A Gallant Gamble (Unrivalled Regency Book 3)

by Williams, Jackie

  “Call for my horse!” He yelled as he dragged the garment over his head.

  Coalport looked stunned but moved forwards to help Geoffrey as he winced and struggled to pull his shirt on.

  “You cannot possibly ride in your condition. Have you seen the bruising to your side? Dear God! You’ll kill yourself if you attempt to mount a horse. I forbid you to be so foolhardy! I will call master Callum to prepare the carriage for your journey and with your bruised ribs I would strongly suggest that you use it.”

  Geoffrey shoved his feet into his boots.

  “Rookwood is up to something. He danced with Charlotte the night I signed the register of entries for Lord Davenport’s race. I know he threatened her! That’s why we argued and she fell. He was at the inn with those women too. Call for Callum now. I will be leaving immediately!” Terror made him shout.

  “Oh no you won’t!” Coalport leapt in front of the door and stopped him running from the room. “You won’t get past the front gates of Davenport’s place looking like a vagabond. It will take less than ten minutes to have you looking like the gentleman that you are. Young Callum will take that long to hitch the horses anyway so you can stop chasing about and set yourself to order.” He lifted the crisp cravat that lay over his arm.

  Geoffrey almost argued with the man before he realized that Coalport was probably right. No one would let him into the estate if he looked like a vagrant who had recently been in a brawl. He waited impatiently while Coalport worked his magic.

  “You are right, of course and if Charlotte is with Giles and Alexander, she should be in no immediate danger.” He attempted to convince himself more than his valet who worked with deft fingers about his neck. “Lord Rookwood could have had another reason for being in the inn that night.” Kidding himself only sent fear racing back into his stomach. He’d been set up and he knew it. It might have been just luck that made him walk into that particular inn, but someone had known him and Rookwood had soon been summoned. There was more to this than met the eye and he was determined to find out exactly what it was.

  Minutes later he grabbed the coat Coalport held out to him. He calmed his heart as he eased himself into the snug garment before he strode towards the door as images of Rookwood’s gloating, evil face swamped him. The man had been in the inn the whole evening of his downfall. In his heart he knew that the depraved scoundrel had arranged for brandy to be drugged, the women to lure him into a private setting and for the men to give him a beating. Rookwood was so desperate that he had to take other competitors out of the equation to have any hope of winning Lord Davenport’s steeplechase on the unpredictable Vanquish.

  But even that wasn’t what worried Geoffrey the most now, and his stomach plunged even further at the mere thought of what Charlotte might do.

  Might do? Whom was he kidding? He knew full well how much Charlotte loved riding and throwing herself at challenges. Mixing the two would be almost impossible for her to resist especially as it would be helping their growing business, and as much as he hoped they would, he wasn’t sure that he could rely on her cousin, Giles, or Alexander to hold her back. She had the pair of them wrapped around her little finger and they could barely refuse her anything.

  Callum met him at the front door a few moments later and he climbed awkwardly into the carriage. His ribs felt as though they were about to spear his lungs as he sat down against the squabs and he pressed his hand against his bandaged side. He cursed Rookwood and his gang and would have enjoyed planning some revenge if his mind hadn’t been consumed with his visions of Charlotte being forced from the course or worse, falling from Lightning as they jumped over the huge fences that Lord Davenport routinely used in his annual event.

  He hoped that she wouldn’t be so foolhardy as to enter, but in his heart he knew that she would try. Surely Davenport had some rules governing the entrants in the race! He prayed that it was so. He had put his own name down as Lightning’s rider but couldn’t presume that would be enough to exclude her.

  He stared out of the window and cursed the press of carriages on the road, wondering where it was all coming from, or going to on such a day. It took him a few seconds to realize that most were probably en-route to Lord Davenport’s country estate to watch the race too.

  Charlotte glanced at the church clock for what felt like the fiftieth time that morning. She didn’t have much time left, but the Prince still had a firm grip on her arm as he talked about his hopes for the coming race.

  “I offer you my congratulations on your recent nuptials, my dear. Though I had not heard anything of your relationship beforehand, I believe you have made an excellent choice. Of course, your husband turned down the honour to ride in my name, but I feel I have to forgive him. If he had not I would have had to withdraw Vanquish from the race. As you probably know, my dear, once Lord Davenport’s register of entries has been signed there can be no changes to the field. Fortunately I secured Colin Rookwood as his replacement, though ‘tis a pity that your husband won’t be taking part at all. I hear that a few people had been placing bets on him winning. Foolhardy in the extreme, seeing that Vanquish is clearly the better horse.” He paused and then coughed delicately before lowering his lips to her ear. “I heard that you were almost overcome with emotion last night at the thought of all your losses, but I understand that you can cover yourself with that fabulous jewel.”

  Charlotte’s heart pounded wildly as she smiled stiffly.

  “Yes, I did feel a little deflated when I discovered the rule about the horses and riders only yesterday when we arrived, but it is of no consequence.”

  The memory of the previous evening was not pleasant.

  Several people had wished her sympathy when she had insisted on seeing Geoffrey’s signature after discovering that there could be no change to either horses or riders. She had stared at the book for long moments, willing Geoffrey’s signature to disappear before her eyes, but his bold print had stayed firmly in place.

  ‘Lightning’ - ‘G. Talbot’ glared up from the page. A tear dripped from her eye and she blotted her handkerchief over the page before she lifted her chin in a show of bravado that she didn’t feel as others moved back, embarrassed by her show of emotion.

  She had closed the book quickly and swept from Lord Davenport’s salon, her brimming eyes fixed firmly on the wide staircase. She had taken a glass of lemonade and a plate of sandwiches from the buffet before she bid Giles, Alexander and Olivia a quick goodnight and hurried to her room as she turned her thoughts to how many wagers she had agreed to. Her heart lurched. There were too many to give up and do nothing.

  She had raced into her bedroom, placed the plate of food and the drink on her bedside table, and rushed towards the fireplace.

  She looked out over the racecourse before she glanced up at the church clock yet again.

  “As soon as the jewel is sold, any amounts due will be forthcoming, though I confess that I had assumed there would be leniency considering the nature of Mr. Talbot’s withdrawal from the contest. I confess that I am young and hadn’t realized the intricacies involved. As compassion isn’t forthcoming I admit that I am sorry for my hasty wagers upon the outcome of the race. I might have acted differently if I had known that my husband’s injuries were so bad and that I couldn’t substitute a rider, however I am only too glad that my Geoffrey will recover from his recent accident sooner than we had at first feared. We will pull through this small inconvenience soon enough.” She gritted her teeth and held back a snarl of rage as she wondered if the Prince had anything to do with Geoffrey’s downfall. It hardly seemed likely; the man had complete confidence in his own horse even if she and Geoffrey didn’t, but she wondered all the same.

  The Prince suddenly appeared bored at the turn of conversation. He looked over the crowd and let his gaze land on a woman wearing a gown cut so low that Charlotte feared for the woman’s reputation. The Prince let go of her arm.

  “My dear, I am glad to hear of his continued recovery, but you must ex
cuse me. I have only this minute noticed Lady Warrender.” He gave her a quick bow of his head and strode towards the exposed woman.

  Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. She peered around quickly and noting that Giles and Alexander had struck up conversation with Charles Latham, she ducked into the crowd. She skirted the lawns and ran across the terrace at the back of Lord Davenport’s house. The clock on the church tower struck the half hour and she jumped as she listened to the three solid chimes.

  Running through the house deserted by all its occupants, who now promenaded about the lawns, turned out to be easier than she had dared hope. She avoided the one or two servants not engaged in serving out refreshments and lifted her skirts as she raced up the marble staircase towards her room on the first floor. Though she was quick, she didn’t have any time to spare and she charged through the door, tearing at the buttons on her dress even before it was closed behind her.

  After leaving St. George Street, Geoffrey eventually found himself waiting in the long queue of carriages leading to the front of a house that appeared to be only marginally smaller than Ormond. Geoffrey looked up at the huge edifice as he stepped down the carriage steps and up into the house. He took a glass of champagne from the butler as he walked through the rooms until he stood in the ballroom overlooking the crowded gardens. He scanned the amassing crowd hoping to see blonde curls bobbing beneath a pretty bonnet, but he recognized no one until Charles Latham caught his elbow some ten minutes later.

  “If you are looking for the Duke and his friend Lord Caithwell, they are situated near the Prince on the grand terrace.”

  Geoffrey nodded gratefully but kept close to the young Lord’s side as they walked between the ladies and gentlemen drinking champagne on the rear lawn of the mansion.

  “And Charlotte, have you seen anything of her?” He queried as they reached a quieter spot.

  Latham nodded.

  “She was talking to the Prince half an hour ago. Even though you didn’t accept his offer to ride Vanquish, I think that he has taken a shine to your wife, though I daresay that she’s taking her place amongst the crowd now. The race is about to begin.” Latham beckoned him to follow as he headed off towards the grand terrace.

  Geoffrey followed on behind him. Although he was relieved to know that Charlotte was safely away from the stables and horses, he wasn’t happy for her to be left at the mercies of the Prince either. The man’s lecherous tendencies were well known about town.

  “He may be the Prince, but if he makes a play for my wife I’ll plant him a facer just the same as I would any other man,” he muttered to no one in particular as they passed the paddock where the riders gathered on their mounts.

  They pushed their way through another throng of people and climbed the staged seating that Lord Davenport had arranged to give the best view of the final fence and the winning line. Geoffrey stopped and caught his breath as his ribs reminded him of his fragile state, and was momentarily thrilled to see both Alexander and Giles coming down the steps towards him, but then he remembered that he hadn’t see Alexander for some weeks nor Giles since he had run from Charlotte after their wedding. His smile slipped from his face as he dreaded what they might say to him.

  Alexander reached him first and passersby raised their eyebrows as the Duke of Ormond walked forwards, took hold of Geoffrey’s shoulders and pulled him into a welcoming hug. He slapped Geoffrey on the back, knocking the wind out of him and setting his ribs on fire once again.

  “Congratulations! It is the best news...and I don’t mean getting yourself beaten up and nearly killed, but marrying Charlotte, of course. Our plan couldn’t have worked better if we had tried.” Genuine pleasure rang through his words as he moved back and winked at Geoffrey. “Little surprised about you leaping on her at Davenport’s ball, but whatever takes your fancy. The outcome was the same either way.”

  Geoffrey frowned.

  “Plan? What plan?” He looked suspiciously at Giles who stood there grinning back at him.

  “The plan to make you admit your feelings and pluck up the courage to offer for my cousin. Not that I expected you to damn near ruin her, mind. You could have been a little more discreet about the whole affair, but apart from that, I am more than pleased at the outcome.” Giles pulled Geoffrey into another rib aching hug. “Glad to see you up and about again. You had us worried for a couple of days but Charlotte’s attention soon won you round. She’s barely left your side for five whole days and nights. She’s already taking her role as your wife seriously. Can’t say that I am surprised. The way you two have been looking mooneyes at each other while doing your best to avoid one another, has been almost painful to watch. We had to do something to put you both out of your misery.”

  Geoffrey stared incredulously between the two of them. They had planned the whole thing...the trip, the new clothes, the balls, the never-ending dinners; anything to bring him and Charlotte into one another’s company. He pressed his lips together and drew in a breath through his nose as he realized how he had been played. He wasn’t sure if he should be delighted or angry at their plotting. Though he had never expected to become Charlotte’s husband, it had been one of his dearest wishes and now that his best friends appeared to be of the same mind his future looked almost perfect.

  Alexander’s and Giles’ grins hadn’t faded and suddenly Charles Latham was hanging on to his shoulder and laughing at his side.

  “Come on, man; lighten up. We all know that you wanted this to happen. You should have seen your face at that first ball. Charlotte was dancing with Tollesbury, if I remember rightly. You looked as though you were either about to spit nails or run the poor man through. I realized immediately what you were feeling and when Charlotte came back to you, her expression said it all. She was positively alive with delight at seeing you.” Latham nudged him in the side with his elbow.

  Geoffrey winced painfully, but then managed to turn it into a smile. He glanced back at Giles and Alexander. The two men were looking extraordinarily pleased with themselves and he could disguise his own delight no longer. He was so happy that he couldn’t hold anything against them. Though they had manipulated him, he thought he had the best of the bargain. He huffed out another breath.

  “Fine, so you have two have had a good laugh at my expense, but I think I have the better deal even though you have beset me with difficulties from the day I agreed to come here.” He sighed a little despondently. “I haven’t the first idea of where Charlotte and I will live when we return to Ormond. It’s not as though a Lady can live above a stable, and I am still not comfortable about moving into the castle.” He paced uncomfortably.

  Giles’ smile turned into a puzzled frown.

  “What are you talking about? You’ll have White Briars, of course. It’s not huge but it will be a splendid place to start with. Why on earth wouldn’t you want to live there?”

  Geoffrey looked just as puzzled back.

  “But that’s your home. I know that you live at Caithwell now, but White Briars belonged to you long before that. I can’t imagine why you would think that Charlotte and I would live there.”

  Giles shook his head as he smiled again.

  “You two really haven’t talked yet, have you? White Briar’s is Charlotte’s. I made the estate over to her as soon as I knew Caithwell was mine. White Briars has never been entailed, so I could pass it over to whomever I liked and, in view of the previous terrible predicament Charlotte’s family left her in, I made it over to her almost immediately. It was to be her bolt hole if she ever had the need of her independence.”

  Geoffrey frowned and shook his head.

  “Then it is hers, not mine. Should she ever have the need, it must remain specifically for that purpose.” His heart splintered at the thought of her ever having to use it and his thoughts must have showed on his face because Giles smiled benevolently at him while Alexander took hold of Geoffrey’s arm.

  “But you haven’t realized, have you. It’s yours, Geoff. Everything owned
by a wife is her husband’s property as soon as they wed. White Briars is yours to do with as you please.” He held up his hand as Geoffrey began to protest. “It’s the law, Geoff. I know that you would never see Charlotte out of the place, but there is nothing you can do about the law of the land. White Briars became yours by right of marriage. I hope it won’t ever come to it, but if the situation should ever arise, you can always take up your rooms at Ormond.”

  Giles raised an eyebrow at him.

  “And after all the work I put into the place for the last few years, I will be pretty damned irritated if you let it go to rack and ruin. Charlotte and I have spoken about it and she agrees, so you had best assent to living there before I become annoyed.”

  Geoffrey stood stunned as his mind began to work in circles.

  “She agrees?” he waited for Giles’ confirming nod before continuing. “But that means, that means...Good heavens! That means I have land, and the possibility of an independent income. We can expand the business far more quickly if we have more stabling and facilities.” His thoughts ran to the woman he loved more than he could ever express. “I must find Charlotte and hope that she shares in my delight at the prospect.” He paused for a moment, reining in his enthusiasm. He had to speak to his wife. Even though he remembered her calling out that she loved him, they hadn’t discussed anything further. He knew that regardless of what Giles had told him or of any law that passed all her assets to him, if she didn’t want to be with him, then he would not press her. He had to speak to her. He had to confirm what he hoped to be true. That she loved him without conditions.

  He spun around and scanned the crowd, desperate to spy her blonde curls. A knot of people had gathered around the Prince. The man preened in front of his audience, but Charlotte was not among them. Panic gripped him as the Prince stood back, waved his white handkerchief and, amid cheers and the snorts of impatient animals, the race thundered off. He turned back to Giles.