An Inadvisable Wager (The Curse of the Weatherby Ball Book 2)

by Eliza Lloyd

  “This is ridiculous.” Timothy walked to the other side of the room and sat in a chair near an open window. Carlow took a seat next to her and Millie stood between them and her husband, not sure where she should be.

  “Sit with us, Millie,” Carlow said.

  “No, I think I will go to my room.” She bowed to Carlow and Nora, glanced at her husband engrossed in the past and left the library. “This seems a private moment,” she said, and departed.

  “I think she only just now realizes what she married into,” Carlow said.

  Nora sipped her tea. “This is a nice tea, Carlow. I won’t ever be able to drink it again without thinking of this day.”

  “It’s nice to have such reminders.”

  Finishing her cup, she glanced at Timothy. His open letter sat in his lap and he stared outside, his elbow braced against the arm of the chair and one finger to his lips.

  She pressed her lips together and gripped the aged envelope.

  “Do you want me to leave?” Carlow asked.

  “No. Read it with me.” She peeled it open and pulled out the single sheet.

  My dearest treasure. My darling little girl. You will be a shining young woman by the time you read this, and I, a sad memory.

  First, do not defend me. I am guilty of those things I have been accused, for I am and have always been a thief, this time getting caught up in a scheme I could not wiggle out of. Decisions had to be made to protect my three partners in crime. I think you can guess who they are. They had more to lose than I.

  Think no ill of your mother. She freely made her choice. She was charmed by that wicked and deceitful Exeter. She gave him all, but I would not allow her to give my properties back to him, because she would have done it and then he would have fed her to the dogs. He may well do that anyway when he finds out what I have done to protect the earldom.

  I had to protect the title even more than the properties. I bribed certain government officials to ensure the title would pass to Timothy. I hope that this has happened, or I will have done everything in vain. I bribed the guards too—my last days should be comfortable. You are not to worry about my end.

  A good father would give you the best advice. All I have for you is to be circumspect in your behavior; be cautious in your choice of friends; be faithful to those who are faithful to you.

  What is in the trunk is all that remains of what was good in my life, and I should confess, enjoyable. I think you will appreciate it more now than when you were eight, or eighteen.

  My lovely, sweet girl. You are so full of life. I hope this has not and will not defeat you. I pray James and Hester care for you as I would have had I not been such a wastrel. I had to choose someone I could trust, and that person wasn’t your mother. Ask her to forgive me, won’t you?

  Tell the three I expect them to keep their word. You need only show them this letter to tell them I remember, will remember in death, and I hold them to their sacred vow.

  I wish I could see your face one last time. I wish I could change the past just for you and Timothy. I wish I could see your future and know that I did something right in my life.

  Your loving Papa

  Nora sat in a daze. Tears trickled over her cheeks from the weight of sadness but there was joy too. This unexpected gift. They each sat quietly, letting the gravity of the moment sink in. Carlow politely waited.

  “Timothy? Shall we open the trunk?” Nora finally asked.

  He got to his feet slowly and tucked his letter in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Yes. Now is as good a time as any.”

  “Let me, dear,” Carlow said, and plucked up the keys, matched the marks and opened each quickly. He lifted the lid and stepped back.

  Nora’s gaze was transfixed by the beauty of the famous Davenport pink diamonds, laid on a beautiful velvet bed. And then she glanced at the shining gold, the tarnished silver, more shining gold, the diamond bracelets, more shining gold, silver chains, rubies, sapphires and…

  “Oh my God!” Nora said.

  Timothy and Nora stared down. Silence filled the room and made Nora’s ears ache. Carlow whistled.

  “I think I’m going to faint,” Timothy said.

  “Blasington’s Hoard,” she said.

  * * * * *

  Carlow locked the lid to the trunk a few hours earlier. He’d pocketed the keys, holding them until they could decide what they were going to do. Carlow suggested taking the trunk directly back to Child and Company for safe keeping.

  They hadn’t touched anything inside, only stared at it until Nora had gently lowered the lid. “This can wait for another day.”

  She was stretched out on the bed with her shoes off and her stays loosened, staring at the bed canopy.

  “Are you ready to talk?” Carlow asked.

  “I still can’t breathe. I might be suffering delirium or a permanent stupor. Or some unnamed mental fatigue. Is it all a dream?”

  “Should I call a physician?”

  “If I don’t move in the next five minutes, yes. One would think nothing could faze Nora the Avenger.”

  “I suppose you really do want a dissolution of our marriage now,” he said.

  She glanced quickly. “Carlow, don’t jest with me at such a time.”

  “I’m very happy I already declared my love for you then. I’m not sure you would believe me if I confessed now,” he said. “You might have more wealth than I do.”

  “Only half of it is mine.”

  “Half of a fortune is still a fortune.”

  “How am I going to sleep? I wonder if Timothy is.”

  “He has a new wife, and I would guess he knows what to do with her in such a circumstance.”

  “I think Timothy grew three inches tonight, knowing he could provide for his family. Knowing he wouldn’t have to rely on you for the rest of his life.”

  “Millicent was going to provide well enough for them.”

  “You know what I mean. It’s not the same thing when your own labor, your own worth isn’t enough to put a meal on the hearth. I should tell Lord and Lady Fortenay. They’ll be happy to know the end of this story.”

  “My advice is that you tell no one. I think I should tell Timothy the same thing.”

  “Why? It is some sort of vindication, isn’t it? That we aren’t the paupers everyone believed.”

  “A vindication, but also a very serious revelation. I think we all know who the three coconspirators were. It is only a small step to understand the four of them were involved in some treasonous plot together and your father took the entire punishment.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He must have been more loyal and more clever than any of us gave him credit for. I would actually lay money that because Blasington knew his reputation was the one already tarnished, it would have been easy to say he was the guilty one. No one would have doubted him. At the same time, he protects the others.”

  “Do you suppose that is what made your father a little insane? If they were truly friends, maybe there was an element of guilt that he could not tolerate.”

  He raised his brows. “Lesser men have been felled by lesser crimes.”

  “I will advise Timothy.”

  “Thank you. You were right, Nora. You were right to seek the truth, but now none of us need the questions. Or jealousy. People aren’t always reasonable about others’ unique fortunes. And with your father’s reputation, who knows where that could lead? Also, I would recommend you either destroy the letter or somehow remove the incriminating information about my father, along with Fromme and Andover’s fathers.”

  “You really think that it was about them? It was very ambiguous.”

  “As he intended, but not ambiguous enough for my comfort. Timothy’s too. Fifteen years ago was not so long ago and Napoleon not so long dead. Someone would remember if it were put in front of their nose.”

  She sat up, stupor conquered. Carlow had seated himself at the end of the bed. “I would give it all up to keep you,” s
he said.

  “But you have me. You have to give up nothing.”

  Nora reached for him and he met her hand with a gentle squeeze. “Had we only known the truth,” she said.

  “I don’t know. Not everything was sewn up neatly. Just as your father couldn’t know where we are today, we couldn’t know most of those things happening the year before he was hanged. Aside from Exeter, all the principles are dead and gone.”

  “And I don’t think Exeter would provide answers, even if he could,” she said. “What a miserable old churl.”

  “We know enough.”

  “How much of the trunk’s contents do you think are ill-gotten gains? If I wear one of those diamond necklaces at the next ball, who do you think will step forward to make a claim? Are we allowed to keep it?”

  “Oh, please don’t make me the arbiter of good and right. Ask one hundred people and you’ll get one hundred different answers.”

  “Would you think less of me if I said I want to shout it from London’s rooftops?”

  “That is inadvisable. That’s all I will say. So, what next, Lady Carlow?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that too.”

  “You have?” Carlow said, wrapping his arm about her waist and pulling her close.

  “Yes, indeed I have. We should begin, in earnest, to make ten or so little Carlow heirs so we have someone to inherit. We’ll never be able to spend all that, even half of it.”

  “I don’t know about that. Henbury Hall is going to require more repairs, but I do like the idea as a general principle. And I will certainly do my part to make it happen. I should remind you before you commit to ten, only one will be the heir.”

  “Gigi says that is poppycock. All of our children should be entitled to a portion, not just rely on the oldest for a minuscule slice.”

  “Lady Fortenay’s day will come, but it is not this day.”

  She wrapped an arm about Carlow’s neck. “My father’s life must have been very fascinating.”

  “Until that bit about treason and hanging.”

  “If he had lived, I would be more interesting.”

  “Or you would be in the same situation as he was. Shackled with weekly conjugal visits from your husband.”

  “For that you might have to bribe the guards,” she said.

  “Whatever they want. As much as they want.”

  “Or you could just rescue me from whatever difficulty I happen to be in that day.”

  “I fear that is going to be my full-time responsibility. Hopefully, I won’t fail in this daunting task. I’ve seen firsthand the sort of trouble you get into.”

  “You can keep me out of trouble by allowing me to spend time at Henbury Hall. I would like to be involved in all the details needed to repair the home.”

  “London has no appeal?”

  “I want to be wherever you are.” She settled more fully on his lap, nestling her bottom between his thighs and wrapping her arms about his neck. “And right now, where you are is exactly where I want you.”

  Epilogue

  Nora lumbered about the house, ready to deliver the cumbersome package she’d been carrying the last nine months, and Carlow, dreadful man that he was, had refused—refused!—to let her go to the Weatherby Ball this year.

  As if he could keep her home on such a night.

  “Carlow, the theme this year is the Garden of Heavenly Delights. Imagine the possibilities.”

  “No. Would you like me to have Mintz bring up some pickles?”

  “Pickles are making me sick. But I am going and that’s the end of it. I have my costume already.” Though she did resemble a tree trunk rather than a gracefully swaying maple.

  “No costume and mask is going to hide that bump. Everyone will know it is you which defeats the purpose of a masked ball.”

  “But perhaps I can be part of this year’s curse. What if I go into labor during the middle of the ball? I’m sure everyone would talk about it for the next year.”

  “You don’t enjoy dancing under the best of circumstances, so that is very unlikely.”

  “I’ve been taking lessons.”

  “With your swollen ankles and your need to stay near a chamber pot?”

  She hmpfed. “I will be fine.”

  “How many times do I have to say no?”

  “Until you are out of breath. I am going.”

  “My dear, why don’t we stay home? I will hide one of your many baubles and you will have to find a way to steal it from me.”

  She laughed. “Carlow, the last time we did that, I almost incapacitated you for a month.”

  “I shouldn’t have wound the necklace so tight and you shouldn’t have removed your robe.”

  Nora laughed. “Baubles. Shmaubles. I’m going to the ball.”

  The next night, Nora was regretting her decision to attend. Her lower back ached. Her feet and her shoes did not agree. But her costume was fabulous, a beautiful shimmery green with appliqued plants at the hem of her garment. Her mask was decorated with a heavy row of silk flowers. She was no Gaia, but she might have passed for a plump Antheia.

  “Let me take you to a sitting room. You don’t need to be wandering around bumping into drunken lechers. And I can get you something to drink,” Carlow said.

  “I’m going to the library. I wouldn’t mind playing cards. And it will be quiet there.”

  “You promise there will be no shenanigans?”

  “Carlow, we have coins spilling out our front door. I don’t need to thieve from anyone.”

  After Carlow deposited her in the gaming room, Nora glanced around. And what to her wandering eyes did appear: Exeter.

  His name had not come up much in the past year. With effort and with a baby on the way and with the marvelous progress that had been made at Henbury Hall, Nora had been able to let much of the crushing anger melt away. But. But there he was. Getting on in years and still the arrogant noble who had caused the family so much pain.

  She pushed from the chair and waddled to the table. Nora the Avenger stared out the eyeholes of her mask. There was no satisfaction hiding behind her domino, not when Exeter stood before her. He needed to know who she was. She needed him to know.

  “Do you have room for one more?” she asked. The three men at the table stood; one came around to assist her.

  “Certainly. We are playing for fairly low stakes. I promise we will play fair,” Viscount Heath said. Oh, this table was full of the best London had to offer, she thought.

  “How is your lovely wife, my lord?” she asked. Millicent was here at the ball. Hopefully, Timothy would have the wisdom to keep them far apart. While she loved Millie with all her heart and loved little Jacques even more, she wanted them to have no pain over the past.

  “Very well, Lady Carlow. She is here somewhere.”

  “What are we playing?” Nora asked.

  “Since there are four of us, why not a simple game or two of whist?”

  “Oh, no. We need something a little more challenging. Why not vingt-et-un?” she asked. “What say you, your grace? Do you have a preference?”

  “As the lady wishes.” He stared down his nose at her and wore a decided smirk.

  The rounds of play passed pleasantly enough. Nora’s stack grew slowly. She wasn’t cheating either. She wanted to lure Exeter in. To what purpose she couldn’t say; she’d know it when she saw it.

  When Carlow entered some twenty minutes later, he approached the table, but she shook her head, warning him to stay away. He didn’t. He took their drinks and found a cushioned seat nearby.

  Several hands later, she sensed the men were getting restless. Nora had no real plan. She just wanted to show Exeter that he still couldn’t best a Blasington.

  “One more hand, gentlemen. I don’t want to take all your money, and if we keep playing, that might happen.”

  And she wasn’t going to cheat. If she didn’t need to…

  “You may try,” Exeter said. “Many have tried.”

  �
��And a few have succeeded,” she prodded.

  “Skill isn’t the same thing as cheating.”

  “Oh dear! I would have guessed a man of your stature was too wise to be cheated out of anything.”

  “I am wise to the ways of scoundrels. It may not be apparent at first glance, but a truly dishonest man will always reveal himself. It may take a day. Or it may take years. Your father, for instance. The infamous George Blasington.”

  There was something there, something he was trying to say.

  The cards were dealt and the money in the middle of the table grew. Viscount Heath bet heavily on his first card. Nora’s coins were all on the table. Her hidden card was an ace and was as good as any to bet on with a heavy hand due to its flexibility. She pushed coins to the middle as well. Exeter joined them.

  After another card landed in front of them all, face up, another round of betting occurred. Exeter had a jack face up, Heath had a ten, Nora a three. The dealer had a nine face up and he withdrew from the betting.

  Exeter declined another card. Heath and Nora accepted their next turn.

  Heath pushed everything he had to the middle of the table.

  Nora pushed her coins and pulled off the beautiful blue gem she was wearing.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carlow sit up, elbows braced to his knees. He then swallowed back all the drink that remained in his glass. This was no time to assure him that she had everything well in hand.

  Exeter stared at the stack, doubting his play.

  “It’s all right if you don’t have enough with you, your grace. I understand.” It was a subtle poke. A little swipe at his pride that might get him to act irrationally. “But that cabochon you are wearing is quite lovely.”

  “So it is.” He pulled the ring from his finger, stared at it for a moment, then set it on the stack. “I feel lucky,” he said.

  Heath turned his card. Nineteen.

  Nora turned hers. Twenty.

  Exeter swore. “Eighteen.” He threw his cards to the middle of the table.

  Nora reached for the coins and the two rings, pulling them in front of her. “Skill is only eclipsed by luck, and my family has always had a fair share of both.”