’t count the change so!’

  Will nodded abashed, and watched as I wrote out a brief description with a line-drawing of what was, in fact, Robert Gower’s farm. I chose it on purpose. It looked real. My da always used to say, when you’re getting a gull, tell him a story as straight as you can. I thought of him as I drew in the river which flowed near the bottom field.

&n
bsp; ‘Pretty place,’ the captain said approvingly.

  ‘A fair stake, for a jest,’ I said.

  Bob Redfern leaned forward and dealt the cards with his swift white hands. I dropped my eyelashes and watched him like a hawk.

  I was not a card-sharper, I was a horse-trainer, a petty thief, a poacher. I could call up a show or ride a horse for money. I could take bets, make up a book, drug a bad horse into steadiness, or ride a wild pony into the ground for a quick sale. Here, in this London club, with a man’s hat pushed back on my forehead, sprawled in my chair like a flushed youth, I was in the grip of men who cheated at cards for a living, and for a handsome living. I was the pigeon here. The little skills I had learned at Da’s knee would not preserve me from a thorough plucking if I stayed too long. Whatever I was going to do I had best do quick.

  News of the bet had spread to other parts of the room and several gentlemen had quit their own games to come and watch ours. I didn’t know whether any of them would signal to Bob or Jolyon what cards we held. I didn’t dare wait to find out. There was no time, and I did not have enough skill. For the first time in my life I wished with all my heart that my da was at my side. He was no artist, but he could spot a cheat. And I did not know if they would use the same signals with others watching.

  They did. The first tricks I saw them do it. They moved like gentlemen, that was what made it alluring. When you saw Da pinch his ear or scratch his shoulder it looked foolish, as if he had nits. But when Captain Thomas brushed his collar with the tips of his fingers he looked merely debonair. I risked a quick glance at Will, he was scowling over his cards. He would know they were cheating but he would not have a clue how it was done. I could not hope that he would have wits quick enough to follow me. He had not had the training, he was no easy liar, no quick cheat. He did not know how to do it. I should have to do it alone. I should have to do it quickly. I should have to do it now.

  38

  They were going for me, for the convincingly pretty little farm I had drawn for them. All good card-sharping is a war of imagination in which the card-sharp convinces the pigeons of two things at once: that he is honest, and that they are skilled. I watched them under my eyelashes and saw that they thought Will too staunch, too unwilling, possibly too poor for their skills. But I was a flash young fool. They looked from the little roughdrawn map to my open eager face and licked their lips like hungry men before sweet pudding.