‘So I did,’ Lady Jenna replied. ‘It is all arranged. The card tables should be ready and awaiting us in the drawing room the moment you gentlemen are ready.’
‘Excellent,’ Mr Oswald said. ‘I hope the rest of you are prepared to lose your fortunes.’
‘I doubt we shall play so deep as that,’ Lady Jenna said firmly. ‘You will join us, will you not, Mr Gilvry? We will need an even number and Mrs Preston does like to play.’
The older lady beamed. ‘How kind of you to remember, Jenna.’
Both ladies were awaiting his answer. Did he actually have a choice? ‘I shall be delighted.’
They repaired at once to the drawing room, the gentlemen apparently more than happy to give up their port for a chance to gamble.
Two card tables had been set up in the drawing room, and it was agreed that he would partner Mrs Preston against Mr Oswald and Mr McBane in a game of piquet, while Lady Jenna played a hand of whist with Mr Murray.
A chance for her to get to know the man better. Cards would reveal the man’s intelligence, or at least his ability to count.
Mrs Preston proved to be quite a good player, even though she played by instinct rather than calculation, and Niall easily made up for her occasional error with his skill in keeping track of the cards.
‘This is dullness itself,’ Mr Oswald said. ‘A shilling a point? Let us raise it to a guinea.’
No one objected. The widow’s eyes lit up as she eyed her winnings and calculated how much more they could be.
‘A guinea it is,’ McBane said casually and dealt the hand.
‘Are you in, Gilvry?’ Oswald asked.
Niall nodded. He would have to ensure luck continued to run their way. He certainly could not afford to lose the way these men could. He picked up his hand and glanced at his cards. Useless. He had to hope his partner had better than this or he would quickly find himself on Dun Street.
* * *
During the next hand, while Mrs Preston dithered over which card to lay, McBane leaned back in his chair. ‘I understand you led an exciting youth, Mr Gilvry.’
Niall frowned at him. ‘No more exciting than anyone else, I believe.’
‘I understood your family to be engaged in the trade. I assumed you were part of it?’
‘A free trader?’ Murray said from the next table, his expression speculative. ‘I wouldn’t mind a few tuns of brandy.’
Lady Jenna’s eyes widened in astonishment.
‘I have nothing to do with smuggling brandy,’ he said firmly.
‘I thought smuggling was why your family set such great store on the climbing of cliffs,’ McBane said blandly.
Niall felt his mouth dry as he heard Lady Jenna’s indrawn gasp. He didn’t look at her, but he knew she must have told McBane about their conversation. Their private conversation. He repressed a feeling of betrayal. There was no sense in denying it, despite the superior expression on McBane’s face. ‘We gathered eggs for food.’
‘Very industrious,’ Oswald said matter-of-factly.
Niall allowed himself a glance in Lady Jenna’s direction. Her cheeks bloomed roses and she was focusing on her cards. Deliberately not looking at him. What else had she told McBane? He waved off the offer of burgundy from the footman. ‘Your play, McBane.’
McBane put down a card. ‘I understood it was some sort of contest.’
This time Niall managed to catch Lady Jenna’s eye and she gave a little wince. An apology of sorts, he supposed. He stared at his cards without looking at them. ‘Once a year, when I was growing up, my brothers and I competed to see who could gather the most gulls’ eggs in a single day. My grandfather offered a prize.’
‘And this time, the prize is a bride,’ McBane said softly.
What the devil? Did McBane see him as a rival? He almost laughed out loud. What she needed was far beyond his means. Indeed, it was his duty to ensure she found a man who met some very exacting criteria.
‘Mr Gilvry isn’t competing,’ Lady Jenna said. ‘I mean, we are not having a contest.’
Mr Oswald picked up his glass and observed Niall over the rim. ‘Were you planning on competing?’
Niall looked back at him steadily. ‘There is no contest.’
‘It sounds like a grand idea,’ Mr Murray said. ‘First one back with the most eggs in the morning wins the lady.’
‘That wasn’t it,’ Niall began, then stopped at the triumphant gleam in Mr McBane’s eye. The man was playing some sort of cat-and-mouse game. And he wasn’t going to fall for it.
He looked at his cards, his face blank. He would be lucky if he held his own with this hand, provided Mrs Preston held the cards he thought she did, and played them well.
‘What was the contest?’ Mr Oswald asked idly, putting down a queen of hearts.
‘One egg,’ Lady Jenna said.
‘The first one to bring back one egg?’ Mr Murray sounded puzzled.
‘The one whom I thought showed the most initiative in obtaining it would win,’ she answered.
The furrowed brow Mr Murray sported said he was all at sea.
‘Why?’ Mr Oswald.
‘It was a foolish notion,’ Lady Jenna said, dropping her gaze to her cards. ‘I had some idea that such a quest might...distinguish one from another since you are all such worthy and eligible gentlemen.’
‘Oh, a quest,’ Mr Murray said. He looked pleased with the idea. ‘Like a knight in shining armour and a maiden in distress.’
One thing was clear—Murray, for all his good looks, was not of the highest intellect. So perhaps there was some benefit to this conversation. He just wished she hadn’t discussed it with McBane. He looked at the widower, whose expression had settled into that of the mildest interest. Was that his purpose in this? To show Murray up as a dolt?
‘Mr Gilvry refuses to countenance any such contest,’ Jenna said as if to put an end to the matter.
‘Really?’ said Mr Oswald. ‘I wonder why?’
What the hell did he mean by that? ‘It is too dangerous,’ Niall said. ‘I advised Lady Jenna to spend time with each of you and then make up her mind.’ Damn it all, now he was in the position of matchmaker.
‘And will you be advising Lady Jenna on her choice?’ Mr Oswald asked.
‘No,’ Niall said. ‘My opinion is not relevant. Lord Carrick has deemed you all eligible. My only duty is to watch over Lady Jenna’s safety in his absence.’
‘And it is for Lady Jenna to choose,’ McBane said. He smiled at his competitors. ‘May the best man win.’
‘He will,’ Murray said, picking up his cards.
Damn it all. It seemed these men had picked up the gauntlet. He kept his face expressionless and focused all his attention on the cards. For once Mrs Preston played exceedingly well and they split the pot between them. McBane looked far from pleased and it was with difficulty that Niall resisted the temptation to show his triumph.
He rose from the table. ‘If you will excuse me, gentlemen, ladies, I have an early start in the morning.’
‘Ah, yes, your other duties. Secretary, isn’t it?’ McBane purred.
‘Under-secretary,’ Niall said. ‘I bid you goodnight.’ He strode from the room, knowing full well that McBane was itching for a chance to win his money back. Niall also knew that if he stayed, with Mrs Preston as a partner, it was almost guaranteed to happen. He’d be a fool to continue to play with men who dropped thousands in a night without blinking. And he wasn’t a fool. Not about cards.
He’d been a fool to trust Lady Jenna to keep their conversation private.
He strode down the corridor, congratulating himself on having done his duty, and come out with some coin in his pocket. Mrs Preston would now have to do her duty and serve as chaperon for the rest of the evening.
The patter of hurried footsteps from behind had him turning around.
Lady Jenna, running after him.
His gut clenched and he strode back to meet her. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘The
contest,’ she said. ‘I am sorry. I did not expect—’
‘Why on earth did you tell McBane?’
‘I didn’t. He overheard us. I believe I have nipped the idea in the bud.’
He thought about the other men’s reactions. ‘Don’t be surprised if you get a basket of eggs tomorrow from Murray.’
‘Oh, do you think so?’ She grimaced. ‘I’ll speak to him.’
‘It would probably be best.’
They stood there staring at each other, the air warming and thickening despite the chill in the corridor. He wanted her. Drunk or sober, every time he was near her, he had the same desire: to take her to his bed and learn all of her secrets. If it had only been lust it wouldn’t bother him so much. He had this feeling that he wanted to protect her from these men, and from herself. Which was why he had agreed to play cards when he should have refused. And had apparently earned McBane’s enmity for winning.
Should he warn her against the man? Was it really his place? And could he really offer an unbiased opinion? Mentally he shook his head at himself. Clearly, he could not. ‘Goodnight, Lady Jenna.’
He turned and strode away before he did something he would really regret. Like carrying her off to his room and ravishing her so that none of them could have her and she had to marry him.
Filled with self-disgust, he took himself to bed. Unfortunately, his body thought it was such a good idea that it plagued him with erotic dreams all night.
* * *
The storm blew itself out by morning. Which likely meant Lady Jenna would expect to go beyond the castle walls with her suitors trailing along. He’d looked into what might strike their fancy. As Mrs Preston had said, there were a couple of ruined castles nearby, some old standing stones. Or there was a river with good fishing. Or sailing, on the loch or the sea.
But first he paid a visit to Mr McDougall and found the secretary tut-tutting to himself.
‘What is wrong?’ Niall asked.
‘This new land steward is an idiot,’ McDougall muttered, not looking up. ‘He either forgets to write down who paid, or he forgets to write down what they paid.’
Niall kept his body relaxed and his face mildly enquiring. ‘Tearny used to be the land steward, did he not? Here and at Dunross.’
‘Aye. And for all his faults, he never made these sort of mistakes.’
‘Faults?’
‘Aye. Disappearing for days on end. I brought it to the Carrick’s attention, but he shrugged it off.’
‘Perhaps he was engaged in Dunross business?’
‘Perhaps,’ McDougall said. He looked up. ‘’Twas a bad business. Your brother was lucky there were witnesses to the death or he might have found himself on the end of a rope.’
‘Did Tearny have a family?’
‘Oh, aye. A prolific man, our Mr Tearny.’
‘I don’t suppose you know where his widow lives? We heard she had returned to Ireland.’
‘She did for a while, after his death, but she’s back now, her and her parcel of brats.’
‘Do you happen to know where she lives? Ian wants to offer her some aid since he feels responsible for her husband’s death.’ Perhaps his wife could say why her husband had been so set on causing Ian harm. And why Carrick had paid her husband so much money.
‘Along the road, in the opposite direction to town.’
‘Thanks.’ The moment he had some free time he would talk to Mrs Tearny, but right now he had to organise Lady Jenna and her suitors.
* * *
Jenna stared from the smug Mr Oswald to the outraged Mr McBane and then back to the blue velvet-covered box in her hand containing a white conical-shaped egg. ‘You are telling me that you agreed among you on this contest as a way of winning my hand?’
Both men nodded.
‘Without my agreement?’
‘You seemed pretty set on it yesterday, according to McBane here,’ Oswald said. ‘Sorry to get the jump on you, old chap.’
McBane glared at him. ‘He cheated.’
‘No more than you,’ Oswald said with a small smile as he picked at a small piece of lint on his coat sleeve. ‘Your man was grumbling about arising at five to go into town. When my man told me, I guessed why, so I had my man leave immediately.’
‘And bought every damned egg to be had.’
‘Bought them?’ Jenna said.
‘Naturally,’ Oswald replied. ‘You didn’t expect me to go clambering up cliffs, surely?’
Jenna felt betrayed as well as foolish. ‘And that was also your plan, Mr McBane?’
‘Not quite. I planned to be first to bring you the one egg you wanted, my lady. And let the devil take the hindmost.’
She turned on Mr Oswald. ‘What happened to the other eggs? The rest of those you bought?’
‘I told my man to get rid of them, where McBane wouldn’t find them.’
‘He threw them away?’
Oswald shrugged.
Jenna smiled. ‘You are to be congratulated. Your participation has given me great insight into your character, Mr Oswald.’
‘So I win.’
He smiled his sly smile and Jenna wanted to hit him. ‘You win your departure, sir. Any man who would deliberately destroy food is not a man I would wish to marry.’
McBane grinned. ‘Sorry, old fellow. I forgot to mention the part about feeding the poor with what was left over.’
Oswald shot him a glare. ‘I demand another chance. I was not given full information.’
Jenna got up and pulled the bell.
When she returned to her seat, she narrowed her eyes at McBane. ‘You heard a lot more of my conversation than you revealed previously.’
‘These stone walls carry sound in the strangest way.’
‘I suppose it didn’t occur to you not to listen to a private conversation?’
His ears turned red. As they should. ‘Fair means or foul, Lady Jenna, I intend to win you.’
‘And what of Mr Murray?’
‘Off climbing the cliffs, I assume. Breaking his fool neck.’
‘At least he is a sportsman,’ she said. ‘And you can’t win, since you did not bring me an egg, Mr McBane. But don’t bother rushing out to find one, because you still wouldn’t win. I am looking for a man who will share my life, not go behind my back.’
‘Oh, my dear girl,’ Mrs Preston said from the other side of the hearth from where she had been watching the proceedings open-mouthed. ‘Perhaps you should give this some thought.’
A footman arrived to see what was wanted. ‘These gentlemen are leaving. Please inform Mr Gilvry to make the necessary arrangements.’
‘Lady Jenna, don’t be hasty,’ McBane said smoothly. ‘I was simply trying to give you want you wanted.’
‘I think it is clear that I do not want either of you.’
Was she mistaken, or did Mr Oswald look relieved? It was hard to tell because he caught his expression when he realised she was looking at him and bowed deeply. ‘May I say what a pleasure it has been, Lady Jenna. Should you ever change your mind...’
She gave him a hard smile. ‘Don’t hold your breath, Mr Oswald.’
McBane made a perfunctory bow and both men left.
She had never felt so relieved in her life. But now all she could think of was Mr Murray somewhere on the cliffs. Mr Gilvry was right. She did not want the guilt of any accident that might befall him.
After all, he was also her only remaining suitor.
She was shocked by her feeling of dismay.
But by dismissing the other two, she had in effect made her choice. All that was left was to tell him.
Chapter Seven
Niall arrived a few minutes later, looking concerned. ‘You sent for me, Lady Jenna?’
‘Oh, Mr Gilvry,’ Mrs Preston said, dabbing theatrically at her eyes. ‘Perhaps you can remonstrate with Lady Jenna. Lord Carrick is going to be so displeased. Nothing I can say will move her.’
‘Can you wonder at it, ma’am?’ Jenna said, trying t
o hold her temper in check.
‘I spoke with McBane,’ Mr Gilvry said. ‘He explained what happened. He seemed quite irritated.’
‘Whereas I imagine Mr Oswald is jumping for joy. I cannot deny I was completely taken in by the pair of them.’
‘Mr McBane has such charming manners,’ Mrs Preston wailed. ‘And Mr Oswald. So personable and nice in his dress. Are you sure you want to send them away so soon?’
Mr Gilvry glanced around. ‘Where is Murray?’
‘I see McBane didn’t tell you everything,’ Jenna said, her jaw feeling tight. ‘Mr Murray is off somewhere, climbing the cliffs.’
‘Oh,’ he said.
‘Oh? Is that the best you can do?’
His brows drew down in a straight line. ‘Do we have any idea where he went?’
She shook her head.
He heaved a sigh. ‘I will have a word with his valet.’
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘It won’t be necessary.’
‘Oh, I think it is. If anything happens to him, it will be my fault.’ She strode past him and out of the door before Mrs Preston could add her objections to his.
‘It would never have happened if I hadn’t mentioned the contest to you,’ Mr Gilvry said, easily catching her up.
‘True,’ she said. ‘But then I might have made a terrible mistake. I liked Mr McBane. I was completely taken in.’
Mr Gilvry absorbed that information in silence.
She stopped and whirled around to face him. ‘Well? Don’t you have something to say? Something like I told you so?’
His expression held regret. ‘No. There is nothing I can say at this moment that would make any sense. Come on, we need to hurry if we are going to find your Mr Murray before he breaks his neck.’ He took the lead.
Her Mr Murray. Bridegroom by default. Not what she had expected when she started down this path. But having had him risk his life to win her, there was no way on earth she could turn him down if he should make her an offer.
Her chest felt tight, as if a weight had landed there, making it hard to breathe.
When she should be pleased the matter had been decided.
* * *
They discovered Mr Murray’s valet in the kitchen polishing an already shiny pair of Hessians and drinking tea with Cook. Nobody raised an eyebrow at Mr Gilvry’s entrance, but when they realised she was right behind him, there was a great deal of bobbing of heads and scurrying around.
Ann Lethbridge Page 10
