Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager

by Sarah Mallory

Gloriana looked at him and for a moment her guard dropped.

  ‘I only want his happiness, Markham. If you could assure me of that I could be reconciled.’

  ‘I wish that were possible, but I cannot believe it.’ He frowned. ‘You know he has offered her marriage, and she refused him?’

  ‘He wrote to tell me. I hoped that would be the end of it, but today he seems as beguiled as ever.’

  ‘I know, ma’am. I have failed to find anything against the lady. However, my enquiries about her friend Mrs Logan have proved far more interesting. She is the widow of a soldier and the story goes that he quit the army to open a gambling house in Portsmouth. When Logan died, his widow sold up and came to Bath, where she now lives in respectable retirement. I am not in the habit of listening to the gossip-mongers, but having watched the lady at work at one of Mrs Wilby’s little parties I know that she is very good with the cards. Good enough to be a professional.’ He strode to the window and stood for a moment, looking out. ‘Add that to the skill shown by both Miss Prentess and her aunt and I cannot help thinking that there is more to their little card parties than mere social entertainment. I would wager that at the end of the evening the three ladies come away from the tables considerably richer than they started.’

  ‘A gaming hell. Oh my heavens.’ Gloriana resorted to her handkerchief. ‘To think my poor boy should be caught in the tangles of such women.’

  Jasper shook his head.

  ‘By London standards the stakes are trivial, and the play is certainly not deep enough to cause concern. There is no faro bank, something which attracted a great deal of criticism when employed by several high-born ladies in London twenty years ago. But the suspicion persists that they run their little parties at the Crescent for profit. Not that there is anything wrong with that, if they would but own it.’

  ‘In Royal Crescent? It would never be permitted!’

  ‘No, ma’am, I suppose you are right.’

  ‘And you have spoken to Gerald about this? You have told him the sort of woman he has given his heart to?’

  ‘I have tried, but he is deaf to any criticism of Miss Prentess.’ He turned away from the window, his jaw set. ‘My cousin is seriously besotted with the woman. I think he would have to witness the lady’s fall from grace for himself before he would see her for what she really is.’

  ‘Then that is what must happen.’

  There was such an air of grim determination behind the words that the corners of Jasper’s mouth lifted a trifle.

  ‘I’m afraid wishing won’t make it happen, ma’am.’

  ‘No, but you could,’ came the confident reply. ‘You have a reputation with the ladies, Markham, your flirtations are forever gracing the society pages. You must seduce Susannah Prentess!’

  Chapter Four

  Whatever startled response Jasper would have made was silenced by Gerald’s coming back into the room at that moment. Nor was there opportunity to discuss the matter again, for very soon afterwards the gentlemen took their leave. Gloriana squeezed Jasper’s fingers as he bowed over her hand, and the speaking look in her eyes told him that she relied upon him to comply with her outrageous suggestion.

  But was it so outrageous? Jasper pondered the matter as he rode back to Bath beside Gerald, the setting sun casting long shadows before them and the chill wind cutting through their coats. If he succeeded in turning the lady’s head then it would destroy his young cousin’s infatuation at a stroke. Many men would not hesitate, but for all his reputation Jasper had never yet set out to make any woman fall in love with him. He might have done so with Zelah, if it had not become plain to him that she was head over heels in love with his brother. She was the only woman he had ever loved, the only woman he had ever considered taking as his wife, so there was no danger that he would succumb to Miss Prentess’s charms. He could flirt with her, court her, even seduce her without risk to himself.

  He shifted in the saddle. What of the risk to the lady? If he went that far it would ruin her reputation and she would lose her good name. He hardened his heart. She had every young man in Bath at her feet and from what he had seen at her aunt’s card party she was fleecing them quite ruthlessly. The amounts might be small, but over the weeks they would mount up to a considerable sum. Enough to live quite comfortably. Dammit, the woman was running a gaming hell, she deserved no good name!

  ‘Eh, what’s that?’ Gerald looked round. ‘Did you say something?’

  Jasper glanced at the young man riding beside him.

  ‘Aye. I was wondering about those little card parties of Mrs Wilby’s. Do you think they profit from them?’

  Gerald shrugged.

  ‘A hundred or two, perhaps. I doubt it is ever more than a monkey.’

  ‘I should hope not.’ He paused. ‘Does it not concern you that they are making money out of these parties?’

  Gerald looked at him.

  ‘No, why? The sums are negligible.’ He laughed. ‘Mother told me that when she was young the London hostesses made thousands in an evening, especially those who ran a faro bank. And they charged their guests card money, to cover the cost of the new packs. Mrs Wilby does nothing like that. Her parties are for friends to gather together and enjoy themselves.’

  ‘And lose money.’

  ‘Not everyone loses.’

  ‘But enough to make it a worthwhile evening for the hostess.’

  ‘And why not?’ countered Gerald. ‘We might all go elsewhere and lose a great deal more.’ He shook his head. ‘Let be, Jasper. Those of us who go there choose to do so, and if we lose a few guineas, well, what does it matter? I would lose twice as much to Miss Prentess and think it money well spent.’

  Jasper said no more and the subject was not mentioned again during their ride back to Bath. It irked him that Susannah Prentess, with her charming smile and beautiful face, had quite beguiled his cousin, and if he had to make her fall in love with him to free Gerald from her clutches he would do it. He would even risk ruining her good name, if that was the only option, though his innate sense of honour balked at such a course. But it would be a cruel trick to play upon his young cousin. If it was at all possible he would find another way to prove to Gerald that the lady was not the angel he thought her to be.

  * * *

  As soon as they had left the Pump Room, Mrs Wilby made clear her disapproval at being dragged away so precipitately.

  ‘What will everyone think of you, Susannah? To dash away so suddenly, with Mr Barnabus and the viscount only just arrived.’

  ‘They will think nothing of it, Aunt. And besides, I am quite out of sympathy with you for inviting them to join us tomorrow.’

  ‘But why? What possible objection can there be?’

  ‘None, to Mr Barnabus, but the viscount...’ She bit her lip, wondering how to explain her reluctance to see more of Lord Markham. ‘I think he suspects something.’

  Mrs Wilby stopped.

  ‘Oh heavens, never say so! Oh, Susannah—’

  ‘No, no, he can have no inkling of the truth, and Gerald would never tell him, I am sure.’ She took Aunt Maude’s arm and gently urged her on. ‘It is just the comments he made to me, as if he thinks we run some sort of gambling den.’

  ‘All the more reason, then, for him to take tea with us and see that it is not the case,’ declared Mrs Wilby. ‘A gambling den! How perfectly ridiculous.’

  Her aunt’s outraged dignity made Susannah chuckle.

  ‘But if he is suspicious of you,’ continued Mrs Wilby, ‘perhaps it would be best if you curtailed your visits to...’

  ‘My dear aunt, I will do nothing of the sort. In fact, I am going there tomorrow morning. Really, I did not realise, when I started this, this project, that there would be so much to do, or that it would cost so much.’

  ‘If people knew of it, Susannah, they would be quite scandalised.’

  ‘I am an heiress, Aunt,’ she said drily. ‘They would merely think me eccentric. If only I had control of my fortune now there woul
d be no problem over money, but my uncle has bound it all up so tight I cannot even borrow upon the expectation, unless I go to a money-lender.’

  ‘Oh heavens, child, pray do not even think of it!’

  ‘I don’t. But we will need to find extra money soon.’ She sighed. ‘My dependence is upon you and Kate to win a little more at our next card party.’

  ‘Which will make Lord Markham even more suspicious,’ said Mrs Wilby bitterly. ‘I have a mind not to take tea with anyone tomorrow. I shall write and tell them all I have been laid low with a fever.’

  ‘No, no, dear Aunt, let them all come. ’Pon reflection, I think you are quite right. Nothing could be more respectable than the guests you have invited. Lord Markham is most likely to be bored to death and will beat a speedy retreat!’

  * * *

  It was a cold, clear afternoon, but a biting wind made Susannah glad she had ordered her carriage to take her and Kate to Henrietta Street. They drew up on the gentle curve of the street outside one of the elegant three-

  storey houses, where only the array of fabrics displayed in the window gave an indication that this was not a private residence. A young woman in a plain dark gown opened the door to them.

  ‘Good day to you, Mabel. Is Odesse upstairs?’

  ‘Good day, Miss Prentess, Mrs Logan. Yes, Madame Odesse is in the showroom with Mrs Anstruther.’

  ‘And how is little James?’ murmured Susannah as she followed the girl up the stairs.

  ‘Oh, he is doing very well, miss, putting on weight just as he should, and sleeping through the night now.’ Mabel cast her a quick, shy smile. ‘It is so good to have him close, where I can keep an eye on him.’

  They had reached the landing and Mabel showed them into the large reception room, where a dark-haired woman wearing a plain but exquisitely sewn round gown was talking with a formidable matron in a

  Pomona-green redingote and matching turban, assuring madame in a lilting foreign accent that her new gown would be completed tout de suite.

  She looked up as her new visitors came in, but Susannah waved her hand.

  ‘No, no, madame, please continue serving Mrs Anstruther. We are happy to browse amongst these new fabrics.’ Her smile included the matron, who quickly looked away.

  ‘Thank you, I have finished here.’ Mrs Anstruther hastily pulled on her gloves and headed for the door. ‘If you will have the new gown delivered to me this afternoon, madame...’

  She hurried out and Madame Odesse shut the door carefully behind her.

  ‘Miss Prentess, Mrs Logan, how good of you to call. Will you not be seated?’

  Susannah noted with a smile that all trace of the vague European accent had disappeared from the modiste’s tone.

  ‘This continuing cold weather has made it necessary for me to order a new redingote, and I have persuaded Mrs Logan it is time she bought a new gown. We have brought with us a length of silk especially for the purpose.’ Susannah smiled. ‘I trust everything goes well here?’

  ‘Very well, thank you, we have made some changes.’ Odesse paused. ‘Would you like to come and see?’

  ‘We would indeed!’

  She took them back down the stairs and through a door on the ground floor. The room was alive with quiet chatter, which stopped as they went in. Four young women were present, sitting near the large window. Each one was engaged in sewing the swathe of material spread over her knees, while a nearby table was covered in a confusion of brightly coloured material and threads. Madame Odesse waved an expressive hand

  ‘This is now our sewing room.’

  Susannah smiled at the young ladies but hastily begged them not to get up or stop their work. She was acquainted with them all and knew that each one had a baby to look after. The absence of cribs and crying was noticeable.

  ‘Where are the children?’ she asked.

  ‘We take it in turns now to stay in the nursery with the babes,’ offered one of the girls in a shy voice. She added, indicating the cloud of pale-blue woollen fabric on her lap, ‘I am sewing the final seam of your walking dress now, Miss Prentess.’

  ‘My girls find they prefer to work away from the babies,’ added the modiste. ‘We have six seamstresses living here now, and Mabel, of course, who is proving herself a valuable assistant to me. Two of my girls stay in the nursery while the others get on with the sewing.’

  ‘And the lace-makers?’ asked Kate. ‘How do they go on?’

  ‘Very well.’ Madame Odesse’s dark eyes twinkled. ‘The fashion for extensive trimming on gowns could not have come at a better time. Demand is growing for our exclusive lace, and I hope they will be able to train up a few more girls soon.’

  ‘And have you room for more seamstresses?’

  ‘Certainly,’ agreed Odesse. ‘If we keep getting new customers then I shall have work for them, too.’

  She led them down another flight of stairs to the nursery, where two young women were looking after the babies in a large, comfortably warm room. Susannah and Kate spent some time in the nursery before making their way back upstairs, Susannah declaring herself very satisfied with the arrangements.

  ‘It appears to be working out very well,’ she remarked, when they were once again in the reception room. ‘The children are content and their mothers seem happy.’

  The modiste took her hands and pressed them, saying earnestly, ‘We all appreciate your giving us this chance to keep our babies and earn a living, Miss Prentess.’

  ‘I am glad to do it, and the gowns you have made for me are very much admired, Olive—I mean Odesse,’ Susannah corrected herself hastily. ‘I beg your pardon!’

  The seamstress laughed and shook her head.

  ‘I would not have you beg my pardon for anything. When I consider what might have happened, to all of us....’ There was a moment’s uneasy silence before she shook off her reflective mood and said brightly, ‘The new apricot silk you ordered arrived this morning, and I know just the design I would like to make for you...’

  * * *

  An hour later the ladies were on their way back to Royal Crescent, a number of packages on the seat beside them and the prospect of more new gowns to follow.

  ‘I must say, I never thought charity would be so pleasurable,’ declared Kate, smiling. ‘Your idea of setting the girls up in their own establishment was a very good one, Susannah.’

  ‘I merely made use of Olive’s talent for sewing. She has such a shrewd eye for design, too.’

  ‘But it is unlikely she would have succeeded alone, and with a young baby to support.’ Kate reached out and squeezed her arm. ‘You should be very proud of yourself, my dear.’

  ‘I am very proud of my ladies,’ replied Susannah. ‘I have merely provided the means. It is their hard work that is making it such a success.’

  ‘If only the starched matrons of Bath knew that their gowns were being made by unmarried mothers they might not be so keen to patronise Odesse.’

  ‘I do not think they care who makes their clothes as long as they are fashionable and a good price,’ retorted Susannah. ‘Florence House, however, is a different matter. News of that establishment will scandalise the sober matrons, so I hope we can keep it a secret, at least until I have control of my fortune and can support it without the aid of Aunt Maude’s card parties.’

  * * *

  Winter would not release its grip and when Jasper rose at his usual early hour the following morning, there was a hint of frost glistening on the Bath rooftops. He decided to take a long walk before breakfast. Enquiries of the waiter in the near-empty coffee room elicited the information that the view from Beechen Cliff was well worth the effort, so he set out, heading south through streets where only the tradespeople were yet in evidence. Striding out, he soon came to the quay and the bridge that took him across the river, and he could begin the climb to Beechen Cliff.

  When he reached the heights he considered himself well rewarded. Looking north, Bath was spread out in all its glory below him. Smoke was begin
ning to rise from the chimneys of the honey-coloured terraces but it was not yet sufficient to cloud his view and his gaze moved past the Abbey until it reached the sweeping curve of the Royal Crescent. Immediately his thoughts turned to Miss Prentess and Gerald. If it wasn’t for those damned card parties he would be inclined to tell Gloriana to give Gerald her blessing and let nature take its course. After all, the lady had refused him once. He would wager that if he was left alone, Gerald would recover from his infatuation and settle down with a suitable young bride in a year or so.

  But it was Susannah Prentess who set the alarm bells ringing in his head. Why did a rich young woman need to engage in card parties to raise money? If she was looking for a brilliant match then why was she not in London? With her good looks and her fortune there were plenty of eligible bachelors who would be eager to win her hand. Clearly there was something more to the lady than met the eye, and he was determined to discover it.

  The icy wind cut his cheeks, reminding him of his exposed position and a sudden hunger made him eager for his breakfast. Jasper set off on the return journey at a good pace. The streets were busier now with a constant stream of carts and wagons making their way across the bridge. He heard the jingle of harness behind him and looked round. The equipage was quite the smartest to pass him that morning and clearly a private carriage, although there was no liveried footman standing on the back. The sun’s reflection from the river shone through the carriage window and illuminated the interior so that Jasper could see its occupant quite clearly. There could be no mistaking Susannah Prentess’s perfect profile, nor the guinea-gold curls peeping out beneath her silk bonnet. Jasper raised his hat but even as he did so he knew she had not seen him. The lady appeared to be deep in thought. However, Jasper had to own that to see her out and about so early in the day, when most of her kind would be still at their dressing table, did her no disservice in his eyes. His spirits, lifted by the exercise, rose a little higher, and he found himself looking forward to the forthcoming visit to Royal Crescent.

  * * *

  ‘Ah, my lord, Mr Barnabus, I am so pleased you could join us.’