by Jo Goodman
"You would like to believe that is so, for it would do much to ease your conscience, but it happened with Newbrough also. And it matters not who the man is, because it is your face I see when I am touched. Your nerve is only surpassed by your conceit. You are the only man who has ever made me his whore. Make what you like of that!"
"Red." It was only a whisper of sound, achingly soft and imploring, filled with regret.
Rae felt as if her heart lodged in her throat and she could scarcely breathe. "I never intended to tell you these things in this manner; they would have been better left unsaid, but when you believed I could actually enjoy the role of Nigel's mistress I became undone. Forget what I have told you, for there is nothing that can be changed. Come, we must go back to the ballroom, for we have tarried overlong. And know this last thing: The duke has asked me to watch your cards. He is undecided if he shall allow you to win the notes or whether he will choose to ruin Newbrough himself."
Rae turned on her heel and began to leave, but Jericho caught her arm. "I care naught for any of it, Red."
Rae shook off his hand. "You must care. Stanhope could be yours by the end of the week."
"And you?"
Her smile held no warmth. "Me? At week's end I can be anyone's."
With that enigmatic response hovering between them, Rae led Jericho back to the ballroom. Nigel met her at the door and escorted her onto the floor as the musicians struck up the first dance.
"I never thought to ask if you could dance," the duke said to her as he led her through the intricate patterns of a country dance. "But I can see you are quite good." After the first few bars of music other couples took their place on the floor, and soon the ballroom was filled with an arresting array of color moving in splendid orchestration.
"A shade out of practice, your grace, for there has not been much cause for dancing in my country of late."
The duke nodded. "Did Adams find the library satisfactory?"
Rahab had no idea if Jericho had even given the matter any thought, but she said that all was to his liking.
"What do you think of the man?"
"My opinion matters?"
"More than you know," Nigel said with a certain gentleness.
Rae nearly lost her step, so startled was she by the duke's tone. She looked at him warily.
"Come, do not be so shocked. Surely you must know that I find much to admire about you. It grieves me only that you are a McClellan and completely unworthy of my attentions."
"And completely unwanting of your attentions." Nigel laughed, and heads turned at the sound. "Be careful, your grace, for your guests are bound to think you are enjoying yourself."
"I find that I am, my dear, for you are playing your role to perfection. Might I hope that by Friday you will reconsider the letter?"
Rae blanched at his cruel reminder of the hunt, and this time her steps did falter noticeably. She recovered, but thereafter her movements were stiff rather than graceful. "Damn you," she swore under her breath while smiling pleasantly beneath Nigel's sharp gaze.
"Tell me about Adams," the duke said, as if he had not heard her.
"La! What do I know of the man's character? He seems a serious sort, and rather remote. I should think you are well matched. And might I say I hope he trounces you?"
"But he won't, will he?" Nigel asked smoothly. "I have you to see to that. I want you to put the man at his ease. Anything short of shaming me in order to make him feel comfortable in your presence."
Rae did not answer as Jericho came toward them to claim the next dance. Under the duke's watchful eye she smiled in welcome and allowed herself to be led into the new steps as the music started.
"It is quite a crush, is it not?" she said, her smile firmly in place.
"Yes. I had not known the duke would invite so many people."
"By the accounts of the duke's previous entertainments, this is a small gathering. I understand they all will not stay for the entire week."
"That is a relief."
"Yes. I hear that by Friday only the most jaded will still be in attendance. Does that include you?"
"My invitation is for the entire week."
"I feel in need of some refreshment, my lord."
Still puzzling over Rae's distancing conversation, Jericho led her off the floor. After they each had a glass of champagne, he dutifully followed her to a less crowded corner of the ballroom where they could sit in plain view of the guests, but with less danger of their conversation being overheard.
"Nigel has asked me to be pleasant to you," she explained. "So pretend that you are quite enamored of my conversation."
"I assure you, I am."
Rae laughed gaily. "You ought to be, for your life may well depend upon it." It was odd to see Jericho smiling genially, chuckling occasionally, as she explained about the documents in Nigel's family Bible, but he managed to give nothing away as she told him the whole of it. "I dare not spend another moment with you now, or there will be talk."
"By all means, Miss McClellan, see to your other guests," Jericho said, coming to his feet.
Rae circulated among the duke's friends, frustrated that she could not explain everything at once to Jericho, and equally determined not to let it show. Several times she caught sight of him deep in discussion with the duke and wondered what they could possibly be talking about. She also saw he adroitly managed to avoid any introduction to the Earl of Stanhope, which she was sure must be sending Newbrough into fits. Rae was never lacking for partners, and she became adept at turning the conversation away from herself, finding all manner of innocuous subjects to discuss with the men who plagued her for her personal history. But the playacting took its toll, and by the time the guests were called for the late supper she felt as if her nerves were a veritable Gordian knot. She ate little of the repast, though she made a show of moving the delicacies about on her plate. Her conversation was divided equally between Lord Lesley on her left and Lord Evans on her right, who both declared they were much put out with Nigel for keeping her existence a secret from them. Though the tone and manner of each was deferential, Rae wondered frankly if they expected the duke to share.
At supper's end most of the guests returned to the ballroom, but others were shown to the music room or the study where tables had been set up for cards. A select few accompanied the duke to his library, and Rae found herself once more at Jericho's side, having no idea how she would survive this evening.
The playing table was set up in the near center of the room, and eight wing chairs had been arranged for the spectators equidistant from the table. Jericho had declined to have any one of his acquaintance attend the match, and Rahab was the only woman in attendance. Rae chose a chair at Jericho's back and to one side, so that if she stood up on occasion, and if he permitted carelessness, she would see his cards. Charles Newbrough took up a similar position on the duke's side, and the others fell in between. A fresh full deck of cards sat untouched between the players, and a footman in new livery served drinks with the rectitude the situation required.
"Before I outline the rules of play as we have discussed them," the duke said, leaning casually in his chair, "I wonder if you would share with us the reasons you have gone to such lengths to secure Newbrough's notes."
"Can it make any difference to the play?" Jericho asked easily, as if he had anticipated the question.
"No."
"Then it will remain my affair. But you mistake that it has been a troublesome thing," he added, looking directly at Newbrough. "It has given me naught but pleasure."
Rahab held her breath, half-expecting that the earl would call Jericho out on the spot. He did nothing, however, except to give Jericho the fullest measure of his beady stare. Jericho seemed not the least perturbed, while Nigel nodded as if he understood.
"Then let us begin," the duke said. "First, for the benefit of our audience, let me outline the play. The game will be two-handed whist, each player receiving thirteen cards. After each trick we wi
ll both draw one card from the stock until it is exhausted; then we will play out our hands. Lesley will be keeping score as well as providing fresh cards. Rather than make unlimited wagers and perhaps end our... pleasure in one night, Adams and I agree that each point will be worth ten pounds until Friday, when each point will be worth one hundred pounds. The winner of the entire match is the one possessing all of Newbrough's notes, and only the notes are good for this wager. Since I begin with but two thousand pounds, and Adams has considerably more, it is conceivable, though unlikely"—here the duke shot Jericho an amused glance—"that I could lose it all in the first two nights of play. Either of us may call a halt to the play for the evening at the end of any single game, and there will be a break every fourth game that may last not above thirty minutes." The duke looked around, glancing back at Newbrough, then at Jericho. "Have I explained it to your satisfaction?"
"Yes."
"Very well. Let us begin. We will draw for the deal, Ace high." He waved a hand at Jericho to draw first. Jericho lifted about one-third of the deck and showed everyone the bottom card, a jack. The duke drew a seven and Jericho swept up the cards and began shuffling. He dealt their hands smoothly, one card at a time, and placed the remaining cards in the middle of the table, but not where they would interfere with the taking of the tricks.
Both men were highly skilled players, and neither dallied overlong determining which card would be laid out. The winner of each trick collected it in a single sweeping motion, and Rae understood at last how the game derived its name as the cards were whisked from the table. Rae concentrated on the game and waited for some sign from Nigel that she was supposed to signal Jericho's cards, but it never came. She surmised that at present he did not require any assistance, because when the first break was called he had added L400 to his coffer.
Rae excused herself from the library at the beginning of the break and wandered back into the ballroom to watch the dancers. There was an enormous amount of gaiety in this room compared to the other, and she wished she might find a reason not to return to the library. Even as she thought it she saw Nigel approaching her and knew she must go back.
"My dear, you must remember not to fidget with your necklace," he said to her when they were alone in the hallway. "It is most disconcerting."
Rae's hand dropped abruptly from her throat as she realized she was guilty of the absent movement as they talked. "I'm sorry... I had not realized. Was I doing it before?"
"Incessantly."
"Oh. But you won anyway."
Nigel looked pleased. "Yes, I did. However, I would rather you did not toy with that thing. I may have need of you yet."
But he did not look to her once during the second set of games, even though Rae sat with her hands folded in her lap and Jericho proceeded to win back L300. Rae felt as if she were a single exposed nerve, though she knew she looked the picture of calm reserve. Indeed, upon glancing about the room she saw that there was only one person who appeared at all affected by the tension of the game and that was Newbrough.
The earl never allowed the obsequious footman to pass without relieving the man's silver tray of one glass of spirits.
The clock on the mantelpiece had already struck one when Jericho announced an end to the evening's play. Rahab sighed thankfully, for which she received a glaring look from the duke and an amused chuckle from his opponent.
"It would seem our hostess is ready to retire," Jericho said pleasantly, gathering the well-thumbed cards and shuffling them dly. He glanced over his shoulder. "My apologies, Miss McClellan, for keeping you this long."
Embarrassed by her show of tiredness, Rae flushed. "If you gentlemen will excuse me," she said, coming to her feet and motioning them to remain seated. "I bid you good night." It was not until she reached her room that she realized she had not heard Lesley announce the evening's final tally, though she suspected Jericho had got the better of the duke.
As she readied for bed she could still hear the melodic strains of the violins from below and she wondered if the dancing would go on until dawn and if the duke seriously expected her to stay up until the last of the guests had retired. She had just slipped into bed when she heard the key turn in her door and knew the duke was locking her in for the evening. A few minutes later he entered her room from the connecting door to his own chamber.
Rae pulled the covers up to her neck as she sat up in bed. Nigel carried a single candle and the light flickered across the taut planes of his face. He stood in the doorway for some moments, studying Rae's protective posture as if it puzzled lim. "I merely came to thank you for being so charming to my guests this evening. I have no designs on your body. Mayhap you wish it were otherwise?"
A small shudder made Rae tremble. "No."
Nigel frowned. "You've made it quite clear. Again. Then you will not be jealous if I seek pleasure elsewhere this evening."
"Hardly."
"I've locked your door so that others might not suspect you are fair game."
"How considerate of you."
"I only wish to heighten the anticipation of Friday's hunt, m'dear. For my guests... and for you."
"Leave me."
"On this occasion I will bow to your wishes. Tomorrow evening wear the silver gown. It will go well with the necklace. And be prepared to make use of it. I am not going to let Adams take me on the second day of play." With that he withdrew from the room, leaving Rae more awake than she had been in some hours. After tossing and turning, thumping her pillow and twisting her covers into complete disorder, sheer exhaustion overcame her.
Jericho stood over Rae's sleeping form for long minutes before he came to a final decision and deposited the key to her door in his waistcoat pocket. Carefully, so as not to have her awake screaming, he lowered his hand over her mouth and whispered her name in her ear.
Rae's eyes flew open, and unable to make out the shadowed figure hovering over her, prepared to put her vocal cords to a true test. Her eyes widened as she tried to draw in a healthy breath of air and found herself nearly suffocated in the process.
"Rae! It's Jericho!"
But she already had her teeth sinking into the soft flesh of his hand before the words registered, and now Jericho had to stifle his own cry of surprise and pain.
"Jericho?" Her question was muffled, owing to the fact that she held a ridge of skin between her teeth.
"Yes. Let go, will you?"
Rae released him, and as her eyes adjusted to the room's poor firelight she saw him massage his sore hand. "Are you mad? What are you doing here?"
"Probably," he answered her first question, sitting on the edge of the bed as Rae raised herself on her elbows. "And I've come to talk to you. Please don't send me away."
"I cannot even credit you are here."
"I'm real enough, Red." Tentatively he touched the palm of her hand where it lay open at her side, heartened that she did not pull away from him. "May I stay?"
"To talk?" she asked uneasily, feeling as if his touch was burning her hand. She willed her insides to cease their roiling.
"Yes. Only that. My word on it."
"How did you come to be here?"
Jericho let out his indrawn breath slowly, taking her response to mean he could remain. "My valet stole Stephens's key from the rack belowstairs and replaced it with a similar one."
"Your valet?"
"Drew Goodfellow, the tinker."
"You brought him here as your valet? Isn't someone likely to recognize him?"
"He's a different man in his livery. I doubt you would know him. But I did not come here to discuss Drew, though he sends his regards."
Rae smiled weakly. "Return my own."
"Depend upon it." He hesitated, searching for the right words, wondering what had happened to the speech he had rehearsed once he had discovered the duke was spending the night in another's bed. The fingers that lay in Rahab's palm trembled. "Red, I'm sorry. If I could undo my cruel treatment of you, believe that I would."
"I be
lieve you," she said quietly. "If you recall, you mocked me when I said you would come to regret it."
"I said so many things that afternoon that I did not mean," he whispered. "I only meant to convince you that you should not come here."
"It was more than that, Jericho. You wanted to control me."
"I wanted to protect you!"
"It is an odd sort of method you chose, to hurt and degrade me, to use me against my will so that I might experience helplessness at your hands. If you came here to be forgiven, Jericho, then know that you are. But if you are asking for more, if by chance you are asking me to forget, then I can only say I have not yet forgotten, nor can I say if I ever will."
For all that her words were gently spoken and lacking in malice, they tore into Jericho as lashes across his naked flesh. "Just say that you will not leave me, Red. Don't put me from your life when we are safe from this place. I want to make amends."
"For me or for yourself?"
"For both of us."
Rae's thoughts drifted to the child they had made and her answer was less for herself and Jericho than it was for the life within her. "I will not leave you. You should know that I had already decided to leave Linfield before Nigel discovered my identity."
"You were coming to me?"
There was an incredulous sort of happiness in Jericho's voice that Rae knew would vanish when she explained the reason. She found herself curiously loath to tell him of their babe. "Yes. I was coming to you."
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "I thank you for telling me that. It is something to hold in my heart."
She almost told him then but held her tongue, wishing, she supposed, that the babe had not made her decision and that she might have gone to him not out of necessity but because it was the wisest choice. "I don't know if I can stand it," she said quietly, "but if I can, would you hold me?"
"Of course."
Rae pushed herself up from her elbows and waited for Jericho to take her in his arms. When he did not she realized with some shock that he was afraid. Well, he was not the only one afraid, and if the truth be told, not the only one who had said things in order to hurt. "I lied about seeing your face when the duke touches me. I did it to—to—"
