Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager. Sarah Mallory
am Markham.’ He gave a little bow. ‘How do you do?’
‘I am very well, my lord, thank you. And of course there can be no objection to your coming here with Mr Barnabus.’
‘Aye, I knew you would be pleased,’ said Gerald, grinning.
Susannah barely heard Gerald’s words for the viscount had reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips.
‘Are you making a long stay in Bath, my lord?’ She struggled to ignore the fluttering inside, like the soft beating of birds’ wings against her ribcage. The pad of his thumb had rubbed gently over her knuckles before he gave up her hand and her skin still tingled with the memory.
‘I am on my way to town. I merely stopped off to look in on my cousin.’
‘Aye, which is why I persuaded him to take pot luck here with me tonight,’ added Gerald.
‘And we are delighted to have you join us.’ Mrs Wilby spread her fan and looked about her while Susannah stood mute at her side, trying to make sense of her reaction to this stranger. ‘What would you care to play, my lord? There is macao, or loo, or euchre … or if you care to wait a little I am sure we can set you up with a rubber of whist—’
‘You are too kind, ma’am, but if you have no objection I shall walk about a little.’ He bestowed such a charming smile upon Aunt Maude that Susannah was not at all surprised to see her simpering like a schoolroom miss. ‘I like to gauge the opposition before I commit myself to the game.’
‘You will find no deep play here, my lord,’ Susannah responded. ‘And no hardened gamesters.’
‘No?’ His brows lifted. ‘Not even yourself, Miss Prentess?’
Again that flutter down her spine. She was close enough to see his eyes now. Blue-grey, and hard as slate.
She shook her head. ‘I am no gamester, my lord.’
‘But she is good,’ said Gerald. ‘I’d wager she could match you, Cousin.’
‘Indeed? Perhaps we should put it to the test.’
His voice was silky, but she heard the note of contempt in his tone. To her dismay she felt the blush rising to her cheeks. She could do nothing to hide it, so she put up her chin and replied to Gerald with a smile.
‘You are too kind, Mr Barnabus. I have no wish to pit myself against one who is no doubt a master.’
She excused herself and walked away. As she passed the table where Mrs Logan was presiding at a noisy game of vingt-et-un, Kate stretched out her hand to detain her.
‘You seem to have netted a big fish there, Susannah,’ she murmured. ‘Who is he?’
‘Viscount Markham, Gerald’s cousin.’
‘Indeed? A very big fish then.’ Kate’s eyes flickered over the viscount, then came back to her friend. ‘He does not please you?’
‘He seems inclined to sneer at our little party.’ Susannah shrugged. ‘Let my aunt deal with him. If we are not to his taste I hope he will not stay long.’
A shout recalled Kate’s attention to the game and Susannah moved on. She sat down with a large group who were playing loo and tried to give her attention to the cards, but all the time she was aware of the viscount’s tall figure wandering around the room. Then, suddenly, she could not see him and wondered if he had been persuaded to sit down at one of the other tables, or if he had taken his leave. The unease she had felt in his presence made her hope it was the latter.
As the evening wore on and the crowd in the room thinned, Susannah noticed the familiar, subtle change in the card party. The chatter and laughter died away as those who were left concentrated on their game. Two young gentlemen challenged her to take them on at ombre and she was busily engaged with them until the supper gong sounded at midnight.
‘Sacardo again, Miss Prentess,’ laughed one of the young men, throwing down his cards in mock disgust. ‘You are unbeatable tonight.’
‘Aye, she has won almost every trick,’ declared the other, watching as Susannah swept the small pile of coins from the table into her reticule. ‘I hope you will allow Warwick and me the chance to take our revenge later?’
‘More to the point, Farthing, I hope Miss Prentess will allow me to escort her down to supper,’ added Mr Warwick, looking hopefully across at Susannah.
‘Nay, as to that, surely the honour should fall to me?’ said Mr Farthing. ‘I at least won codille, sir, so it can be said I bested you!’
Susannah threw up her hands, laughing.
‘Gentlemen, pray, do not fight over such a trifle.’
‘Especially when the trick is already won,’ said a deep, amused voice. ‘I have come to escort you down to supper, Miss Prentess.’
Susannah looked round to find Lord Markham standing behind her, his hand on the back of her chair.
‘Indeed, my lord?’ His self-assurance rattled her. ‘I rather think these gentlemen might oppose you.’
A glance back showed Susannah that the two young men might have been prepared to fight each other for the pleasure of taking her to supper, but they were far too in awe of a viscount to raise an objection. She was disappointed when they scrambled to their feet, uttering disjointed phrases.
‘L-Lord Markham! N-no, no objections at all, my lord.’
‘Only too happy …’
‘There, you see? No opposition at all.’ The humour glinting in Lord Markham’s eyes did nothing to appease Susannah, but it would not do to show her displeasure, so with a smile of acquiescence she took his hand and allowed him to lead her off. As they moved through the room she looked around her.
‘Ah, my aunt is setting up another game of loo. Perhaps she would like me to help her—’
‘No, it was she who suggested I should take you downstairs.’ When Susannah hesitated he added, ‘You can see, Miss Prentess, that everyone is perfectly content. You may take a little time now to enjoy yourself. These parties are designed to be enjoyed. After all, it is not as if you are running a gaming hell here.’
She looked at him sharply, but could read nothing from his smile. His manners were perfectly polite, but she had the distinct feeling he was on his guard, that he was assessing her. Susannah gave an inward shrug. What did it matter? He was not staying in Bath.
She accompanied him to the supper room, where a selection of cold meats, fruits and sweets was laid out on the table. Susannah chose sparingly from the selection before her, but she was surprised when her escort showed no interest in the food.
‘I am sorry I cannot offer you soup or ramekins, Lord Markham. Our guests make do with a cold collation, even in winter, although there is warm wine for anyone who wishes it.’
‘I require nothing, thank you.’
They found an empty table and sat down. Susannah took a little minced chicken, but found she had no appetite with the viscount sitting opposite her.
‘You work very hard at your … entertainments, Miss Prentess.’
‘I help my aunt as best I can, sir.’
‘And how often do you hold these little parties?’
‘Every Tuesday.’
‘Indeed? You must be prodigious fond of cards, ma’am.’
‘My aunt enjoys them, yes.’
‘I stand corrected.’
She looked up at him, understanding dawning.
‘Ah, I see what it is,’ she said, smiling. ‘You are concerned for your cousin.’
‘Should I not