by Anne Herries
‘Yes, but she was chased. Supposing they recognised her?’ Matt looked at him anxiously. ‘I have been anxious about that—for I am to blame. I should have asked before I took her necklace and then I could have made some arrangement with Harding over the debt.’
‘You would beggar yourself to pay a man who undoubtedly cheated you?’
‘It was my own fault for allowing him to take me to places I knew I could not afford to play.’
‘I’ve seen him cheat other young fools,’ Jack said harshly. ‘He tried it on at Watier’s once and was blackballed. As yet no one has been able to prove that he cheats, but most of us suspect it. Very few of the top hostesses invite him to their homes these days. That is why he picks up younger men and introduces them to clubs where he isn’t known for cheating and the play is not as strict.’
‘Without proof I could not accuse him,’ Matt said. ‘Had I been able I would have paid. I believed Charlie would not mind if I gave him her necklace and I intended to pay her back, but...’
‘My advice is to forget it. Others have been as foolish, it is not the end of the world.’ Jack smiled. ‘Once she is my wife I can protect her from his kind.’
Jack was thoughtful as he reflected on the future he had chosen. His offer had been made on the spur of the moment, but he’d liked the girl from the first. She had courage and a brave spirit, and he believed they would deal well together. Of course he was not madly in love with her—he did not believe in what the poets called romantic love. Passion was real, and affection—surely a combination of the two was sufficient to make marriage worthwhile.
He’d seen passion in Charlotte on several occasions and he looked forward to initiating her into the delights of making love. There was pleasure to be had for both of them in marriage and he had forgotten that he’d once thought it a prison term for life. She would not expect him to dance after her every moment, but she would be warm and willing in his arms. She was also excellent company and he had missed her while he was away.
Indeed, he could hardly wait to see her again and intended to call as soon as they reached London. He hoped that she would be at home to receive him, for he had bought her a gift, which he believed she would like.
Chapter Eight
To his disappointment, Jack discovered that Charlotte had gone out with her mama for a dressmaker’s appointment, but would return for luncheon. Smothering a slight sense of annoyance that she had not waited at home to see him, he took himself off to his club to see some friends and then called in at his London agent’s office and signed some papers.
He was congratulated by a few friends on his forthcoming marriage, but noticed a few strange looks directed his way from gentlemen with whom he was acquainted, but not particularly close. It was Phipps who finally told him that a few unkind souls were whispering that Charlotte was not all she ought to be.
‘I couldn’t get to the bottom of it, Jack,’ Phipps said. ‘Indeed, no one seems to know what she is supposed to have done, but I believe George Patterson was heard sniggering about you getting the shock of your life one of these days. It was something to do with your marriage, but that is all I know.’
‘Well, thank you for telling me. I sensed something, but I am glad to know who my enemies are. Please tell me if you hear anything more definite, Phipps.’
Damn Patterson for his impertinence! Had he dared to hint to Jack’s face, he would have gladly given him a thrashing for it.
‘Where are you going? You won’t do anything foolish?’ Phipps looked at him uncertainly. ‘Patterson and Harding...they cannot really do much harm whispering in corners, but they are both nasty devils. I wouldn’t trust either of them not to pay someone to stick a knife in your back.’
‘Thank you for the warning,’ Jack said. ‘I know what they are, my friend, but I shall not allow either of them to besmirch the name of my future wife.’
‘Certainly not. She is a dear sweet girl,’ Phipps said stoutly. ‘Call him out myself for you, if you wish.’
‘Thank you, Phipps, but I think I know the root of the trouble and I shall deal with it in my own way. However, if you have nothing better to do this evening, I should be grateful if you would bear me company. I intend to visit Lady Deakin’s gaming house.’
‘But you never play in houses like that... Ahh, I see.’ Phipps nodded as the penny dropped. ‘It is one of Harding’s haunts.’
Jack smiled unpleasantly. ‘Exactly. Lady Deakin and her cousin run a gambling club that is on the borderline of respectable. If one wished to make a scene, one would not choose one’s club or the house of a friend.’
‘I shall be delighted to join you and I’ll ask Brock if he feels like accompanying us.’
‘An excellent notion,’ Jack said. ‘I may well need a couple of witnesses.’
Phipps nodded, looked serious and then smiled. ‘It sounds as if we have an interesting evening in prospect, my friend.’
‘One would hope so,’ Jack said and glanced at his watch. ‘I must pay an afternoon call. I shall call for you this evening.’
Having parted from his friend, Jack summoned a cab and returned to the fashionable square. He was fortunate to discover that his fiancée was at home this time and was ushered into a charming sitting room, where Charlotte was sitting with an open book in her hand, though she did not appear to be reading it.
She looked up as he was announced, then got to her feet and offered him a shy smile, holding her hand out to him. Jack took and kissed it, then looked into her face, seeing the anxious expression and the shadows beneath her eyes.
‘Did you have a good journey, sir?’ she asked.
‘Tolerable,’ he murmured. ‘Please do not retreat from me, Charlotte. I have a fair idea of what you are wondering whether or not you should tell me, but there’s no need. I intend to silence Harding and his friend for good.’
‘He—he has accused me of being a thief.’ Charlotte hung her head. ‘Unless I pay what he demands, he says he will tell your grandfather that you are marrying a girl of dubious character.’
Jack swore beneath his breath. ‘He goes too far! Damn him for upsetting you this way.’
‘Perhaps I deserve it.’
‘Enough of this foolishness! The man is a cheat and a liar. Hardly anyone will receive him these days. He may be invited to some houses, but those who know of his reputation will not tolerate his company. When I have finished with him, he will wish he had—’
‘Please be careful,’ Charlotte begged. ‘If any harm came to you, I could not forgive myself.’
‘Do you think I would let a rogue like that besmirch the good name of the lady I intend to marry?’ Jack looked down into her eyes and colour flooded her cheeks.
Of course he would not want the reputation of the woman he intended to marry besmirched!
‘I—I would understand if you wished to withdraw.’
‘Do you wish me to?’
‘Of course not, but—’ Jack took hold of her by the shoulders, drew her close and kissed her soundly. His object was to cut off the flow of foolish words, but once his lips touched hers, he found himself liking the warmth, softness and the sweet taste of her breath. His kiss deepened, flaring into passion, and he was not sure how it would have ended had the door not opened to admit her brother.
‘Oh, sorry—’ Matt said lamely. ‘Didn’t think to knock... Mama sent me to say that she has ordered tea in the large parlour and will you please both join her there.’ He hesitated, then, ‘Shall I tell her I couldn’t find you?’
‘No, of course not,’ Jack said and sighed. ‘I shall not stop for tea. I came only to speak to Charlotte and to make arrangements for the theatre tomorrow evening.’
‘Mama thought you might dine with us this evening. We are entertaining a few close friends.’
‘Give my regrets to your mama,
but I have a prior engagement for this evening. I should like you to join our party for the theatre and supper tomorrow, Matt. I think you should avoid meeting certain people for a few days—and perhaps an evening in will not hurt you.’
‘I was intending to visit some friends after dinner, but they are not given to gambling and it will be just a quiet evening at their home.’
‘A perfect solution,’ Jack agreed. ‘After this evening things should be in a way to being settled.’ As Matt went away, Jack looked down at his fiancée and smiled. ‘We have some unfinished business, Charlotte, but for the moment I must leave you.’
‘You will take care? Forgive me for bringing all this bother to you, Jack.’
‘What bother?’ he drawled, his mouth slightly lifted at the corners. ‘Civilian life can be tedious when one has been accustomed to the army and campaigning, but it certainly has not been dull since I bumped into a certain urchin.’
Charlotte dimpled up at him. ‘I can only be glad that you did,’ she murmured. ‘I shall look forward to tomorrow evening, Jack.’
‘As shall I,’ Jack said and took her hand, but rather than the formal air kiss he normally bestowed on her, he turned it over and dropped a kiss in the palm. ‘Hold that for now, Charlotte. I shall reclaim it one of these days.’
Leaving her standing there, Jack walked from the house and across the pretty greens that separated her house from his own. He was frowning as he thought of the trap that he intended to set for Harding that evening. What he’d intended at the start was to complete the rogue’s ruin, but now he wondered if it might not be better to silence the man’s vicious tongue for good.
Jack was an excellent shot and a skilled swordsman. Harding was said to be a decent shot and would no doubt choose pistols if given the choice. It was easier to severely wound a man with a sword while still not ending his life, but a ball through the head or the heart would finish him. Duelling was frowned on, though seldom punished—unless a death occurred. It would not suit Jack to be forced to flee the country, even for a few months, but if it was the only way to bring Harding down...
Yet perhaps he was letting his anger rule him. He must keep cool and see what chances the evening brought.
* * *
‘The man is a cheat and a liar,’ Brock said when apprised of Jack’s intentions. ‘I know of at least one young man who took his own life after being ruined by Harding and his cronies. I should be delighted to call him out for you, old fellow.’
‘I know of no braver soldier and your skill with the sword is unparalleled,’ Jack murmured and grinned, ‘but with pistols at fifteen paces I doubt you could hit him.’
Brock’s eyebrows rose. ‘Are you calling me a poor shot?’
‘With a rifle you are excellent, but pistols? I think you should leave them to me, don’t you?’
‘Perhaps, but if I killed him and had to make a run for it, I should merely spend the next few months in France enjoying myself, whilst you would be frustrated and impatient to return.’
‘I’m better than either of you with the pistols,’ Phipps claimed extravagantly. ‘I should be the one to call him a cheat.’
His friends laughed and mocked him, for they all knew that he could not shoot a pistol half as well as either of them, but he was a devil with the sword and had been a crack shot with a rifle. Phipps was also deadly with a knife, which he threw faster than most men could shoot and his skill had been useful at times against the enemy in Spain, when sometimes you could not be sure who was your friend and who your enemy.
‘It is my problem and I’ll do the accusing,’ Jack said in a tone that allowed no argument. ‘What I require of you is that you bear witness to what happens.’
‘That is if Harding is obliging enough to visit Lady D.’s house,’ Phipps said. ‘One never knows where the fellow might be.’
‘I was informed he would be there this evening,’ Jack said. ‘And if my information is correct, he needs to win rather urgently, because he is badly dipped.’
‘Close to ruin,’ Brock said. ‘He has run through the fortune his cousin left him in a matter of years. The man has expensive tastes.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Jack agreed. ‘We must hope that he is just desperate enough to risk cheating this evening.’
* * *
Jack saw his quarry the moment they entered the gambling club. Harding was sitting at a table with three hardened gamblers and drinking heavily. Glancing round the thronged rooms, Jack noted that most of the guests were the worst of the scum that hung around at the edge of society, preying on young men who had money to burn, men of little reputation and small fortune. It looked as if there was little prey for Harding and his friends that evening.
Perhaps that was the reason that when they sat down at a table near a window and called for wine and a new pack of cards, it took only a few minutes before Harding rose and came across to them, followed by Patterson.
‘Good evening, gentlemen,’ he said, glancing at Jack from beneath hooded lids. ‘I do not think I’ve seen you here before.’
‘We’re out for a laugh,’ Phipps said and slurred his words slightly, as if he’d had a little too much to drink. ‘Where is that damned waiter? Can a man not get a drink in this place?’
‘Allow me, I am known here,’ Harding said pompously and signalled to the waiter who came at once. ‘Wine for my friends—bring a bottle of the best claret and one of burgundy for starters. You will allow me to join you, gentlemen?’
‘Why not?’ Brock asked. ‘I’m celebrating. Won a packet at Newmarket, fifty-to-one odds and I had a hundred on it.’
‘You must have the luck of the devil,’ Harding said and looked a bit sick, almost as if he was wondering whether he’d chosen the wrong pigeons to pluck.
‘Only with the horses,’ Brock said. ‘I have the devil’s own luck at the cards, but I’m determined to come about...’
‘Well, I should be delighted to oblige you. What stakes will you play, gentlemen?’
‘Oh, a hundred guineas a game and a side stake of another fifty for each trick,’ Brock said. ‘No good playing for peanuts.’
‘I couldn’t agree more,’ Harding replied jovially. ‘What about you others?’
Patterson and Phipps agreed to the terms, but Jack shook his head and stood up. ‘I’ve seen someone I wish to speak to,’ he claimed. ‘I’ll join you later.’
Harding frowned as he walked across the room and spoke to one of the waiters, but Brock was opening the new pack of cards and his attention was drawn from Jack, who had left the room. When he returned the game was already begun and Jack paused by the E.O. table to place a counter on the table. He stayed there for some time, losing most of the time, but betting constantly on red, while keeping an eye on the card table.
His friends seemed to be holding their own. Phipps had won three hands, Brock one, Patterson one and Harding was losing steadily. Jack moved about the crowded room, speaking briefly with men he knew slightly, and hazarding a few bets at Faro, then, as he saw that Brock had lost again, while Phipps and Patterson had gone out, he wandered back towards them. Standing behind Brock and watching the play with narrowed eyes, he noted each card that his friend discarded, also those that the other two players had thrown in, memorising each one.
Gradually, Harding was accumulating a large amount of gold on the table before him and Jack began to see the pattern of his play. If Patterson stayed in, Harding folded early, but now Patterson was going out early every time, as was Phipps, and Harding was winning every hand. Brock was going down to the tune of two thousand or more.
He threw down his hand at the end of the fourth consecutive winning hand and reached towards the pot, the shock on his face complete as Jack’s hand snaked out and caught his arm.
‘What are you doing?’ he demanded, his colour rising.
‘Just thi
s...’ Jack said and removed the ace of spades from the cuff of his coat sleeve. ‘I saw you tuck this away when you took your last card and then discarded. You knew that with the ace removed from the game no one else could beat your hand.’
‘Liar!’ Harding blustered. ‘How could I have hidden it? I’m sure Patterson discarded that card earlier, didn’t you?’ He looked demandingly at his crony, but Patterson had gone white and did not answer him. ‘You planted this on me, Delsey. It was all a plot to trap me!’
‘You are a cheat and a liar,’ Jack said calmly. ‘You were blackballed at the Nonesuch. White’s will not admit you and I shall make it my business to see that no decent house will accept you.’
‘Jack couldn’t have planted that card,’ Phipps said, ‘I discarded it earlier and Patterson picked it up and then discarded it himself. I noticed the corner was nicked—you can see it...’ He leaned forward and flicked through the discarded cards, revealing that there was no other ace of spades. However, the one that Jack had pulled from Harding’s cuff was indeed spoiled. ‘I had folded, but I intended to call for a fresh pack before we continued...’
‘Damn you!’ Harding was on his feet, his neck red with rage. ‘I am not a cheat—and I demand satisfaction. Patterson, tell them that card did not come from me!’
‘I saw Delsey take it from your sleeve,’ Patterson said and swallowed hard. ‘You took two thousand off me last week. I wondered why your luck had suddenly changed.’
‘You rotten swine,’ Brock said. ‘You’ve cheated me all evening!’ He rose to his full six-foot-two height and glowered down at the man, whose neck resembled the shade of a boiled beetroot.
‘Damn you—and you, Delsey. You will meet me for this!’
‘Delighted,’ Jack murmured smoothly. ‘Name your seconds.’
Harding stared at him furiously, a dark red tide sweeping up his neck and into his cheeks. His eyes goggled, he gave a queer strangled sound and his mouth worked, but no sound came out. His face seemed to fall on one side and then he seemed to buckle at the knees before falling back and crashing into his chair, which went flying. He lay on the floor jerking for a while and one of the waiters came rushing over to see what was happening. He knelt beside the fallen man, loosening his neckcloth.
