Elizabeth had a long night ahead of her. She stared at her reflection in her mirror. Her father had just left for his night on the town. As she had suspected, there was absolutely nothing the matter with the old goat.
Well, he was still a jackass, but she knew that nothing could cure that ailment. He’d been awfully attentive to her, and had showered her with affection—most of which, she hadn’t wanted.
She pulled on her dark green jacket, and smoothed out her trousers. Now all that she had to do was don her wig, moustache and spectacles. Then, she would be ready to take her revenge.
She walked over to her dressing table, and stared down at the miniature portrait of her mother. Mallory’s hair had been tucked inside of the locket, and she picked it up to run it through her bare fingers before she pulled on her gloves.
She looked at the letter that Mallory had given her before that fateful last battle. She sighed, and summoning strength, she broke the wax seal on it, and started reading.
My dearest Elizabeth,
No matter what happens to me…pray remember one thing—I will love you until my dying breath…and then, most likely in the Hereafter, for our love is something that cannot die. I have never loved anyone as completely as I love you. My love for you has brought me back to the man I used to be.
I was born the second son of a duke, and christened with the name Mallory Jonathan Morgan St. Martin. For most of my life, I was known as Lord Mallory. Upon my brother’s death at Trafalgar, I suddenly found myself thrust into a position I did not desire, indeed, I had never coveted. I was my father’s last remaining male heir, and as such, upon his death, I would become The 8th Duke of Chichester.
When my Papa died, I discovered that your father had gambled with my father at White’s, and my poor misguided father lost it all, save for our ancestral castle, Chichester Castle. My family was lowered into a situation I had never dreamt of, and I suddenly had to find a way to recoup our losses, and save the St. Martin Legacy. The rage I felt at the unfairness of it all was nearly crippling. I knew I had to protect my mother and my sisters from the cruelness of it all.
I was foolish to think I could exact my revenge against Woodward by using you. And, I shall always regret this foolhardy decision. You were not responsible for your father’s despicable deeds, and putting you through your paces was the worst thing I have ever done, especially since I have loved you from the very first moment I laid eyes upon you.
I humbly beg for your forgiveness, and as I am not accustomed to begging. This alone, is proof of my love for you. If I have not survived the battle…I pray that you have, and that you will think fondly of me until your dying day. I also hope you will find a man worthy of you, for I sometimes wonder if I am.
Be happy, darling.
With all of my love,
Mallory.
Sighing heavily, she shut her eyes, and whispered a plea for forgiveness. She had thought too badly of Mallory, and had pushed him away when she should have thrown herself into his arms. Tonight, she would succeed in her endeavor, and she would have everything back that she and Mallory had lost.
She walked out of her bedchamber, and down the marble staircase. The servants had all retired, and she would be able to slip out unnoticed, and climb into Mary’s waiting carriage.
She bypassed the sleeping footmen that stood on watch until her father returned, and slipped out the door. She walked down the steps, and smiled when Mary’s carriage pulled into view.
The footman climbed down, and opened the door and lowered the steps, so that she could climb up. She settled herself next to Mary, and then Ronald tapped the ceiling with his walking stick to tell the driver to move on.
“Goodness gracious! If I had not been prepared, I would have never suspected that it was you, Elizabeth. Upon my word, you look quite altered.” Mary’s eyes were wide, and Ronald merely chuckled.
“You don’t think Mallory will recognize me, do you?”
“I daresay not. Although your sparkling eyes might betray you. They are your shining glory, Elizabeth.” Mary shook her head adamantly, and then smiled, “That poor man, when he does discover the truth, he will think that he has gone straight to Bedlam.”
“Oh, Mary. I would say that she does look the part of an effeminate dandy, that’s really nothing too manly about her.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Mary relented.
“I don’t care one way or the other, so long as it gains me admittance to White’s, as your guest, Ron.”
“You can be sure that it will,” he said reassuringly.
“Of course it will,” Mary decided.
“I don’t know how I can ever thank the two of you for your help.”
“Think nothing of it,” Ron said smiling. “However, perhaps, we could use your townhouse in Brighton during the little season. And your country estate in…”
“Ronald!” Mary exclaimed. “We do not expect anything from you, my dear. Except that is, to make Mallory a happy man, and we expect to enjoy a lifetime friendship with you and Mallory.”
“Oh, you can bet on that one,” Elizabeth sighed.
“Wouldn’t it be glorious if our little Alistair, and a daughter of yours, with Mallory married some day?” Mary asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Now, my dearest,” Ron said, clearing his throat. “I do believe you are thinking far ahead of yourself.”
“Am I, darling?” Mary asked innocently.
As their carriage pulled onto St. James’s Street, Elizabeth’s nervousness about the evening almost got the better of her. Before she knew it, she would be bowing to Mallory, as if she had just been introduced to him.
She would have to watch her tongue closely, for she did not want to accidentally call him by his first name, for that would definitely blow her ship right out of the water.
“Here we are,” Ronald said, as they drew up to the gentleman’s club. Ronald eyed her warily. “Calm down. We can’t go in there until you’re in character. You’ll be fine, Bess. You’ve always been better at cards than your papa. I remember when you bested him at the tender age of eight. You were such a small and bright little thing.
“He was so enraged, and your mama was so delighted. After he blustered a good deal, it must have finally dawned on him that having you be so clever was a credit to him, because by the next day he was boasting to my Papa about how clever you were and that my Papa didn’t have such a clever a child in his large brood. Fortunately, my Papa was smart enough not to contradict him, and I often wonder if he agreed with your papa, as none of us really are as sharp as you,” Ronald laughed.
“Ronald, I shall send the carriage back to wait for you, once it takes me home. Godspeed, you two,” Mary murmured, squeezing Elizabeth’s gloved hand affectionately. “I think that when this night is through, Mallory will discover that you are the rarest jewel on Earth.”
“I dearly hope so,” Elizabeth murmured, sliding toward the door. “I was fooling myself when I thought I could go on without him. I can’t deny myself my greatest treasure. If I do…I will end up hating myself.”
“Yes, you will,” Mary agreed.
Elizabeth climbed down the steps, unassisted, although Ron kept an eye on her to make sure she didn’t fall and break her neck. She inhaled deeply, attempting to fortify herself for her coming adventure. It was a clear night, and the stars were visible in the sky.
They were soon admitted into the club, and the familiar sounds of glasses clinking, laughter rolling through the club, and men talking, met her ears. She almost panicked when she caught sight of her cousin.
“Ron,” she murmured urgently. “It’s Raleigh! We need to leave before he ruins our plan.”
“You needn’t worry, he shan’t recognize you,” Ron said calmly, smiling, as someone called out a greeting to him. Like her, Ron’s mother hailed from British aristocracy, and despite being an American, he was fairly well received amongst his British peers.
“You don’t understand, Ron,” she said, “he kno
ws all about my merry game of dress up. How do you think I gained admittance to the various clubs and gaming hells? I couldn’t very well do it alone! He was the one that dared me to do it in the first place! Oh, no, here he comes, our goose is cooked,” she groaned.
“Lord Beaconsfield,” Ron said, nodding to him.
Raleigh eyed Ron indifferently.
“There seems to be something quite familiar about you, sir, but I do not think we have been formerly introduced. Perhaps Bess could do the formalities for us.”
She groaned. She could only pray that the club was so noisy that no one had heard Raleigh. “Pray keep your voice down, Raleigh,” she hissed, watching to make sure that Mallory hadn’t noticed their exchange yet. Even if he did, he couldn’t know who Raleigh was without an introduction, could he?
“Raleigh, this is my childhood friend, Ronald MacLeod. You must recall me telling you about him.”
“Ah, yes. I think I might have met you when we were all younger, MacLeod. Your sisters, if I remember correctly, are quite lovely.”
Ron’s colour was up, and he was reading more into what Raleigh was saying than what her cousin actually meant. He was paying Ron a sincere compliment, not lusting over his sisters, as he probably presumed.
“Yes, they are quite fair, Raleigh. Prettier than me, at any rate,” she said quickly, hoping to avert fisticuffs between the two of them. Ron was fairly easy going, on everything, except when it came to his family. He was very protective of his family.
Ron grumbled, and Raleigh raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t exactly say that, Bess,” he murmured. “Please, Bess, I hope you harbour no ill will toward me, for my Mama’s bad behaviour.”
“No, I don’t. You can’t be held accountable for her actions. Pray, Raleigh call me Beaumont, while we are here. If I ever meant anything to you, you will let me have my ruse undiscovered tonight, if you do, I will be forever in your debt, and aside from accepting your marriage proposal, I shall give you whatever your heart desires.”
“Well, seeing as I was the one that brought this whole thing into being, I shan’t give you away. It is jolly good fun when you play the part of Beaumont, and take everyone’s money. Oh, if only they knew they were being bested by a woman,” he chuckled, and then sobered. ”I’ve never been able to deny you, have I?” he asked softly.
She shook her head. “Thank you, Raleigh. I am, as I said, indebted to you.”
“Not at all, not at all. May I stick around and watch the show that will come of it once your papa realizes you are besting him at his own game?”
“You may,” she said chuckling.
“Capitol,” he said, smiling brightly. He followed her gaze, as she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off Mallory. “Ah, now I understand. That is your fairy prince, isn’t it?” he asked softly, giving her a wistful stare.
She nodded her head. “Aye,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. She had to get a hold of herself. Her emotions were running riot, and she couldn’t have them command her, not at this point! She was too close to having everything that she’d ever wanted!
She gobbled Mallory up with her eyes, where he stood over by the Hazard tables, surrounded by his own group of friends. From what she could hear, they were laying friendly bets, nothing that could possibly make or break someone.
She could not see her father anywhere, though she knew that he would turn up in due course.
White’s was his favourite haunt. He loved the fact that he’d been admitted as a member, despite that fact that so many believed him to be an American. What many didn’t know was that her dear papa had been born in England to a viscount, and that he still loved the country of his birth. That’s probably why he had married her mother…he was more British than he sometimes liked to admit.
He was the youngest son, and so had been given a limited inheritance upon which he had amassed a financial empire once he adopted America as his home.
Despite all of that, his name had been put on the waiting list at White’s when he was born, and he had successfully become a member and maintained membership there for all of his adult life.
“Your Grace,” Ronald said, “I have brought you a gaming partner for tonight. My friend says that he is the best whist player this side of the Atlantic.”
“Is that so?” Mallory asked, inclining his head toward her.
Her heart raced, as he locked his brilliant blue eyes on her, and for one perilous moment, she believed he had seen past her disguise.
His friends faded away, and kept to their game. She looked away, and tried to keep herself from suffocating, she felt as if she just might faint. She had to keep it together. She couldn’t be weak, not now.
“Aye,” she managed to stammer out. She had lowered her voice, and hoped that it would convince him just as it had convinced so many men before him.
Raleigh hovered nearby, and was so close in fact, that he demanded an introduction.
“His Grace, I wager, will find in due course that you will prove yourself a worthy partner.”
“Oh, I hope so,” she murmured, still avoiding Mallory’s gaze.
“MacLeod, to whom do I have the privilege of having as my gaming partner? And who is the gentleman with him?” Mallory asked, studying her with that intent gaze of his.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, I should have made introductions before this. Might I introduce, Mister Evan Beaumont? He hails from Warwickshire, and with him is my friend, Lord Beaconsfield. Lord Beaconsfield is Bess’s cousin.”
“Indeed,” Mallory said. “I have heard about you, Lord Beaconsfield.”
“All good, I trust?” Raleigh asked.
“Indeed,” Mallory answered, enabling Elizabeth to finally release the breath she had been holding.
Thank goodness Mallory hadn’t let jealousy get the better of him when it came to Raleigh. He was acting like a proper gentlemen, and he fit into this stiff world, filled with rules of etiquette, just as easily as he fit into the relaxed world of Captain Rafe Morgan.
She hated herself for ever doubting him. Hated herself for thinking so lowly of him. He was a duke. He fit the role well—the question was, could she fit into his world as his duchess? She wasn’t so confident of that now.
“Beaumont, Beaconsfield, this is, as you both probably already realize, His Grace, the 8th Duke of Chichester.”
She remained silent, and then waited for Mallory to make the next move. “Well, there he is now.” Mallory looked as if he had just sucked an extremely sour lemon.
Elizabeth turned around, and felt her mouth go dry at the sight of her father.
“Looks as if my Uncle Geoffrey still likes his steak and kidney pies. Good God, I always forget that he’s built like a bloody bear,” Raleigh quipped. “’Course now he sort of resembles King Henry VIII in his later years, don’t you think, Beaumont?”
Elizabeth snorted, and had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, and betraying herself to everyone in the club, for she didn’t think her laughter sounded at all masculine.
Mallory had taken his leave, and looked to be intent upon confronting her father. She couldn’t let him do that…they were so close, he couldn’t blow it, not now.
Now came the moment for her to shine like a brilliant gemstone, and reclaim the only thing that truly mattered to her.
“Your Grace,” she called out.
Mallory stopped. He looked inclined to ignore her, as he had yet turned about to face her. After a few more tense moments, where she almost chewed her upper lip bloody, he turned and walked back toward her.
Ronald and Raleigh still stood by her sides, and she drew on their strengths. Had they not been there, there was no telling what her welling panic would have caused her to do. She stifled her nervousness, and wondered at the irony of it all. She was more afraid here in the safety of White’s, than she had ever been out on the perilous High Seas.
“Yes?” he said, in his deep voice. God, how she adored him. How desperately she wanted him to realize that it was he
r…that she had come to help him!
She still could not believe the way that Mallory looked and behaved. She would have never guessed that he was a sea thief, for he stood regally tall, and his manners were above reproach. For a moment or two, she found herself actually wondering if he was the man that she had fallen in love with.
“You must wager everything. I feel quite sure of victory this night, sir.”
“Confident, eh? Well, I shall take you at your word, but be forewarned, Beaumont, I shall not be a happy man if we lose everything, and you do not want to see me in high dudgeon.”
They settled themselves at a gaming table, and Elizabeth had a moment of pure panic when she was introduced to her father, who was partnered with the man he usually paid to be his partner when in England, Sir Hugo Jones.
Raucous shouts, cheers and jeers surrounded her, as other men made their bets, and either lost or won. She felt certain that he was going to recognize her, but he didn’t seem fazed in the slightest, thank heavens.
Why, he was even more of an insufferable prig than she had originally supposed. As she accepted her cards, she found herself unconsciously glancing at Mallory out of the corner of her eye. She had sorely missed being next to him. She bit down on her lower lip, and sighed.
He turned a quizzical eye on her, but said nothing. She was so intent upon studying her cards, that she did not even notice the strange way that his eyes had gazed at her. She was bound and determined to claim victory over her father.
Her father, on the other hand, believed that he truly was playing with Mallory. She yearned to whisper some words of encouragement into Mallory’s ear, but knew that then she would risk giving herself away.
Before they started playing, her father cleared his throat, “Why not add a bit of excitement to this game. Why don’t we play the game of whist that is more popular across the pond? I propose we play bid whist, and all rules for bidding shall be swept aside? What say you? Shall we just make the bids, and winner takes all, eh? Of course, Sir Hugo won’t take any of the winnings, he plays for sport, don’t you know.”
She looked over at Sir Hugo. She knew the man was either being paid by her father, or at some point in time, had made a foolish bet with the man and lost, and so was therefore relegated to being his playing partner for the foreseeable future.
His to Hold (Regency Scoundrels Book 1) Page 24
