‘Susannah, I give you my word—’
‘Don’t you dare use my name,’ she shot back at him. ‘How dare you even speak to me!’
She went to move away but his fingers tightened on her arm.
‘I do not know who has given away your secret, but it was not me.’
She shook off his hand.
‘Everyone else who knows about Florence House has been party to the secret for months and not a hint of it has leaked out. But only days after I tell you, it is common knowledge.’
‘However that may be, it is not my doing, and not my groom’s either. He knows better than to talk out of turn.’
‘I do not believe you.’ Her lip curled. ‘Pray leave me, Lord Markham. I have no wish for your company this evening.’
Susannah turned away and this time he made no attempt to prevent her. She made her way back through the crowd to her aunt’s side, prepared to explain the angry flush on her cheek, but Aunt Maude merely gave her a distracted smile.
‘Mr Barnabus has gone, Susannah, but he said to remind you that you promised to dance with him later. Oh dear, I have received the cut direct from at least two ladies, and Mrs Sanstead says I should persuade you to distance yourself from Florence House if you are not to be ostracised by Bath society.’
‘Really? How dare these small-minded matrons think they can dictate to me!’
‘Now, Susannah, pray be careful,’ Aunt Maude begged her. ‘Do not let your temper carry you away. We need the good offices of these ladies. How else are we to fund Florence House for the rest of this year?’
‘I neither know nor care,’ Susanna ground out furiously.
‘Perhaps we should close the house, until we have more funds.’
Aunt Maude’s tentative suggestion brought Susannah’s outraged eyes upon her, but after a moment her fury died down.
‘No, I will not do that, unless there is no other way.’ She looked around. ‘I expected to see Kate here.’
Mrs Wilby tutted.
‘Oh, my dear, it completely slipped my mind. She sent a note to say she was going out of town for a few days.’
‘That is a pity, I would have liked her support tonight. Never mind.’ Susannah put on a brave smile. ‘We shall stand our ground, Aunt. One or two may turn away from us, but our true friends will stand by us, and I hope once the gossip has died down we shall recover.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘Besides, I cannot leave yet. Odesse assured me this latest gown she has created for me will look its best when I am dancing.’
* * *
There was no lack of partners for Susannah, but the numbers soliciting her to dance were sadly diminished, and the high-nosed stares she received from a group of matrons standing with Mrs Farthing suggested that many of them were shocked to learn of her involvement with Florence House. Keeping her head high, Susannah smiled and laughed with her dance partners, but by the time she rejoined her aunt after a series of lively country dances her cheeks ached with the effort.
‘Heavens, I never thought dancing could be such a chore,’ she muttered, following Aunt Maude to a space where they might not be overheard, but when asked if she wanted to go home, she quickly disclaimed, ‘I beg your pardon, Aunt, I should not be complaining. There are still many here who do not care a fig for my association with Florence House.’
‘Yes, my love, but they are not the high sticklers who can make a difference to our long-term plans. If the cream of Bath society should turn against you, then your patronage of Odesse could count against her—’ Aunt Maude broke off and gazed past Susannah, a wary look in her eye.
‘Miss Prentess, would you do me the honour of standing up with me for the next dance?’
Jasper’s cool voice brought the angry flush back to Susannah’s cheeks. Had he not understood what she had said to him? Without turning, she said coldly, ‘No, my lord, I will not.’
Aunt Maude gasped in horror, but Susannah merely hunched one white shoulder. Instead of moving off, the viscount stepped closer. She was aware of his presence, the heat of his body at her back. She could feel his breath on her cheek as he spoke quietly in her ear.
‘Think carefully about this, madam. Your credit in Bath is sadly diminished. Can you afford not to dance with me?’
She bit her lip. He was right. It did not take Aunt Maude’s beseeching stare to tell her so. Slowly she turned around. He smiled and held out his arm, but the steely glint in his eye told her he was not in the mood to be refused. Reluctantly she placed her fingers on his sleeve.
‘That is better. Let us see what we can do to repair the damage.’
‘I am doing this under sufferance,’ she muttered as he led her on to the floor. ‘I have not forgiven you.’
‘Since I am not at fault there is nothing to forgive,’ he retorted. They took their places facing one another, more duellists than dancers. He bowed to her as the music started, and as they passed in the dance he continued, ‘Do you know, you are the most stubborn female I have ever met.’
‘It must be a novel experience for you, my lord, to find a woman who will not toady and flatter you.’ She bit the words off quickly as they circled about the other dancers. Angry as she was, Susannah did not wish anyone else to hear their argument. When Jasper took her hand again he carried on the conversation.
‘Not at all—’ they separated, circled, returned ‘—there are many such, but few who would be as ungrateful as you.’
Susannah’s eyes flashed, but she was obliged to hold back her retort until they were once again holding hands.
‘Oh, so I should be obliged to you, should I, because you deign to stand up with me?’
‘No, you tiresome wench, because I am trying my utmost to prevent you from becoming a pariah. My attendance upon you may persuade those ladies whose support you need to think better of you.’ His lips curved upwards as he watched her struggle. He reached out and took her hand as the last notes of the music died away. ‘You know I am right,’ he murmured as he bowed over her fingers. ‘I can make you or break you tonight.’ He straightened and bestowed on her his most charming smile. ‘Well, Miss Prentess, what is it to be? Shall we stay for the cotillion?’
The fact that he was right did nothing for Susannah’s temper. In any other circumstances she would have swept off and left him standing alone on the dance floor, but she was well aware that such an action would only increase the disapprobation already surrounding her. She cared nothing for her own standing in Bath, but at present Florence House could not survive without the extra revenue she could provide. In the future she hoped there would be sufficient money from Odesse and the lace-makers to help maintain the house, but
this was a critical time. She needed the viscount’s support.
With enormous effort she forced herself to smile at him, saying through her clenched teeth, ‘With the greatest of pleasure, Lord Markham.’
* * *
‘Well, that passed off exceeding well,’ declared Mrs Wilby as she waited for Susannah to extricate herself from her chair in the hallway of Royal Crescent. ‘Lord Markham’s timely intervention had a profound effect on everyone. Even before you had finished the cotillion Lady Horsham and Mrs Bray-Tillotson came up to speak to me, and I have received no more than a nod from either of them before.’ She took Susannah’s arm and led her into the morning room on the ground floor, where candles burned and the fire had been built up for their return. ‘And then to join Mr Barnabus in escorting us to supper. Why, even Mrs Farthing and her cronies could not quite snub us after that!’
‘No’ Susannah moved towards the fire to warm her hands. ‘His lordship was most accommodating.’
‘Indeed he was. I think he must regret letting slip our secret.’
‘He maintains he said nothing.’
‘Well then, it was even more considerate of him to give us so much of his time tonight.’
It was clear to Susannah that her aunt had been very anxious about their reception at the ball and her relief now took the form of conti
nuous chatter. Susannah let it wash over her for a few minutes before making her excuses and fleeing to her bedroom.
She was obliged to be grateful for the viscount’s attentions but she would have preferred a simple apology. In that he was no different from most men, so arrogant that he would not admit he had been at fault, that he had made known her connection with Florence House. His refusal to do so had quite spoiled her evening. Jasper was a good dancer and in other circumstances she would have revelled in standing up with him for the cotillion, holding his hands, laughing up into his face, but his perfidy hung between them like a cloud. She had kept her smile in place, concentrating on the intricacies of the dance and determined not to allow her anger to be visible to the constantly changing partners, but it had been difficult.
The viscount had been most attentive at supper, too. Outwardly Susannah had been serene and smiling, but he had not been deceived, and once Dorcas had undressed her, brushed out her hair and departed, Susannah slipped between the sheets and relived her brief, final meeting with the viscount.
They had been waiting for their cloaks when Jasper came up to take his leave. He had taken advantage of the noisy, bustling chatter to speak to her alone.
‘You will not cry friends with me?’
‘I am, of course, grateful for what you have done tonight, my lord...’
‘Well that is something, I suppose.’ He took her hand. ‘I have much ground to make up, but I will come about, Susannah, believe me.’
But, of course, she could not believe him. She could not trust him ever again.
* * *
When Jasper awoke the following morning his first conscious thought was of Susannah Prentess. How she had ripped up at him when she thought he had broken his word to her. She had looked quite magnificent, those hazel eyes flashing with emerald-green sparks of anger. It would take time and patience to convince her he had not been to blame but it would be worth it. For the present he hoped he had deflected some of the disapproval away from her—surely the attentions of a viscount would count for something with the Bath harpies.
He jumped out of bed and rang the bell. He was eager to see Susannah again—it surprised him a little to realise how much he wanted to see her—but he must allow her a day or two. At present she was too angry to listen to reasoned argument. There was plenty to do. He had letters to write to his man of business, and he and Gerald had discussed plans for a riding party with Charles Camerton and a few of the other gentlemen of their acquaintance, so perhaps he should talk to Gerald about that. Still, he might take a walk this morning, and if he should happen to bump into Miss Prentess, well....
* * *
He made his way to the Pump Room, stopping off on his way to call at the White Hart, where he was told that Mr Camerton was gone away.
‘We are expecting him back in a day or so, though, m’lord,’ said the servant, pocketing the coin Jasper pressed into his hand. ‘He’s left his bags here.’
With an inward shrug Jasper left the inn. His plans to form a riding party must wait, then. He crossed the road to the Pump Room, but a quick tour of the crowded room informed him that Susannah and her aunt were not present. However, having ventured into the busy meeting place, he could not leave before speaking to a number of his acquaintances and listening to the latest gossip. He was pleased that this no longer centred on Susannah—she had been supplanted by the news that the Dowager Countess of Gisburne was in Bath.
Jasper received the information with interest, and set off for Laura Place, where he was shown into the countess’s drawing room by her stately butler.
He found himself in the presence of an elderly lady dressed in black satin. She was sitting in a large, carved armchair, her back ramrod straight, and the bright eyes that watched him cross the room were remarkably piercing.
‘Markham...’ she held out her hand ‘...I did not expect to find you here, but it is a pleasant surprise. You will take wine with me? Good.’ She paused while he bowed over her fingers and did not object when he then leaned forwards to kiss her cheek. ‘You can tell me how your family go on. I saw your sister in town, looking radiant, as ever. And how is Dominic, my godson? I wanted to get to Rooks Tower for the christening, but the weather...’ She waved one beringed hand. ‘I would have risked it, but Gisburne and my doctor were adamant.’
‘And quite right, too, ma’am,’ Jasper agreed, pulling up a chair and sitting down. ‘Dominic would never forgive you for knocking yourself up with such a journey. He is inordinately happy, you know.’
‘Having met his wife I can believe it,’ replied the dowager. ‘Zelah Coale is a very sensible gel, and a reliable correspondent, too.’
‘Yes, she has won all our hearts.’
Even as he uttered the words, Jasper realised with a slight jolt of surprise that Zelah had not been in his thoughts for some weeks now.
‘And how are you, my boy—still leading the young ladies a merry dance?’
‘Rather the reverse, ma’am,’ he replied, thinking of Susannah. ‘But tell me, what brings you to Bath?’
‘The winter left me a trifle fagged and my doctor thought it would do me good to take the waters.’
‘As long as it is nothing serious.’
‘Not a whit, although I don’t doubt Gisburne and his wife would like it to be. They must wish me at Jericho.’
Jasper grinned, too well acquainted with the dowager’s easy-natured son to believe any such thing.
‘You know he would dispute that, and your many charities would miss you, too.’ He paused, gazing down at the large signet ring on his finger. ‘And talking of your charities, I think you may be able to help me.’
‘Go on.’
Jasper took advantage of the servant’s entrance to consider his words. Once the glasses had been filled and they were alone again he began.
‘A friend...’ He hesitated, knowing that in her present mood Susannah would object strongly to the term. ‘An acquaintance has set up a home for young ladies of gentle birth who have been abandoned by their families for, ah...’
‘For being pregnant,’ she finished for him. ‘There is no need to be mealy-mouthed with me, Markham.’
He smiled.
‘I beg your pardon. Let me explain...’
* * *
When he had finished telling her about Florence House, the lace-makers and Odesse, Lady Gisburne nodded slowly.
‘Exemplary.’ She put down her empty wineglass. ‘What is it you want from me?’
‘Ostensibly all this was set up by Mrs Wilby. Now it is known that her unmarried niece is closely involved with Florence House and the Bath tabbies are sharpening their claws. Some have already cut the acquaintance. If they learn of the connection with the modiste it could destroy the small income that keeps the house going.’ He refilled the glasses and held one out to the Dowager. ‘The niece is an heiress and I believe she intends to fund the scheme, once she comes into her inheritance, but that will not be for a year or two yet. I would like to help them.’
She looked at him over the rim of her glass.
‘Repenting past sins, Markham?’
‘Certainly not,’ he replied, in no way offended. ‘Seducing innocents has never been my style, and despite my reputation I have always been alive to the consequences of my actions. I am tolerably certain there are no bastards of mine in the world. No, it is purely altruistic.’ He found he could not meet that searching gaze and studied the contents of his wineglass instead. ‘Any offer of assistance from me would be rejected, but you could tell Mrs Wilby there is an anonymous benefactor who wishes to invest in some worthy cause.’
The dowager sipped at her wine, a slight crease furrowing her brow. Jasper waited patiently, knowing better than to disturb the old lady. At last she looked up, a glimmer of a smile on her sharp features.
‘Very well, I will do it. If only to confound the Bath tabbies!’
Chapter Twelve
When Saturday dawned wet and windy, Susannah and Mrs Wilby deci
ded to remain indoors. They settled quietly to their sewing, although Susannah’s work remained untouched on her lap for most of the time. Her thoughts kept going back to the viscount and his refusal to admit he had spoken to anyone about Florence House. She had seen too many of the young men in Bath bluster and boast. One could not rely on any of them, but it surprised her how much it hurt her to know the viscount was one of their number. She had thought him different from the rest. She had hoped—quickly she stifled her half-formed thoughts. She would think no more about it. When Mrs Wilby addressed some remark to her she replied briefly and bent her head over her tambour frame once more. She had thought herself quite content with her lot, but recently she had to admit that the future as an unmarried lady seemed rather a lonely one.
Susannah was surprised out of this melancholy train of thought by Gatley coming in to announce a visitor.
‘The Dowager Countess of Gisburne?’ Aunt Maude dropped her sewing in amazement. ‘But we do not know—I saw her name in Mr King’s visitors’ book, but—oh, show her up, Gatley, show her up! Good heavens, what on earth has brought a dowager countess to our door?’
‘I have no idea, Aunt, but we shall soon know.’ Susannah quickly put away the sewing things while her aunt patted her cap and straightened her gown.
The Dowager was a thin, formidable-looking figure, her severe black gown relieved by a vast quantity of white lace. Her dark, bird-like eyes rested for a moment on Susannah as she entered the room, before she turned her attention to Aunt Maude.
‘Mrs Wilby, we have not been introduced, but I hope you will forgive the intrusion when you know my business.’
Murmuring, Aunt Maude rose from her curtsy and begged the dowager to be seated.
She moved to a sofa and sat down, saying in her forthright manner, ‘I believe you are responsible for an establishment near here. Florence House.’
Susannah looked up.
‘Goodness me, ma’am, however did you hear of that?’
Those sharp eyes flickered over her again, and Susannah saw the gleam of amusement in their depths.
Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager Page 16
