“Women are fickle,” Oscar said. “Look at Emily for that to be justified. She was lovesick over Edward and now to look at her a person could never tell.”
James did indeed look at Emily. She was in the midst of some conversation with the Earl of Yarditon’s wife. The woman was laughing, and James had forgotten how she looked when she laughed. For a moment, she looked just like she did when they were still young, before the war. The moment passed when Emily saw James watching her. The instant their eyes met, Emily’s laughter fled, and she quickly turned away.
“Yes,” James whispered. “Look at her now.” He stood up and dusted himself off as if he were dirtied somehow. “I am going to retire to my study for a bit. I feel myself in need of a drink.”
“And a good cigar?” The Spanish accent made James wince before he turned around to see Mr Duarte standing nearby. “May I join you for that drink? I find the noise of the crowd to be jarring.”
Oscar nodded. “We should all sneak away for a drink,” Oscar said as he invited himself along as well. James noted that Oscar had not mentioned accompanying him until Mr Duarte had asked to come along.
“We are merry the more of us there are,” James said with a smile. “Let us go before the ladies wrangle us into dancing or some other foul thing.”
***
James’ study was originally the study of the old Duke. He sank down into the leather seat behind the desk and waved for his companions to take seats on the sofa and chairs. “Cigars and brandy, gentlemen?” James asked as he put on the mask of a good host.
Mr Duarte replied with a bright smile. “I would be honoured. It has been some time since I had a decent cigar.”
“Do they not make good ones in Spain?” James asked as he fetched out some cigars. Oscar helped by pouring the brandy at James’ gesture.
Mr Duarte took the cigar that James offered him and said, “They make excellent cigars in Spain, but I have been in England for the past few months.”
Oscar chuckled. James did not find the Spaniard as amusing, but he forced a smile on his face as he took the glass that Oscar handed him. “Clever,” James said. He raised his glass. “To new friends.”
“Here, here,” Oscar said happily as he handed Mr Duarte a glass then raised his own to join James in the toast.
Mr Duarte did not raise his glass. James asked, “Do you not appreciate the toast?”
“Toasts are fine. The English like toasting things, absurd things. Friendship is a concept for children,” Mr Duarte said with a shrug of his shoulders under his finely sewn coat. “Hold few in your confidence, and if you are betrayed, then you know who did the betraying. It simplifies things.”
James chuckled. “You must be quite lonely.”
“Not at all,” Mr Duarte assured him. “I make plenty of acquaintances in my travels.”
James pondered the man. “Where did you get the scar on your face?”
Oscar was watching with interest now. He had leaned forward as if anticipating on learning more about Mr Duarte. The Spaniard ran a fingertip across the scar on his face. “I had a run in with a disagreeable donkey,” Mr Duarte said with a grin.
James thought that perhaps there was some jest in what the man said, but he could not tell what it was. James laughed and nodded. “Why is that you never talk about your past, Mr Duarte? Are you hiding something?”
The man eyed James, and James had the oddest sensation of something familiar, but he could not place it. Mr Duarte waved his hand dismissively. “Do you often dwell on your past, Your Grace?”
“Not often,” James said as he took a sip of his brandy. “But our past can make us who we are, and I think that is where the curiosity comes from.”
Mr Duarte pursed his lips as one hand played with the top of his cane and the other held his glass as yet untouched. “The English are an odd people,” he commented.
When it was plain that the Spaniard did not mean to speak further, James gave up and lit his cigar. He noted that Mr Duarte simply put his cigar in his coat pocket as if to save it. James took it as some strange Spanish peculiarity.
“This wood, what is it?” Mr Duarte said as he motioned to the panelling of the room.
James looked at the panelling and frowned. The wood had been original to the study, but he could not recall what it was. Oscar said, “I think it is birch. Is that not what Edward’s father used to say?”
Mr Duarte looked at Oscar and asked, “Who is this Edward?”
“He was the old Duke’s son and our childhood friend,” Oscar explained. James clenched his one hand so tightly under the desk that he could almost feel his knuckles turning white.
James said, “Edward died in the war, and that is how I inherited the title I currently hold.” James looked at Mr Duarte. The man’s eyes seemed to bore right into James.
Suddenly, Mr Duarte laughed. “Good thing he did then,” Mr Duarte said. The man added quickly, “I hope I did not offend with my joke. He was your friend as you say.”
“Not at all,” James assured the man.
***
“You simply cannot keep doing this,” Emily said to her husband who sat in a stupor at the dining room table. James had only come stumbling in from whatever he had gotten up to the night before.
James waved off Emily’s nagging. “Can you go yell at someone else?”
“No,” Emily said firmly. “By the joys of marriage and your husbandly rights, you get to be the one that I yell at, my dearest.”
James laid his head over onto the table and sighed. “Why not go call on that Spanish mule of yours?”
“For the very last time, James, there is nothing between Mr Duarte and myself. Whatever it is that you see is merely a reflection of yourself.” Emily shook her head at her husband. She came to kneel beside him. Emily put her hands on his arms to plead with the man. “James, you must stop this gambling. You will lose this estate too.”
James scoffed, “I can beat him.”
“Before or after we are in the poorhouse?” Emily asked desperately. “Please stop this. Why is this consuming you so? He is just a man, and you are letting him tear you down.” Emily stood up and shook her head. “No, you are tearing yourself down and just handing the pieces to him.”
James sat up and stared at Emily. “He will not beat me again. Go worry over your flowers or your parties. I do not require the apron strings of a woman to cry out my misery. If you want that, then you should go see Augustus.”
“I would, but he will no longer see me,” Emily said. “James, even you have to see how mad this is?”
James stood up, and Emily guessed that the man had had enough of her talk as he stormed out of the room. Emily sighed and sank down into one of the empty dining room chairs. Pearl came in to clear the table. “What are you fretting about so?”
Emily looked up at the woman. “James is gambling again. He keeps playing that wretched Spanish devil. The man will take all of Edward’s estate.”
“Do you not mean James’ estate?” Pearl asked.
Emily sighed and shook her head. “Yes, only it is still Edward’s to me.”
“I know it is,” Pearl said as she sat down next to Emily. She put her hand on Emily’s arm. “There is little you can do, Emily, if your husband refuses to listen.”
Emily nodded and thought about James. “That is true,” she agreed. “Perhaps I should go beg an audience with the Devil himself.”
“You cannot do that,” Pearl whispered as if scandalised. “Your husband already thinks that you are pining for the man. Would you go and stoke his anger?”
Emily knew that Pearl was right. James seemed more irrational lately. His jealousy was just another symptom of that. James had never been a particularly jealous person where Emily was concerned, but something about the Spaniard had made James feel vulnerable.
“I know how James is,” Emily said. “He has worked himself into a right state, and he will not stop until he has his goal in hand, or he destroys himself trying. I think he
is more likely to destroy us all before he wins against that man.”
Pearl sighed and wrung her hands together. “Will you take one of the boys with you at least?”
“Of course,” Emily said. “I am no great fool, Pearl.”
Pearl assured her, “I never thought you were. I just worry.”
“I will be safe,” Emily said as she stood up. “I shall have to think over exactly how to approach the man. If James refuses to stop playing, then and only then will I go to Mr Duarte and beg he stop this madness.”
Pearl nodded. “That sounds reasonable, but I doubt His Grace will see it quite the same way.”
“Well, we shall just have to keep it to ourselves. I think we can manage that,” Emily said as she smoothed her skirt. “I am going to read and try to take my mind off of all of this. Pray that my husband sees the futility of his ways, Pearl.”
***
Edward sighed across the playing table at James who seemed to be calculating something so fiercely that he was unaware of him or anyone else. “Your Grace,” Edward said to prompt the man to look at him. When James’ eyes came up to meet Edward’s, Edward said, “Do you not have the means?”
“Of course I have means,” James said in an offended tone. “I just do not have the coin on me.”
The others at the game had long since folded out and had wandered away from the table to find drinks. Edward suggested, “We could fold? Perhaps play another time when you have your coins on hand?”
James slammed his hand on the table. “Do you insult me?”
“No, Your Grace,” Edward said as he dipped his head towards the man. “I am merely giving you a way out.”
James sneered, “From a game that you will likely lose.”
“As you wish, Your Grace,” Edward said. “I call then since you have no means to put in any further coin.”
James laid his cards down. Edward saw the man’s hand, and it was as he had expected that James had been hanging on to cards trying to bluff. James had always been a convincing liar, but his desperation shone through the way the man held himself.
James stared at the cards as Edward laid his hand down so that James could see that he was beaten yet again. By this time, the man should realise that if Edward was willing to call that his hand was good enough to beat him, but James’ ego pushed him to continue in a reckless fashion. As Edward gathered up his winnings, James said, “Shall we continue our games tomorrow?”
Edward had to admire the man’s persistence. James had never been one to take no for an answer, and Edward simply nodded with a smile. “At your leave, Your Grace,” Edward said as he inclined his head towards the man.
Oscar hovered nearby, and after James had left with his tattered pride held close to his chest, Edward walked over to Oscar. Oscar’s face lit up at Edward’s attention. Edward had seen that James resented Oscar’s eagerness to be near the mysterious Esteban, and as Oscar grew more comfortable with Edward’s alter-ego, he plied the man gently for information regarding Oscar and James’ time in France during the war.
“I feel your friend may be a persistent man to his own detriment,” Edward said to Oscar as he stopped near the man.
Oscar nodded and sighed. “James has always been driven, sometimes by the very Devil himself.”
“Men in positions of power often have to deal with more stress than the rest of us,” Edward said with a light shrug of his shoulders. “War can do things to men.”
Oscar asked, “Were you in the war?”
Edward did not have to ask what war Oscar was talking about. The campaign in France by England had affected the northern parts of Spain to some extent with people fleeing the violence at times. Edward shook his head. “I saw nothing of Napoleon’s campaign. I only heard of it from those retreating from the battlefields. War in and of itself is a gruesome matter, though.”
“That it is,” Oscar said with a sigh. “I do not like to speak on my time there. It is better forgotten as you have often said of your own past.” Oscar patted his coat pockets almost absentmindedly. “Let us get a drink. I find that I am in need of something to wet my throat.”
Edward smiled and assented. “Let us venture forth then,” he said as he waved his hand towards the exit.
Oscar needed no further urging. Edward let the large man lead the way, and he followed behind at a more sedate pace. Oscar called over his shoulder, “I know a little place that is just perfect.”
“Delightful,” Edward called back to the man. Oscar was a hard man to crack, sober or in James’ presence. Perhaps Edward would have more luck if the man were to indulge in drink.
The place Oscar led Edward to was little more than a small building that looked to Edward to be all but abandoned. However, Edward could hear the drone of music and voices coming from within. Oscar burst through the doors and yelled out a greeting to the patrons who greeted him just as eagerly. “Oscar! You old fool, where have you been?”
“Minding the law,” Oscar answered with a chuckle. “This is my dear friend Mr Esteban Duarte, the famous Spanish card player that you probably have heard of.”
A lady who was propped up on a seated gentleman’s shoulders said, “Oh yes, I heard the Earl speaking of him. Don’t you remember, Robert?”
Robert, the seated gentleman, nodded but did not seem that interested. Oscar jerked his head towards a back corner where it was relatively quiet. “Bring us a bottle,” Oscar called to the barkeep.
“A bottle of what?” the man asked with amusement.
Oscar replied, “Anything that suits you, other than the oils you clean with.”
Edward smiled and followed Oscar towards the table. The lights just reached the corner making it a secluded spot that Edward could well imagine was used for nefarious deeds. Oscar sat down heavily and sighed. The barkeep was swiftly over to them with a bottle of brandy, which Oscar paid for without asking the price.
As soon as the barkeep was gone, Edward asked, “Come here often then?”
“Quite often when I am in London, which is not as often as it used to be,” Oscar said as he pried the bottle open. Oscar picked up the glasses the barkeep had brought and inspected them before he poured the brandy. “Here you go.” Oscar placed a glass in front of Edward.
Edward was a bit thirsty and accepted the drink with a nod of his head. “The Duke and yourself served together in the war?”
“Yes,” Oscar said before he took a deep drink from his brandy.
Edward sipped his drink then commented, “Odd for a Duke to go to war, is it not?”
Oscar shook his head. “Oh no, he was not a Duke then. He was heir to his father’s Earldom.”
“I must say that I am quite thoroughly confused,” Edward said as he propped his can up on his chair so he could have both of his hands free.
There was a nod of Oscar’s head. “I can see how you might be. It seems odd to me as well when I stop and think about it all.” Oscar frowned and took another deep drink from his glass.
Edward decided not to push the man too hard and let Oscar drink. While Edward nursed his own drink, he nodded along to the odd bits of conversation that Oscar occasionally felt the need to ramble out. The more the man drank, the more he rambled.
“We wanted to go altogether,” Oscar said suddenly as if he were thinking back in time. “James, Edward, Augustus, and I were going to have a great adventure.”
The Revenge of the Betrayed Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 18
