Princess Charming

by Nicole Jordan

  She was weeping by now. Those disconsolate tears were very real, Maura realized.

  Unexpectedly, she felt a strong measure of sympathy for the woman who had been almost her adversary for more than a decade. Priscilla was Deering’s victim, too. And she seemed genuinely remorseful now.

  Moving away, Maura sank down in a nearby chair. She hadn’t thought Deering could be any more repulsive, but this latest revelation was utterly appalling. First he had brought about the disgrace and death of an innocent man, then forced the man’s widow to steal and whore for him.

  Maura’s hands curled into fists as a wealth of dark emotion rose inside her along with the echo of old grief. The memory of her father dying in shame made her sick and furious all over again, as did her own guilt for being unable to save him.

  “I do understand, Priscilla,” she whispered, her voice holding anguish. Clearing her throat then, Maura vowed to keep a tight rein on her emotions and began again. “Blackmail is Deering’s weapon of choice. He did the same thing with Papa. He said he would withdraw his accusations of cheating if Papa would agree to sell Emperor to him.”

  “I know,” Priscilla sniffled.

  Her response made Maura’s heart twist. “Deering actually admitted that Papa was innocent?”

  Priscilla raised her head, showing eyes that were red and swollen. “Not in so many words, but he implied it.”

  “But you sometimes act as if you believed his lies. As if Papa were guilty.”

  Arresting her sobs, Pris swallowed. “Of course I know Deering lied. Noah was innocent all along.”

  Maura returned her stepmother’s gaze steadily. The acknowledgment coming after all this time was welcome. Yet it was still hard for her to believe in Pris’s complete conversion. “How can I believe your change of heart, Priscilla? You wed my father for his fortune.”

  “I don’t deny that,” she said quietly. “I was poor, and yes, I married Noah for monetary reasons. But I came to love him, Maura. He was kind and generous and he did not deserve the end he received.” She took a shuddering breath. “I wronged him, and I wronged you too, Maura, from the very first. I was jealous of the bond you had with him … of the advantages you had over my daughters. You were so beautiful and poised and stood to inherit your father’s estate. That is no excuse for the cold way I treated you, I know. And truly, I regret being in league with Deering against you, Maura. If you could bring yourself to forgive me … I should like to try and begin anew.”

  Maura wasn’t certain she could be entirely so forgiving, but she did want to be on better terms with Priscilla. “Very well, we can try.”

  “I sincerely want to make it up to you, Maura.”

  She hesitated before making her suggestion. “If so, then you will help me clear Papa’s name.”

  Wiping away her tears, Priscilla grimaced. “I don’t know if that is even possible. You’ve made a mortal enemy of Deering.”

  Maura’s gaze hardened. “On the contrary, he made a mortal enemy of me two years ago when he destroyed my father.”

  “He is still a devious force to be reckoned with … and I still fear what he could do to my daughters.” She shuddered. “I can’t bear to think of him anywhere near them.”

  “I think you needn’t worry about Hannah and Lucy any longer. Lord Beaufort and his family will see that they are safe from Deering and that their futures are secure.”

  After a long moment, Priscilla released a shaky sigh. “What would you have me do?”

  “If you would be willing to make his dastardly scheming public, we could sue him in a court of law.”

  She look dismayed. “Who would believe me? No one would take my word over his. And my shame would come out. It could ruin me, Maura. I haven’t your noble connections to champion me. There must be another way.”

  Although reluctant, Maura had to agree. Priscilla’s testimony against a nobleman of Deering’s stature would not carry substantial weight. They would have to find another way to bring him down—which meant that Ash’s plan to expose the viscount’s perfidious machinations had to succeed.

  Just then, a rap sounded on the parlor’s open door. When Ash entered, Priscilla looked flustered at his presence, no doubt realizing that her tawdry tale would come out. After a pleading look at Maura, she curtsied awkwardly to the marquis and hurried from the room.

  “Well?” Ash asked.

  Maura shook her head as she rose to her feet. “It is even worse than we feared. Deering is a villain of the first order.” Her hands fisted again as she quickly explained how her stepmother had been blackmailed.

  “This is no longer about only restoring my father’s honor,” Maura said urgently. “We have to render Deering powerless to hurt anyone else.”

  Ash’s eyes reflected sympathy, but there was real anger in the set of his jaw and in his tone. “Have no fear, love. Deering’s predilection for preying on the weak will end tomorrow night.”

  He gave her a swift kiss and took her arm. “Come, we need to return to the drawing room. Supper has been served.”

  He made it sound so simple, Maura thought as she accompanied Ash from the parlor. But she was willing to trust him when he declared that they would prevail.

  The buffet table was laden with tempting fare, and much of the company was already gorging on rich lobster patties and delicate meringues. Maura and Ash filled their plates and carried them to an empty table, where he seated her. While Ash was occupied with having a footman pour glasses of wine, Maura’s stepsisters passed by her chair and halted long enough to speak to her.

  “This is so famous, Maura,” Lucy exclaimed, her eyes shining. “We cannot thank you enough—”

  “Yes,” Hannah interrupted reverently. “We have you to thank for our good fortune, dearest Maura. No fewer than five gentlemen have asked to call on us tomorrow.”

  “And several of them have been fighting over the privilege of taking supper with us now,” Lucy added. “Mama is to chaperone us, of course. Look, she is waving to us now. We had best hurry, Hannah.”

  Maura followed Lucy’s gaze to see Priscilla beckoning them.

  Before Hannah complied, however, she leaned down and whispered to Maura. “I keep pinching myself to see if I am dreaming. We have already thanked Lady Skye and Lady Katharine profusely. But please, will you convey our thanks to Lord Beaufort, Maura? I can see why he won your hand and heart.”

  Both girls quickly kissed her cheek, then hastened to join their mother and their new beaux.

  Maura sat frozen in place, though, the echo of Hannah’s innocent observation reverberating in her ears.

  Surely it wasn’t possible.

  Her gaze lifted to seek out Ash’s tall, powerful form. The roaring in her ears grew louder as the truth sank in. Ash had indeed won her heart. Against her will, against all her better judgment, she had fallen in love with him.

  Jolted by the realization, Maura shook her head weakly. Ash had seduced her heart without even trying, luring her into his web of enchantment over the past week, surmounting all her defenses when she had been especially vulnerable.

  Her most powerful dream was that she would find love and family and an end to loneliness, and he had shown her explicitly what it meant to be part of a passionate, loving family. She couldn’t help loving the Wilde cousins, Ash most of all.

  Yet she had no earthly idea what she would do about her shocking acknowledgment. Ash didn’t love her. He was merely playing at the game of love, exploring the theory that they could be legendary lovers. As for winning her hand, their betrothal was only a charade, merely a means of defeating a common enemy.

  Maura shook her head again, but when Ash returned with their wine and took his place beside her, she realized that any attempt at denial was futile.

  It was far too late to protect her heart, for she had foolishly gone and fallen in love with her prince, just as Cinderella had done in the timeless fairy tale.

  Somehow Maura managed to hide her newly-realized feelings of love from A
sh for the rest of the evening and during the next day. Too much was at stake for either of them to be distracted by the uncertainty of their future together—although she promised herself that as soon as the issue of her father’s vindication was settled, she would squarely face the matter of her feckless heart.

  The following night, Lord Jack escorted her to Sutter’s gaming establishment. Maura had refused to be left behind, and Ash permitted her participation, saying that she needed the satisfaction of seeing her longtime nemesis exposed. For propriety’s sake, however, she went incognito, wearing a hooded domino and mask as genteel ladies often did when they wished to conceal their identities.

  Sutter’s, Maura realized from the moment they were admitted, was a prosperous club, the decor sumptuous but surprisingly tasteful. There were several large rooms crowded with elegantly dressed gamesters and patrons of both sexes being served refreshments by attentive waiters. She noted a roulette wheel, as well as various card games in progress—some, such as faro, overseen by professional dealers.

  Ash was already there, since he had arrived early in order to put his plan in motion. Maura’s heart leapt when she spied him sitting at the green baize card table across from Viscount Deering.

  It seemed that the game had already begun.

  When she took a step closer, Jack firmly grasped her arm and guided her toward the far wall.

  “You agreed to observe from a distance, remember?” he reminded Maura. “We don’t want Deering to know you were complicit in his downfall, and if I allowed him to see you, Ash would have my head.”

  Nodding reluctantly, she let Jack seat her so that she could watch the game from well back in the crowd. Shortly, he placed a glass of Madeira in her hand, yet Maura couldn’t drink with the knot of anxiety tightening her stomach. Even from a distance she could see that Deering’s expression was one of smug, supercilious arrogance. He clearly expected to win—and the next few hours would prove whether or not his confidence was justified.

  Ash completely understood Maura’s compulsion to be present at the gaming club. He would have felt the same urgency defending his own parents, or any other member of his family, for that matter.

  He also understood the imperative for him to succeed. In playing the viscount, not only was he risking the loss of Maura’s prize stallion, he was responsible for exonerating her beloved father. A heavy onus indeed.

  Vingt-un was partly a game of skill and partly of luck. After being dealt two cards each, the players attempted to reach a combination closest to twenty-one points without going over that number, with court cards counting as ten points, face cards as their numerical value, and aces as either one or eleven points. The deal changed between players, depending on who won the last hand, and the dealer had the advantage of odds.

  Upon arriving, Ash had met with the club owner, George Sutter, to insure the game wouldn’t be rigged ahead of time by any other parties. Jack had vouched for Sutter’s honesty, but Ash wanted the two new decks of playing cards examined by a reliable witness and noted to be free of disfigurements of any kind. He hoped to catch Deering at marking cards during the evening, since a repetition of the viscount’s game with Noah Collyer two years earlier would be highly suspect. There was also the possibility that Deering would find a way to accuse Ash himself of cheating, just as he’d done with Collyer.

  Ash knew he would have to keep his wits sharp if he hoped to expose Deering for what he was: An unscrupulous bastard who preyed on the vulnerable. But for Maura’s sake, he was prepared to do whatever it took. One way or the other, he intended to flush the viscount out.

  The game began innocently enough. The cards remained clean at first, Ash was convinced. But as the night wore on, faint scratches started appearing in the lower left corners of certain cards, which led him to conclude that using a sleight of hand, Deering was scoring the backs of the court cards with his signet ring.

  It was the final straw for Ash. He had no qualms about employing similar unprincipled means, not necessarily to win the game, but to rile and unsettle Deering as much as possible.

  The next time Ash had the deal, he marked several face cards with the same scratch, so that eventually Deering exceeded his point limit when he’d obviously expected a much different result.

  When Deering eyed him suspiciously, Ash asked in an innocent tone, “Is something amiss?”

  “No, nothing,” the nobleman replied, scowling faintly, although he must have known he’d been tricked into playing the wrong card.

  Ash flashed a slow, taunting smile to drive home his victory, which earned him a more perceptible scowl.

  It was perhaps a quarter hour later when Ash managed to identify the ace of hearts—the same card that Deering had once used to accuse Collyer—and conceal it beneath his coat sleeve before giving over the deal. Then, with his own sleight of hand, Ash flicked the ace beneath the table to land at his opponent’s feet.

  By then, several curious players had gathered around the noblemen to watch their contest, including one of the club’s paid dealers. Thus, Ash had an impartial audience when a moment later, he made a deliberate show of spotting the fallen card beside Deering’s evening shoe. After leaning to one side of the table and peering down, Ash froze as if unable to believe what he was seeing.

  Frowning, he pointed to the stray card to draw the attention of everyone around them. “You seem to have misplaced part of the deck, Deering,” he commented as he bent down to retrieve the card.

  Upon turning it faceup on the baize surface, Ash let his jaw harden. “How very convenient that you should have a spare ace lying around,” he drawled.

  Deering stared at the card as if he’d seen a ghost.

  “How did that just happen to fall there within your reach?” Ash pressed.

  “I have no earthly idea how it came to be there on the floor,” the viscount declared, his expression indignant.

  “No? Do you deny that you dropped it there so you could play it later when you most needed it?”

  Deering lifted his gaze to skewer Ash with an icy look. “Of course I deny I dropped it.”

  Ash raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Forgive me if I fail to believe you. You have made a habit of employing the ace of hearts to your own ends before this. I recall this same card was used to accuse Mr. Noah Collyer of fixing your game two years ago.”

  The viscount’s cold glare intensified. “What are you saying, Beaufort?”

  “That you have been cheating outright since the beginning of our game tonight.”

  There were numerous gasps from the spectators standing around the table.

  “How dare you,” the viscount ground out, his defensiveness turning to anger.

  “How dare I?” Ash countered in a cool voice. “I could ask the same of you, Deering. I have observed you closely all evening. You have been scoring the backs of particular cards this entire time.”

  He turned over the ace of hearts to display the back, where the plain red surface was visibly marred by a scratch in the lower left corner. “Our proprietor will vouch that both decks were free of defects before the game began, so this identifying mark had to have been made during our play. There are identical scratches on other court cards as well.”

  At first Deering made no reply, but his livid complexion suggested that he was seething. “You could just as easily have been the one to score the cards,” he finally retorted. “Indeed, I suspect you are the guilty party, since you are the one who pointed out the marks.”

  A valid argument, Ash agreed silently before attempting to direct the blame back where it belonged. “That doesn’t explain the ace lying at your feet. Did you actually think to get away again with the same fraudulent scheme you used against Collyer?”

  His face contorted with fury, Deering uttered a curse that was audible throughout the entire room. A hush had fallen, as if a blanket had been lowered over the crowd to snuff out all frivolity and good spirits. The tension in the club was now palpable.

  Ash smiled with
out humor. “Perhaps I am mistaken. I would be willing to retract my charge now if you admit that you were inaccurate when you accused Collyer two years ago.”

  “Collyer? What the devil do you care about him?”

  “A good man’s reputation suffered mightily that night. You could easily clear up matters by explaining the truth of what happened. Even if it comes posthumously for Collyer, his family will be relieved to have his name exonerated.”

  “What of my reputation? You are impugning my good name, sir!”

  By now Deering was almost choleric, yet apparently the allegation of cheating was not enough to compel him to change his account of the game with Maura’s father.

  Frustrated by his failure, Ash continued pressing. “The similarities between the games are too obvious to believe anything other than duplicity.”

  His charge had the desired effect, for Deering practically spat out his reply. “You leave me no choice but to defend my honor. You will give me satisfaction, Beaufort.”

  Ash nodded, gratified that he had goaded Deering into issuing the challenge, since it gave him greater leverage over the viscount. “I am happy to oblige,” he responded.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ash saw Maura surge to her feet and take a step toward their table, only to be prevented from approaching by his brother, Jack.

  Shifting his gaze from her, Ash glanced around at the crowd. “Pray, give us privacy,” he ordered with a sharpness that sent the observers backing away.

  “Shall we settle the matter with pistols or swords?” he asked Deering then.

  “Pistols,” Deering snapped. “You should name your seconds so they may arrange the particulars.”

  “I prefer to decide all the particulars tonight,” Ash countered. “Of course we will have our seconds present to watch the duel to insure that honor is satisfied, but I see no reason to delay our meeting. After first light tomorrow should suffice, say half past six … unless you dislike rising at such an early hour. As for place, the field below Granger Hill is a prime location.”