Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager. Sarah Mallory
‘That is why I am so concerned. He came to see me before Christmas, extolling the virtues of this woman—a very paragon she sounded!—but I took little notice. He has always been a sensible boy and I thought his infatuation would soon burn itself out. Then one of my acquaintances wrote to tell me that this … this female holds regular card parties. I am told she won a considerable sum of money from Gerald. Two hundred guineas!’
‘A mere nothing. He could lose more than that in a sitting at White’s.’
‘Perhaps, but my acquaintance says all Bath was talking of it.’
‘Bath!’ Jasper laughed. ‘He has become enamoured of a lady from Bath? Is she an invalid or old enough to be his grandmama?’
‘It may not be quite as fashionable as it was, but there are still any number of people who like to visit there,’ replied Mrs Barnabus, affronted by his humour. ‘I should go there myself, if the waters here were not more beneficial for those like myself who are prone to consumptive symptoms.’
‘Well perhaps you should go there anyway, to find out just what Gerald is about.’
‘He will not listen to me. He is one-and-twenty now, and in charge of his own fortune. Besides, I could not possibly travel such a distance.’
‘It is barely fifteen miles, Cousin.’
‘And I would be so knocked up I should be in no fit state to help my poor son.’ She sank back on the sofa and waved her vinaigrette under her nose, weakened merely by the thought of such a journey. ‘No, Markham, as head of the family, it is up to you to rescue Gerald from the clutches of this—this harpy.’
‘My dear ma’am, we have no evidence that there is anything wrong with the woman at all, save that she has beaten Gerald at cards. And even that is not to be wondered at. If I remember rightly he was never that sharp.’
Gloriana’s eyes snapped angrily.
‘You are too cruel, Markham. The boy is almost ten years your junior and lacks your worldly experience. And now, when I ask, nay, beg you to help him, you can do nothing but jest.’ She broke off, dragging a wisp of lace from her pocket and dabbing at her eyes.
Jasper regarded her in exasperation as he saw his dinner at the Hare and Hounds slipping away. However, beneath his insouciant exterior he was quite fond of Gerald, so he gave in with a faint shrug.
‘Very well, ma’am, I can as easily stop at Bath tonight as at Corsham. I will seek out Gerald and find out just what is afoot.’
Gently brushing aside her grateful effusions and the belated offer of a glass of ratafia, Jasper took his leave of Gloriana and headed for York House.
He arrived at the busy Bath hotel before five o’clock, in good time to bespeak rooms and dinner. Then, having changed his travel clothes for the coat and knee-breeches that were still the required evening dress for Bath, he sallied forth in search of Gerald Barnabus.
Susannah looked around the drawing room with satisfaction. It was filling up nicely and most of the little card tables were occupied.
‘Another good turn-out.’
Susannah heard the murmur and found Kate Logan at her side. Kate was a widow and past her thirtieth year, although she looked younger and her stylish gown of bronze satin with its matching turban drew many a gentleman’s eye. Susannah knew Kate was well aware of her attraction and used it to advantage at the card table, although she never succumbed to any gentleman’s advances. She continued now in her habitual slow drawl, ‘There is a ball at the Lower Rooms tonight, so doubtless many will take themselves off there at ten and then we can get down to business.’
Susannah shushed her with a look and said in a voice of mock severity, ‘There is no business here, Mrs Logan. We merely invite a few friends to enjoy a game of cards.’
Kate gave a knowing smile.
‘That is what I meant, Susannah.’
‘Of course,’ added Susannah innocently, ‘some of our guests might lose a few guineas at our tables, but that is hardly to be wondered at, after all.’ She glanced at her friend, trying to keep her countenance, but failed miserably, and her peal of laughter made several heads turn. ‘Oh dear, now I have made people stare. Go away, Kate, before I forget myself again. Look, my aunt is waving to you to make a fourth at whist.’
‘And she is sitting down with Mr and Mrs Anstruther, who spend so much time bickering that they invariably lose. Very well, I shall go, and I see old Major Crommelly is coming over, no doubt to engage you for a game of picquet, which is his pretext to get you to himself and subject you to the most fulsome compliments.’
‘He may positively shower me with compliments as long as he is happy to play for pound points,’ chuckled Susannah, turning to greet the elderly gentleman who was approaching her.
It was well over an hour later that she rose from the table, refusing the major’s suggestion that they should play another hand.
‘But, my dear Miss Prentess, the night is yet young.’
‘It is indeed, but I have other guests to attend, Major, and cannot let you monopolise me.’
She softened her words with a smile and went off to join her aunt, whom she found bubbling with excitement.
‘Susannah, I am so glad you are come, I was determined to interrupt your game if you had not finished when you did.’
‘My dear ma’am, what has occurred to put you into a spin?’
‘Mr Barnabus has arrived—’
‘Is that all? How did he look? I hope he is not too downhearted—’
‘No, that is, I did not notice.’ Aunt Maude flapped her hands in excitement. ‘Did you see the stranger he brought with him?’
‘No, I was paying picquet with the major and had my back to the door.’ Susannah looked around. ‘Has Mr Barnabus brought another gentleman, then? That is good of him, and shows he has not taken umbrage at my refusal.’
‘No, not a gentleman, Susannah. A viscount. There, I knew that would make you stare.’
‘It does indeed. We have had nothing more prestigious than a baron here before, although I suppose General Sanstead is pretty high …’
Mrs Wilby tapped her niece’s arm with her closed fan.
‘Pray be serious, Susannah, his presence here adds distinction! You must let me make you known to him at once.’
‘By all means, Aunt. Lead on.’
‘No need, here he comes now,’ Mrs Wilby responded in a shrill whisper, and Susannah looked around to see two gentlemen approaching. The first, a stocky young man with an open, boyish countenance beneath a thatch of fair hair, was Gerald Barnabus, and after a brief smile of welcome she turned her attention to his companion. The contrast with Mr Barnabus was striking. Gerald looked neat—even smart—in his evening dress, but the viscount’s black coat bore all the hallmarks of a London tailor. It fitted perfectly across his shoulders and followed the tapering line of the body to his waist. Satin knee-breeches stretched over muscled thighs that hinted at the athlete, while the startling white of his quilted waistcoat and impeccable linen of his shirt and neckcloth proclaimed a level of sartorial elegance not often seen in Bath.
The man himself was tall and lean, with hair as dark as midnight. The golden, flickering candlelight accentuated the strong lines of his handsome face. When she met his eyes a little tremor ran down her spine. She was used to seeing admiration in a man’s look, but the viscount’s gaze was coolly appraising.
‘Ah, there you are, Miss Prentess,’ Gerald greeted her cheerfully. ‘I have brought a friend with me; I made sure you would not object to it. Well, I say friend, but he is some sort of cousin, actually …’
‘Come, Gerald, you are taking