by Rakes Reward
Marina did not look at him or acknowledge his presence in any way. Kit was not really surprised, but the devil in him decided that she should not be permitted to ignore him. He would make her do or say something, even if it was only to tell him to mind his business. It would be good to see the fire in her eyes again.
Lady Blaine had broken a fresh pack and was shuffling it rather absently; all her attention seemed to be focused on the other players at the table. No doubt she was hoping that more would come to fill the empty places. The greater the number of players, the greater her winnings would be.
Kit looked sideways at Marina. Her hands were lying loosely on the green baize. She was staring down at them, apparently lost in thought. ‘Have you played Faro often, Miss Beaumont?’ he asked quietly. Once the play began again, it would be much more difficult to converse with her. He must make the most of this one chance. She might not be beside him for more than one game.
She did not look at him. For a moment, it seemed that she had not heard him or, at least, that she was not going to reply. Had he really offended her so grievously?
Finally, she spoke. ‘I have rarely been in the kind of company that could afford to, sir,’ she said in a low voice.
From the far side of the table, Lady Blaine was straining to overhear their conversation. ‘I take it that you are experienced enough to shuffle the cards, Miss Beaumont?’ she sneered.
At that, Marina looked up at last. A little uncertainly, she stretched out a hand to take the pack. ‘I can try, ma’am, if you permit.’
Rather than put the pack into Marina’s waiting hand, Lady Blaine put it down on the table. Then she smiled knowingly at one of the gentlemen.
Ignoring the snub, Marina simply picked up the pack and began to shuffle the cards. It was obvious that she was no card player. At one point, she almost dropped the pack.
‘Perhaps you would cut, Mr Stratton, once Miss Beaumont has finished?’ asked Lady Blaine condescendingly.
Kit nodded. He could not trust himself to speak civilly to the woman.
‘May we join you?’ said Hugo’s voice from the back of the room.
Kit turned and rose from his chair to greet Emma. She was looking decidedly pleased with herself. Was that a result of yesterday’s successful scheming? He was almost sure that Emma had deliberately left him alone with Marina on the previous afternoon, though he had been unable to fathom just what she was trying to achieve. Women!
‘Would you like to sit here, Emma?’ He indicated the vacant place on his left.
‘No, thank you. I prefer to sit at the end, next to Hugo. He counts the cards better than I do. You would never tell me how to bet, Kit. You enjoy watching me lose.’ From any other woman, it would have sounded like an insult, but not from Emma. There was always that enchanting glint of humour in her eyes.
‘As you say, ma’am.’ Smiling, Kit made Emma an extravagant leg, before resuming his seat. Miss Beaumont did not seem to have moved an inch. She was still struggling to finish shuffling the pack.
He waited patiently, watching her hands. He would never have believed that she would be quite so clumsy. It did not sit with the elegance of all her other movements, but—
‘If you have finished, Miss Beaumont?’ Lady Blaine sounded decidedly testy.
Marina coloured a little and abruptly stopped shuffling.
‘May I, Miss Beaumont?’ Kit held out his hand for the cards.
Without raising her eyes, she placed the pack on his palm. She did not touch him by even a fraction.
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he said softly. He cut the cards swiftly and pushed the pack back across the table to Lady Blaine.
‘At last,’ she said. ‘I was beginning to think we would never be able to play.’ She looked round at the players. There were now seven of them. ‘Stakes, ladies and gentlemen, if you please.’
Mechanically, Kit placed his bet. Marina did not move at all. ‘Do you not wish to play, ma’am?’ he asked quietly, hoping the noise at the table would prevent the banker from hearing his words.
She shook her head slightly. ‘In a moment, sir,’ she said. Her hand was toying with the little pile of cash that the Dowager had left behind. Then she pushed a bank-note on to the three.
The game was unusually noisy. When Emma won, she exclaimed about her good fortune. When she lost, she groaned aloud. The second lady player followed suit. Marina, however, did not. She watched the banker win her stake from the three and simply replaced it, without a word. She lost again, and replaced it again. Why was she playing that single number, over and over?
Kit was waiting to see what she would do if she lost a third time, when he felt a touch on his left side. Katharina! Automatically, he started to rise, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.
‘Please do not let me disturb your game, sir,’ she said in that husky drawl that he had once found so attractive. She slid into the seat and began to fiddle with the reticule on her wrist.
He tried to ignore her. She was probably trying to find her money so that she could join the game. If she had a little more consideration for her fellow-players, she would have done that before sitting down.
Another three was turned up. But this time, it was the carte anglaise. Marina had won. Kit felt absurdly pleased for her. He bent towards her, with a whispered word of encouragement.
From the other side, he felt a hand slip something into his pocket.
No one else was paying any attention at all to Katharina. They were too engrossed in the game. Soon, it would be over.
Marina allowed her winnings to ride on the three. So she was not a total novice, then. She knew enough about Faro to understand that she could win seven times her stake. Pity she did not also know that the odds were so much in favour of the banker.
Lady Blaine looked round once more, waiting for stakes to be placed. Then she turned over her next card with a snap.
‘Lurched again,’ said Hugo, with a laugh. ‘I should never have listened to your advice, my love.’
Lady Blaine faced the carte anglaise. Nobody won.
‘You never do,’ Emma retorted, ‘except when you are looking for someone to blame. It was not I who suggested you should put your money on the five.’
‘Well, there will be no more now,’ he said. ‘I think that they have all been played out.’
‘Are you sure?’ said Emma, her hand still hovering over the livret.
‘Almost,’ Hugo replied with a twisted grin.
‘When you are ready, ladies and gentlemen,’ said Lady Blaine testily. She sounded like a bad-tempered schoolmistress.
Emma hesitated for a second more, then dropped her stake on to the six.
On Kit’s left, Katharina rose. All the gentlemen at the table stood up politely. Lady Blaine looked furious that her deal was being interrupted.
Katharina’s smile encompassed all the men, but ignored the ladies. ‘I do not think I am in the mood for Faro, after all,’ she said with a pout. ‘Excuse me.’
Kit patted his pocket surreptitiously as he resumed his seat. No, he had not been mistaken. She had definitely slipped a note to him. Clever. If her husband asked, all those present would say that Katharina had barely spoken to Kit. She was being very careful indeed. Could it be that the Baron really was threatening her? She had always said that he had a fiery temper.
Lady Blaine had just dealt the final carte anglaise. Again, none of the players won.
There remained only one card to be played. It must be a three. And it would win for the banker. Kit felt a little sorry for Marina. She had not staked much on her threes, but she would have lost three times and won only once.
Lady Blaine faced the last card. It was a five! Kit could not believe his eyes. He was certain he had not miscounted, even though he had been distracted a little by the Baroness. The last card should definitely have been a three.
‘I knew I should not have relied on you to count the cards for me, Hugo,’ protested Emma somewhat archly, giving her husband
a playful rap with her fan. ‘You said all the fives had been played, you wretch.’
‘I was sure that they had,’ Hugo replied slowly. ‘I must have made a mistake. However, it is of no moment. If you had bet on the five again, you would have lost on the banker’s last card.’
‘True,’ agreed Emma.
Lady Blaine began to gather up the used cards and her large pile of winnings. As banker, she had done very well indeed.
Marina raised her head and looked straight across at the Viscountess. At the same moment, the Dowager appeared in the doorway. All the gentlemen rose politely.
‘I thought…’ Marina stopped and frowned. She looked puzzled. ‘Beg pardon, ma’am, but should there not have been another three?’
Lady Blaine gaped.
All the players round the table stopped dead and stared.
Lady Luce strode forward and stood behind Marina’s chair, with her hand on the companion’s shoulder to prevent her from rising. ‘What was that you said, child?’
Marina turned her head to look over her shoulder at the Dowager. ‘I…I…must have been mistaken. It could not have been… It seemed to me that there were only three threes played, but—’
‘Of course you were mistaken, Marina. Not surprising, I should say, considering how little you know about cards. However—’ she paused and directed a narrow-eyed stare at the Viscountess ‘—there have been too many instances of cheating at Faro recently, especially at private parties. Some hostesses, I know, will no longer permit it to be played in their houses. I will not allow any suspicion of impropriety to hang over mine.’ She stretched out her hand imperiously. ‘The cards, if you please, ma’am.’
Lady Blaine still sat immobile.
‘If you please, ma’am,’ said the Dowager again, louder still. ‘You would not wish to be classed as one of those bankers who cheats to win, would you?’ she added pointedly.
Kit leaned on his chair and stared at the floor so that no one would see his face. He had thought that Marina was clever, but this…this was brilliant. Unfortunately, it was also very dangerous indeed. In fact, it was madness.
Lady Blaine had no choice. She handed over the pack. Her face was ashen and her fingers were not quite steady.
‘Thank you,’ said the Dowager curtly. She marched to the end of the table and began to lay out the cards. The players crowded round to watch. No one spoke.
The cards spoke for themselves. A three and a seven were missing. There were two extra cards—a five and a ten.
Lady Blaine began to bluster. ‘The pack must have been wrongly made up. I did not—’
The Dowager picked up the fives and tens and compared them with the rest of the deck. ‘I fear not,’ she said grimly, picking out two cards. ‘These cards did not come from a new pack. They are slightly worn. And I fancy—’ she held one of them towards the candelabrum ‘—I fancy there are pinholes in this one.’
Everyone gasped. Everyone except Kit. And Marina.
She was hanging back, trying not to be noticed. And she was refusing to meet his eyes.
The Dowager appeared to be outraged. ‘I cannot believe that you dared to do such a thing as a guest in my house,’ she said angrily to the speechless Viscountess. ‘I will thank you to leave immediately. You will understand if I do not recognise you, or any of your family again. I may say that I do not expect that any other respectable members of Society will do so either.’
Lady Blaine rose to her feet, though she needed to lean on the back of the chair to do so. Her guilt was written on her face. None the less, she protested, ‘It must have been a mistake. No other explanation is possible. You may choose to believe the worst, ma’am, but my true friends will not.’ She made for the door, straightening her back as she went. She had not once looked at the pile of money lying on the table.
The Dowager looked round at her remaining guests. ‘I cannot tell you how sorry I am,’ she said.
Her tone was an odd mixture of regret and ill-concealed triumph, Kit decided, wonderingly. Was it possible…? Had she known all along? But how could she have made sure—?
It had to have been Marina. A three had been removed. And Marina had played only threes.
Either Marina had deliberately set out to expose Lady Blaine’s cheating or…or she herself had fuzzed the cards in order to entrap the woman. In either case, it was breathlessly daring.
And his Marina was nothing if not bold.
Lady Luce shook her head sadly. ‘I had heard the rumours, of course. I knew she had been winning often—perhaps too often—when she held the bank, but I never dreamed…’ She sighed. ‘However, so it is.’ She moved round the table to the banker’s place. ‘What am I to do with all this?’ she said, indicating the pile of money. ‘Perhaps you would like it to be returned to you?’
‘Certainly not,’ said Hugo firmly. ‘We lost it. We might well have lost it anyway. Perhaps you have a favourite charity, ma’am? A foundling hospital, or some such?’
‘I have a better idea,’ Kit put in, deliberately concealing his mounting fury under a veneer of mild amusement. ‘Why not give it to the anti-slavery campaigners? After all, Lady Blaine’s husband is due back from his plantations any day now. I am sure he would appreciate the gesture.’
That made Marina raise her eyes to his, at last. She was looking daggers at him.
‘Splendid!’ said the Dowager with a crack of harsh laughter. ‘We shall see what the scandal sheets make of that!’
Kit did not miss the momentary glance of triumph that Lady Luce directed at Marina. His worst suspicions were confirmed. And now his anger threatened to overwhelm him.
The Viscountess Blaine was most definitely a cheat. But Marina Beaumont had risked everything in order to ensure that the woman was publicly exposed.
‘My dear, you excelled yourself,’ whispered the Dowager as soon as they were out of earshot of the others.
Marina shook her head. She had replaced the three, to be sure, but not the seven. Nor had she inserted the marked card. Lady Blaine had added that after the pack had been shuffled. Marina was at a loss to understand why the woman had taken such a stupid risk—she could fuzz the cards with such extraordinary skill that the players had no chance of winning, except when she permitted it. Without those missing cards, she would never have been exposed. But one would have been enough. Marina need not have cheated at all…
‘You must have a remarkable way with the cards, child. Nobody suspected anything. That woman will never be able to lift her head again.’
‘Kit Stratton knows.’
The Dowager’s smile vanished. ‘How can he know? He said nothing when you were shuffling the cards, did he?’
‘No, ma’am. But he knows. I saw it in his eyes.’ She would never forget that look, a mixture of shock and disgust. He knew she was a cheat. How could she ever face him again?
‘That’s as may be,’ said the Dowager gruffly, ‘but he will do nothing, even if he does suspect you. Why should he? Lady Blaine’s guilt was obvious to everyone. And her disgrace will remove his obligation to marry their wretched daughter. Kit may be a rake, but he’s a gentleman. No gentleman could be expected to maintain an offer for the child of a proven cheat. He should be calling down a blessing on your head!’
‘But what of Miss Blaine? She is the innocent party in this. She will be ruined by his public rejection of her.’
‘No, my dear, she will not,’ said the Dowager, patting Marina’s arm soothingly, ‘for the betrothal was never announced. What is more, you are forgetting that Tilly Blaine lied in order to ensnare Kit Stratton. She knows she was never alone with him. She told her mother that she was.’
‘But she—’
‘No, Marina. Do not try to defend her. Even if her first reaction was misinterpreted—and I take leave to doubt that, myself—she has had two full days to tell the truth. She has not done so. She is a true Blaine.’
Marina did not try to argue. The Dowager was right. Lady Blaine and Lord Luce had conspired
together to entrap Kit Stratton, and Tilly had done nothing to stop them. Her motives did not matter. The deed was wicked, worse by far than anything Marina had now done. Tilly was fortunate that the betrothal had not been made public. Her disgrace would stem only from her mother’s.
‘I think I should like to retire now, ma’am, if you would permit it.’
‘Certainly not! What are you thinking of? You must stay and you must be seen to enjoy the party. Play a hand or two of cards.’
‘I could not,’ breathed Marina, horrified.
‘Of course you could. Not Faro, I agree—I shall permit no more Faro tonight—but a rubber of piquet, perhaps.’ She looked hard at Marina. ‘Just make sure you do not appear too expert,’ she added in an undertone.
That should not be difficult, Marina thought, for her brain was in such turmoil that she would probably forget everything she had ever known about card playing.
‘Come, let me find you an opponent,’ said her ladyship, leading Marina towards Sir Hugo and Lady Stratton. ‘I am trying to persuade this gel of mine not to dwell too much on that unfortunate incident with Lady Blaine. Can’t seem to get it out of her head. What she needs is something to occupy her mind, like a rubber of piquet. Do you play, Sir Hugo?’ The Dowager was being extremely direct.
‘I do,’ began Sir Hugo a little uncertainly.
‘He does, ma’am,’ interrupted Lady Stratton, ‘but he has promised to take me down to supper. However, I am sure that Kit will be happy to oblige you.’ She turned and beckoned.
No! Please, no! Marina wanted to run, but her legs were made of lead.
Kit bowed with his usual elegance. When Lady Stratton explained the Dowager’s request, his expression remained totally impassive. Then he turned to Marina. ‘I should be delighted to give you a game, ma’am,’ he said, offering her his arm.
The Dowager beamed.
Inwardly, Marina cringed. This could not be happening.
But it was.
In a matter of moments, they were seated at a small table and Kit was breaking a new piquet pack.
