Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager(17)

‘If only we had not lost money at last week’s card party,’ she muttered, staring unseeing at the bleak winter landscape.

However, it was not her nature to be despondent and she put her mind to ways of raising the capital she needed. Her fingers crept up to the string of pearls about her neck. She had inherited her aunt’s jewel box. It was overflowing with necklaces, brooches and rings, most of them quite unsuitable for a single lady. Susannah did not want to sell any of them. They were part of her inheritance and she owed it to her uncle’s memory to keep them if she possibly could. But Florence House was important to her, and she had to do something, and urgently. By the time she reached Bath she had come up with a plan, and when she spotted Gerald Barnabus on the pavement she pulled the check-string and stopped the carriage.

‘Gerald, good day to you! I wonder if I might have a word...’

* * *

March had arrived. The first flowers of spring were in evidence and Jasper was conscious of the fact that he had planned to be back at Markham by now. He was receiving regular reports from his steward, which assured him all was well, but he wanted to be back before Lady Day. The yearly rents were due then and he liked to discuss future agreements with his tenants. Honesty compelled him to admit that there was no real reason for him to stay in Bath, so what was keeping him here? He might argue that it was the mystery surrounding Susannah Prentess, but an uncomfortable honesty forced him to admit that it was the woman herself who fascinated him. It would not do. It would be best if he forgot all about Miss Prentess. When Tuesday dawned he found himself looking forward to going to Royal Crescent that evening. It would be the last time, he promised himself. He would bid goodbye to Mrs Wilby and her enchanting niece and return to Markham.

Jasper went out for his usual early walk, but this time turned his steps towards Sydney Gardens, determined that he would not even look to see if Miss Prentess’s carriage left the city that morning.

* * *

He returned to York House for breakfast and spent the next few hours at the desk replying to his steward and writing various letters. The afternoon was well advanced by the time he applied his seal to the last letter, and when Jasper glanced at the clock he was surprised to find it was so late. It had become something of a habit for Gerald to call in York House each afternoon, if they had not met earlier in the day, to discuss plans for the evening. Jasper shrugged. He was not his cousin’s keeper. Gerald was of age, after all, and had gone on very well in Bath before his arrival. Jasper finished his letters and called for Peters to bring his hat and cane: he would call upon Gerald at his lodgings in Westgate Buildings and invite him to dinner.

* * *

In the event Jasper never reached Gerald’s abode, nor did he issue the invitation. He had stopped in Milsom Street. It was in his mind to buy a little gift to send down to his godson at Rooks Tower, but his attention was caught by a reflection in the toyshop window. The shop was on the shady side of the street, so the image from the far side of the road was particularly clear. Gerald had emerged from the jewellers and paused to pull on his gloves. Jasper turned and was about to hail his cousin when he noticed the veiled figure of a lady being ushered out of the shop with much bowing by a black-coated assistant. It was obvious to Jasper that Gerald was waiting for the lady. He held out his arm to her, but before setting off she put up her veil to display the lovely countenance of Susannah Prentess.

Jasper froze. Susannah slipped her hand through Gerald’s arm and they set off down the street. There was such a warm smile on her face that Jasper felt winded. He stepped back, almost reeling from the sudden bolt of jealousy that shot through him.

The low sun was shining upon them and they did not notice him watching from the shadows. Had Gerald proposed again, had he been accepted? No. He could not believe it. He would not believe it until he had spoken to his cousin. With an effort he forced his unwilling feet to carry him onwards. His brain seethed with conjecture, but he refused to admit his worst fears. He wandered about the town, visiting the Pump Room and the circulating library, but nothing could satisfy his restless spirit. He called at the White Hart but discovered that Charles Camerton had gone out. No matter, Charles was joining him for dinner, so he would see him then. However, as he turned his steps once more towards his hotel he saw Gerald walking down High Street towards him. He was somewhat reassured by the way Gerald hailed him cheerfully, but after they had exchanged greetings, Jasper could not resist telling him that he had seen him earlier.

‘You were outside the jewellers with Miss Prentess. Would you like to tell me what that was about?’

‘Actually, I am not at liberty to say at the moment.’ Gerald’s boyish face flushed. ‘I promised Susannah.’

‘I see.’ Jasper’s jaw clenched at the familiar use of her name and there was a hollow ache in his stomach.

‘It is nothing terrible,’ Gerald hurried on, watching him anxiously.

Jasper forced a smile to his lips.

‘If that is the case then why can you not tell me?’

Gerald looked uncomfortable.

‘It is just that I know Mama would not approve. She might quiz you, and if you do not know, then you cannot tell her anything, can you?’

‘Gerald—’

His cousin cut him short.

‘Will you be at the Crescent this evening? I will ask Susannah. If she is willing, I will tell you then. I promise. For now you must excuse me, I am on an errand.’

‘Come and dine with me tonight,’ said Jasper. ‘Charles Camerton will be there, we can go on to the Crescent together.’

Gerald shook his head.

‘I am sorry, Jasper, I should like to join you, but I do not think I will be back in time.’

‘Why, where are you going?’

‘I told you, an errand,’ was all the answer Gerald would give before he dashed off, leaving Jasper prey to such a fierce anger that for several minutes he remained rooted to the spot. An engagement. It had to be. It was the only thing that could account for Gerald’s odd speech, and the happiness he had seen in both their faces earlier. Clutching his cane, Jasper strode angrily back to York House. She had tricked him. Why should he be surprised? She had told him her actions were no concern of his, but Gerald was his concern. Damnation, he was head of the family. How dare she make Gerald act in this underhand manner!

* * *

By the time Charles Camerton arrived for dinner Jasper’s rage was contained. Outwardly he was smiling, urbane, but it still burned, a steady, simmering fury inside him. Years of training came to his aid, allowing him to converse with seeming normality during the meal, but he tasted nothing of the dishes set before him and allowed his glass to be refilled more than normal.

Only when the covers were removed and the servants had withdrawn did he allow himself to think back over his day.

‘I looked for you at the White Hart today, Charles, and you were not in the Pump Room. Did you go out of town?’

‘Yes. It was such a fine day I took Mrs Logan for a drive.’

‘Really?’

Charles shrugged. ‘Just being friendly, you know.’

‘I hope you are not developing a tendre there, Charles. I shall require you to be on winning form again at the Crescent tonight.’

Charles refilled his brandy glass.

‘I am more than happy to accompany you there, Markham, but I am not sure your plan is necessary. I have been watching your cousin. He does not seem in any danger of making a cake of himself over La Prentess.

At least, no more than any of the other young bucks who are fashionably in love with her.’

‘I wish I could agree with you.’ Jasper pushed back his chair. ‘I plan to leave Bath soon, but before I do I want to make sure Gerald is in no danger.’

‘Very well then.’ Charles rose and followed him to the door. ‘Let us to the Crescent, by all means.’

Jasper escorted him out of the hotel. During the meal he had convinced himself that there was only one way to protect Gerald from that scheming woman: he would have to seduce her.

* * *

Susannah gazed about her with satisfaction. The drawing room looked very welcoming, the curtains were pulled against the darkness and the cheerful fire kept the icy weather at bay so effectively that she did not need to wear a shawl over the flowing creation Odesse had fashioned for her. The apricot silk was embroidered at the neck and sleeves with a pattern of vine leaves, the detail cleverly picked out in silver thread to catch the candlelight. She heard the distant rumble of voices. The first guests were arriving. Almost upon the thought Mrs Wilby hurried in.

‘Is everything ready, my love? Tables set, new packs of cards... I have told Gatley to have plenty of mulled wine available for our guests as it is such a cold night.’ She looked about her. ‘Where is Mrs Logan?’

‘She sent me word she might be a little late. She went out driving this afternoon.’

‘Oh, with whom?’

‘She did not say.’ It was true, but Susannah suspected she had been in the company of Mr Camerton. She had seen them talking together after the Sunday service at the Abbey, and although Kate would tell her nothing, her smile had been very self-satisfied. She wondered if the widow had formed an attachment, then quickly dismissed the idea. Kate might smile and flirt with the men she encountered but Susannah knew it was a charade. Kate had often voiced her opinion of the male sex. They were at best deceivers, selfish brutes who cared for nothing but their own pleasure. It was much more likely that she was, to use Kate’s own phrase, keeping Mr Camerton sweet in the hopes of winning his money from him this evening.