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Authors: Caroline Courtney

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BOOK: A Wager for Love
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“Not even a guinea?” queried Lavinia dryly, her sense of humour reasserting itself. “An exaggeration surely, cousin … but what could she have been thinking of to run off with him in the first place? She must have given him some encouragement.”

“Never a bit,” replied Lady Elizabeth vehemently. “Of course he is a handsome devil, always has been, but she was all but engaged to the Duke of Cliveden’s son when Saltaire took a fancy to her.”

Lavinia’s voice, if anything, became even drier. “And, of course, a mere Viscount, however handsome, is no substitute for the son of a Duke.”

Lady Elizabeth looked at her warily. “But, my dear, that is old history now. What I cannot understand is what you were doing in Grosvenor Square. You should have given the draft to Richard,” she reproved. Seeing that she was getting no response, she moaned again. “Why of all the people in London did Richard have to lose to Saltaire?”

Lavinia sighed, putting a hand to her aching temple. “But I thought Richard said he lost to the heir of the Earl of Saltaire.”

“Oh you may depend upon it, my love, in his fear the boy made a natural mistake, and who could blame him. To be sure, Saltaire has but recently come into the title. That is where the mistake arose.” She shook her head worriedly. “Lud, child, you were lucky to escape with your virtue. It does not bear thinking about.”

Not for anything would Lavinia tell Lady Elizabeth just what Saltaire had proposed to her. She might have escaped from his house by a fortunate chance, but he still held

Richard’s notes. What was to be done?

Lady Elizabeth placed a comforting hand on her arm. “There, don’t look so downcast. Doubtless no-one saw you. All may be well yet. Now go up to your room and lie down for an hour. You don’t want to look jaded before we even get to Lady Fitzallen’s.”

Lavinia acquiesced with good grace. To tell the truth she longed for nothing more than to spend a quiet evening at home mulling over the events of the day, in order to find some way out of the impasse she found herself in. For a second the Earl’s countenance swam mockingly before her eyes, and she clenched her hands. The arrogance of the man. Well, he would not get the better of her.

Chapter Four

A few hours later. Lavinia sat in front other mirror watching Mary, her maid, pile her gleaming ringlets into a confection of tumbling curls and silken ribbons. On the bed lay her gown. A froth of sea-green and silver, a splash of elegance against the rich baroque style favoured by Lady Elizabeth. Indeed as she had confided in Lavinia shortly after the latter’s arrival in London. she lived in constant hope of being invited to view the magnificent structure Horace Walpole was having built out at Strawberry Hill.

Mary stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Powder, Miss?” she enquired. “Perhaps the new grey My Lady purchased the other day?”

Lavinia shook her head resolutely. “No, I think not, Mary.” She wrinkled her nose alittle. “I always feel as if I am walking in a cloud of dust. No, leave it as it is.”

“To be sure, ‘tis a vastly pretty colour, Miss. I vow there won’t be another lady at the rout to touch you …”

Lavinia’s eyes twinkled. “You flatter me, Mary.”

Before she could say any more, a slight rustling at the door heralded the arrival of Lady Elizabeth. “Ah good, you are nearly ready, my love. ” She stopped short as she saw her cousin’s russet locks. “You are never going unpowdered. Oh, Lavinia, you will be thought the veriest country dowd.”

Lavinia laughed gaily. “I care not.”

Lady Elizabeth looked a trifle doubtful. “It will be thought vastly odd of you, to be sure. You must remember that you are in London now,” she reproved. She eyed her cousin a little curiously. The girl had visited Saltaire of all people.

Lavinia’s thoughts were running on similar lines. Despite her apparent gaiety, she could not forget the events of the afternoon. lf Richard were to find out … She bit her lip. She did not want him to lose his life in some senseless duel. If only she had not been so foolish.

“Lavinia?”

She looked up. “Oh, I’m sorry, cousin. I wasjust thinking of the matter we were discussing this afternoon.”

Lady Elizabeth frowned warningly at Mary’s back. Say anything in the servants’ hearing and it was common knowledge in the town within the space of a morning.

Lavinia, correctly interpreting her cousin’s glance, said, “Please don’t say a word to Richard.”

“No-we can’t have him doing anything foolish like calling Saltaire out.”

Since these were precisely Lavinia’s own thoughts, her cousin’s words did nothing to uplift her feelings, and she had to content herself with saying coldly, “I assure you, Madam, there is no possible reason for my brother to do any such thing.”

“No, no, indeed not,” hastily averred Lady Elizabeth. “I’m sure I never meant any such thing, but these young boys …”

Richard’s voice in the hall below put an end to the discussion. Lady Elizabeth gave a last anxious glance in the mirror. “This rouge, I vow it makes me look positively hagridden. What do you think, Lavinia?”

Lavinia smiled fondly. “You look very well, cousin. I’m sure your head will cause quite a stir.”

Lady Elizabeth patted it complacently. “To be sure, ‘tis the very latest from Paris, there will be nothing to touch it.”

Her hair was indeed, to say the very least, eye catching. It towered above Lady Elizabeth’s head, festooned with ribbons, fruit and flowers and bedecked with a stuffed bird of doubtful plumage, which she had assured the awestruck Lavinia was quite definitely all the rage.

As the two ladies descended the stairs in a cloud of bergamot and rustling silk, Richard was pacing the floor of the hall, glancing from time to time at the fine fob watch he had in his hand.

“Ah, there you are. About time too,” he greeted them.

“Richard, do you come with us to Lady Fitzallen’s?” enquired Lavinia.

“No,” Richard shook his head, his eyes fixed pleadingly on his sister’s face. “I’m engaged to join Charles.”

Seeing her slightly perturbed expression, he cast her a sheepish look.

“Never fear, Lavinia, I have learned my lesson. No gaming I promise. Did you see Hoare?”

Her voice slightly muffled, Lavinia replied, “Yes. Fortunately there was more than sufficient to cover your debts. I have instructed Mr. Hoare to send a draft off on your behalf.” As she spoke these words, she could not look her brother in the face, and truth to tell, what with her headache, and Lady Elizabeth’s expostulations on her folly, and her own acknowledgement of the truth of that lady’s comments, she was feeling too low to care whether Richard accompanied them or not.

At length, the ladies settled in the carriage, they were soon on their way. Lavinia could derive no enjoyment from the wearing of a gown that until that moment had filled her

with delight. Indeed, so wretched did she feel, that had someone waved a wand and transported her back to her grandmother’s dank palaccio, she would have gone down on her knees and thanked them. Fortunately it was dark inside the coach and hid her expression from Lady Elizabeth’s sharp eyes. The occasional fitful light from the flambeaux outside the houses illuminated the interior and cast lurid shadows, making Lady Elizabeth’s diamonds glitter in a most satisfactory manner. She pulled her cloak round her firmly, tucking her feet inside the warm fur footmuff. “Why on earth must Lady Fitzallen choose to live out here?” she grumbled. “‘Tis vastly inconvenient. I swear this ride has shaken me quite to pieces.”

Lavinia sat still and said nothing. The coach began to pick up speed as they left the city streets behind and started to cross the open common. She closed her eyes and immediately wished she had not, for straightaway rose before her eyes the image of a saturnine mocking face. She shivered a little, causing Lady Elizabeth to lean forward anxiously, “Lavinia …”

Before she could say anything more, the sound of a pistol shot outside brought both ladies to the edge of their seats. The carriage swerved and jerked to a halt, flinging Lady Elizabeth asprawl across Lavinia’s lap. As she righted herself, putting anxious hands to her head, they could hear muffled oaths, high pitched whinnying from the horses, and the sounds of activity near the coach.

Lady Elizabeth looked at Lavinia in consternation. “˜There,” she moaned. “I knew it was foolish to come this far out of town at night. These wretched highwaymen. I fear we have been held up and the postilion with nothing but an old blunderbuss. “

The sounds outside drew nearer. The ladies exchanged nervous glances, their horrified eyes fixed on the door, which was slowly opening. Lady Elizabeth all atremble, fiddled with the clasp of her diamonds. “Quickly, child, take off your emeralds,” she urged. “Give them to the odious wretch. Oh ‘tis monstrous, to arrive at the rout without so much as an earring between us.”

Lavinia, trying to conceal her agitation, watched breathlessly as the shape of a man loomed up in the open door. “Forgive me for discommoding you, ladies.”

Lavinia’s eyes flew straightaway to the man’s face, which was hidden by the hat he was wearing pulled low over his forehead, and the scarf he had round his mouth. He was dressed entirely in black, from his tricorn to the elegantly booted feet, one of which rested on the floor of the carriage. Lavinia’s heart gave a frightened bound. She surely recognised that lazily drawling voice. He leaned towards Lavinia. a pistol held menacingly in one hand, aware of her fear and acknowledging it with a mocking inclination of his head.

“Do not fear, Lady Elizabeth, I do not want your diamonds. You may rest assured on that point at least,” he assured the shrinking woman, who was far too shocked to wonder at the strangeness of the highwayman knowing her name.

“Not want them,” she managed to murmur feebly. “Why they cost my poor Cedric all of ten thousand guineas,” she gasped, outrage overcoming her fear.

“Perhaps you have a fancy for emeralds then?” asked Lavinia grimly.

The masked face turned briefly in her direction. “Not your emeralds, Madam.”

Her cheeks burned afresh at his tone, but she had no time to say more for Lady Elizabeth was asking in bewilderment, “What do you want then?,’ A sudden thought struck her. “Oh never say you are one of those odious Mohocks come to hold us up for a wager?”

Lavinia felt rather than saw his smile.

“You are becoming a little warmer, My Lady. However, I fear I cannot waste time whilst we play guessing games, much though I am enjoying our conversation. I shall therefore satisfy your curiosity.”

Lavinia felt her throat constrict with fear, as she sensed the menacing intent behind the seemingly casual words.

“It is your cousin I want, and indeed mean to have.”

Lavinia clenched her teeth on her lip to prevent it trembling, as Lady Elizabeth fell back, her body shaking with indignation. “What manner of robbery is this?” she asked.

“I shall not go,” announced Lavinia, fixing her eyes on the intruder, determined not to let him undermine what was left of her courage, only to gasp in dismay as the muzzle of a pistol was placed against Lady Elizabeth’s temple, the man’s eyes hardening.

“Oh, but I think you will, Madam,” said the man softly, this time making no attempt to hide the menace of his words, “otherwise Lady Elizabeth…”

There was no need to say more. Lady Elizabeth shuddered, her terrified eyes clinging to Lavinia’s face. “Have mercy, Sir, I implore you,” she pleaded.

The man laughed mockingly. “If you knew me, Madam, you would know better than to ask for mercy. I am not known for possessing such a quality.”

The dull metal of the pistol glinted malevolently against Lady Elizabeth’s skin, as her tremors grew, and Lavinia’s lips tightened in a hard line. There was no doubt that he meant what he said. He turned again to Lavinia. “Well, Miss Davenham.”

She avoided his gaze, feeling as though the cold eyes could penetrate her mind and read her thoughts. Holding her head high, she asked coldly, “What alternative do I have?”

He acknowledged her words with a smile. “None, I fear. It is either me or death.”

Despite herself she could not repress a small shudder, her eyes widening slightly in horror, but nevertheless she managed to ask stiffly, “And if I choose death?”

There was a momentary silence and his eyes narrowed. When he spoke again his voice was colder than she had ever heard it before, “That, Miss Davenham, would be exceedingly foolish, both for yourself and for Lady Elizabeth.”

Lavinia bit her lip, acknowledging to herself the truth of his words; she could not endanger her cousin.

Seeing Lavinia’s pale, set face, Lady Elizabeth interrupted hastily, “I had heard you highwaymen were vastly chivalrous. Has the honour of two poor females no meaning for you?”

“None at all.” rejoined the other coolly. “However, if it puts your mind at rest, I mean your cousin no harm.” His teeth flashed in a mocking smile as he caught Lavinia’s contemptuous glance.

“I don’t understand,” whispered Lady Elizabeth, the terror still plain upon her face, as she glanced nervously at the pistol.

“All in due time. Lady Elizabeth, and now, Miss Davenham, I fear we are wasting time.”

“And you have no desire to be interrupted,” she flashed back at him.

He inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. “I see we understand one another. Now if you are ready …”

Temper gleamed afresh in her eyes at this parody of courtesy, and instinctively she shrank back against the cushions but to no avail. An unpleasantly strong arm gripped her firmly round the waist, making a mockery of her struggles. His breath was a cold whisper against her hair, “Come, Madam, you are making yourself foolish and it will accomplish nothing, but if you prefer it, doubtless I could render you unconscious.”

Lavinia ceased her struggles to stare blindly up at him, shivering at the careless manner in which he issued the threat, the knowledge that he was quite capable of carrying out his words striking cold against her heart. The pistol never wavered, remaining firmly pointed at Lady Elizabeth, and Lavinia found herself in the ignominious position of coming frighteningly close to his dark presence.

Lady Elizabeth, with a courage Lavinia had not guessed at, threatened, “Lord Arnedale shall learn of this insult to his sister.”

BOOK: A Wager for Love
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