Almost Perfect (25 page)

Roland made a worried sound and took a step closer to her. “Didn’t you hear me, Cassie? I told you to go back inside.”

Cassie looked at her father. He wore no hat and his white hair danced around his head in the wind. Just now his skin was as pale as his hair, even his lips. His blood-sodden sleeve clung to his arm.

“You’re the one who should go in,” she replied softly. “You’re hurt.” A flicker of gratitude for him woke in her. No matter what her father had done wrong in the past, he’d come out here intent on stopping Lord Bucksden. That was more than he’d attempted in London when the earl had first come to claim Eliza.

“It’s nothing,” her father retorted, then urged again, “go.”

Lord Ryecroft crossed the porch to stand at Cassie’s side. Unlike his noble cousin the expression on the tall earl’s handsome face was warm, even sympathetic. He offered a small smile, filling the movement of his mouth with the promise of protection. Then he looked down at the men below the porch floor.

“Heavens, Bucksden,” he drawled, “I fear I’m all adither in confusion. Can you make it clear for me? Why would you come to Lady Forster’s house armed and is it one or both of Conningsby’s daughters you want to take against his will? Lastly, why ever would you want to take either of them? I must warn you. I won’t stand for Mrs. Marston and her sister leaving my party. It would make a shambles of the event. Too many men,” he finished with a shudder, as if an unbalanced ratio between the sexes at his party was a fate worse than death.

“Stay out of this, Ryecroft,” Lord Bucksden warned, his voice flat but lacking the note of threat he’d aimed at her.

“But how can I?” Lord Ryecroft protested. “Mrs. Marston and Miss Elizabeth are integral to my party. If they leave, then whatever shall we do about our little play? Both have parts in it, and their absence would put an end to our little drama when I’m just beginning to enjoy it. I fear the show cannot go on without them.”

Cassie frowned. What little play? There’d been talk of amateur theatrics among Eliza’s new group of friends, but as yet nothing had come of it. They hadn’t even chosen a drama to enact.

“What good are you?” Roland snapped, sending a raging glance in Lord Ryecroft’s direction, startling Cassie. “All you care about is your party, not protecting my daughters.”

Pivoting, Roland snatched Alex’s unloaded pistol from where the big man had tucked it into his belt. Roland pointed the useless weapon at Lord Bucksden. His arm quivered, the muzzle of the pistol dancing along with it. “Here and now, my lord. If you want them, take them from me,” he demanded.

Cassie gasped in understanding. Her father’s solution to their dilemma was to provoke Lord Bucksden to do murder. His murder.

“Put the pistol down, Sir Roland,” Lord Ryecroft said gently, leaning over to catch the older man’s shivering arm. “Even if Lord Bucksden has another pistol I seriously doubt he intends to accommodate you.”

Making a desperate sound, Roland yanked free of Lord Ryecroft’s grip. The effort unbalanced him. He staggered forward, stopping too close to the edge of the porch.

“No, he has to shoot me! This is my fault. God help me I was drunk. I don’t even remember making the wager. All I recall is those two blighters of his,” he aimed his trembling pistol hand in the direction of Lord Bucksden’s servants, “dropping me off at my step, telling me to prepare to give up my daughter when the earl came for her at eleven.”

Lord Ryecroft lunged for her father, moving more quickly than Cassie thought possible for so indolent a man. He wrenched the pistol from Roland’s bloody fingers then pulled the knight back from the porch’s edge. Roland cried out, fighting to free himself.

“I beg your pardon Sir Roland, but I cannot let you do that,” Lord Ryecroft said and released him.

Roland’s knees gave way. This time, Alex caught him, steadying him on his feet. “No,” Roland whispered in defeat, his face ashen, his eyes swimming.

“Take Sir Roland into the house and see to that injury,” Lord Ryecroft commanded Philana’s parker then waited as Alex half-dragged Roland to the door. It creaked open to admit them, then shut again, leaving Cassie alone with Lord Ryecroft on the porch.

The tall earl again turned his attention on Lord Bucksden and his cousin. “Now my thoughts truly swim, Bucksden. Did I hear Conningsby aright? You and he gambled over the possession of an innocent girl?” he said, a touch of disgust in his voice. “By God, but that’s cheeky even for you.”

“You heard Conningsby. This is none of your concern, Ryecroft,” Lord Bucksden retorted. His tone might have been casual--any other man would have been shouting in outrage at such a slur--but the earl’s pretense of calm didn’t mean that he wasn’t seething. The depth of his irritation showed in the way he turned his neck against the binding of his collar and neckcloth.

“Having heard Conningsby’s confession, I think we’re obligated to question,” Lucien said, speaking as if he didn’t already know what her father had done. That made Cassie glance at him, wondering. There was nothing for her to see except Lucien’s expressionless face.

“No matter what Conningsby says he did make that wager, on that you have my word. Should that not be enough for you,” Lord Bucksden sent a burning sidelong look at Lucien, “then know that the wager was witnessed and registered at our club. For the record I didn’t suggest the terms. Conningsby freely offered his daughter to me when I mentioned that I’d seen her on the street and admired her.”

Perhaps it was because Cassie had come out here armed with the solution to their dilemma that Eliza had unwittingly offered. Or, perhaps it was because this was another sort of game, although one far more intricate than Speculation. Whatever it was, Cassie found herself watching Lord Bucksden as if he were already seated across a card table from her.

She read the earl’s bluff in the aggressive jut of his jaw and the faint narrowing of his eyes. Roland hadn’t offered him Eliza. That didn’t mean Roland hadn’t agreed to the suggestion of putting Eliza on the table, especially if he’d been drunk. But their father hadn’t gone into the game planning to use his daughter as ante the way Cassie now meant to do.

That Cassie could read Lord Bucksden as easily as she did any other card player gave her the confidence she’d lacked a moment ago. This was going to work. If she’d defeated Lucien at cards, she could surely defeat Lord Bucksden.

Buoyed, she stepped closer to the porch’s edge. “My lord, perhaps you can understand why we resist you, given my father’s insistence that he doesn’t remember making the wager,” she said, seeing no need to mention that she’d only heard Roland’s confession this very moment. “I’d like to offer you a way to resolve the whole matter, once and for all. Consider a second game, one between you and me. Possession of Eliza will be on the table. If I win, you must release any and all claims to her. If I lose, you may do with her as you wish.”

And, what of Lord Bucksden’s plans for her? The game didn’t address that. One crisis at a time. Eliza had to be safe.

Beside Cassie Lord Ryecroft sucked in a startled breath. For an instant Lord Bucksden looked almost horrified, glancing between his fellow noblemen then all expression left his face. As for Lucien’s reaction to her challenge Cassie had no clue. He was bent behind Mr. Percy’s horse, doing something with the girth’s buckle.

Anger sparked. That arrogant, useless, selfish nobleman! What did she need with a man who fiddled with riding gear at the very moment she risked her sister’s life on the gaming table? Lucien was unworthy of her, not the other way around. Let him offer his settlement. She’d throw it back in his face, even if that meant living out her life in the direst of poverty.

Lord Bucksden thrust his hands into his overcoat pockets in unwitting show of resentment. At first Cassie thought it was because he didn’t like that Lucien and Lord Ryecroft now knew the terms of his wager with her father. While Lord Bucksden might not like the tale of wagering over Eliza spreading, it would hardly hang over his head like that sword over Damocles. This was a man who had more than once ridden the crest of scandal and paid no price for what he did.

Again, the earl glanced from Lucien to Lord Ryecroft. His brow furrowed as deeply as his bruising allowed. Philana and Eliza had insisted that Lucien’s and Lord Ryecroft’s presence here was a godsend, that presenting her challenge while they listened would change everything, giving them permission to participate in Eliza’s fate. Cassie wasn’t certain she believed them. Now, she waited to see if they were right.

Lord Bucksden turned his gaze onto her, his eyes as narrow as the stitching at the right one’s corner would allow. The wind gusted, toying with what black hair escaped his bandage. It swirled his overcoat’s hem around his boots. One of his servants spat. The other shifted impatiently. Mr. Percy’s horse stamped and tossed her head, trying to escape Lucien’s grip on her bridle.

Slow, vicious pleasure filled in the earl’s gaze. “I see no reason to risk my possession of Miss Elizabeth in another game. My wager with Sir Roland was recorded and witnessed. I won. Your sister is rightfully mine, a fact to which Lord Graceton and Lord Ryecroft must stand as witness. Bring her to me, Mrs. Marston. Now.”

Panic shot through Cassie. Philana and Eliza were wrong. Having two noble witnesses to her challenge was a catastrophe. Now, Lord Bucksden would use the strict code that ruled wagers to prize Eliza out of Philana’s house.

“I don’t think we can stand aside and let you take Miss Elizabeth,” Lucien replied, his voice harsh.

Relief almost weakened Cassie’s knees. Whatever Lucien thought of her, he wasn’t going to turn his back and let this happen. Cassie looked at him, ready to forgive him much, only to have gratitude crash into disgust at herself. Lucien was glaring daggers at Lord Bucksden while Lord Bucksden returned the sentiment in full. How could she have forgotten their shared history? Lucien didn’t care a whit about Eliza. All he wanted was a way to hurt Lord Bucksden.

“You have no choice in the matter,” Bucksden snapped. “The wager’s registered. It is legitimate.”

“So you say,” Lucien snarled, “but how can we know that unless we make a trip to London to see the register?”

The intimation that he might be lying made Lord Bucksden rise onto the balls of his feet in preparation for attack. In the next instant his heels flattened back onto the ground. Cassie read the earl in surprise. Lord Bucksden thought Lucien was arranging a trap for him.

Her disgust grew. The earl couldn’t be more wrong. Lucien didn’t care what happened to her or her sister. If he had, then he’d have been up here on the porch and at her side as his cousin was.

“But Hollier, why should anyone have to ride to London for anything?” Lord Ryecroft asked, his handsome face alight as if in inspiration. “We can resolve everything here in no longer than an hour’s time. It’s all so easy, Bucksden,” he said to his fellow earl, his voice alive with boyish enthusiasm. “Accept Mrs. Marston’s challenge. Once the two of you have played there can be no question as to who placed what wager and who won. Once you’ve taken the match we’ll have no choice but to let you leave unhindered with Miss Elizabeth.”

“Why should I play a second game when I’ve already won the first?” Lord Bucksden demanded.

“But, you seemed in such a hurry to claim Miss Elizabeth. Now that the wager has been placed in doubt we’d be doing less than our duty if we allowed you to take her until a man rides to London and back to verify that all is as you say it is. Not that we don’t believe you,” Lord Ryecroft qualified, holding his hands, the quintessential peacemaker. “Play the game and be done with it as Mrs. Marston says, once and for all,” he persisted.

Confidence roared back through Cassie. It took all her will not to press her hand to her chest to calm her racing heart. Thank God for Lord Ryecroft. How could Lord Bucksden refuse now when the proposal so obviously served him?

Lord Bucksden shot that wary glance around him, still expecting a trap. He looked to his servants. The taller one gave a half shrug.

“Devanney, I cannot agree to this unless I know Miss Elizabeth is a willing participant,” Lucien said as Mr. Percy’s horse again sidled and fought his hold on her bridle.

As he sought to calm the horse Lucien’s gaze flickered in her direction. Cassie thought she saw softness in his eyes.

“Well, Mrs. Marston?” Lucien asked irritably. “Invite Miss Elizabeth to join us, so she can tell us what her will in all this is.”

She was wrong. Cassie huffed, horrified by herself. What a lovesick fool she was, putting expressions on the face of a man who didn’t want her. She turned toward the door.

Young Rob Laidlaw peered out at her through the crack between door and jamb. At her nod he moved aside, opening the door. Eliza stepped out, looking pale and frightened but calm, then Rob closed the door behind her. She swept forward to join Cassie. Only the tightness of her joined hands revealed how terrified she was.

“This is worse than anything I imagined,” she whispered to Cassie then offered a brief curtsy to the gathered peers. “My lords, I am willing to abide by the terms of this wager.”

Lord Bucksden’s gaze locked onto Eliza’s face. Lust heated his eyes. Then his gaze drifted downward in lewd appraisal of Eliza’s form.

“A few hands of cards,” Lord Ryecroft said, his tone light as if it weren’t the rest of Eliza’s life being decided by this match, “and all is resolved.”

Lord Bucksden tore his attention off Eliza to frown at his fellow earl. “You would vow to uphold the terms of the wager?”

“Absolutely,” Lord Ryecroft answered without hesitation. “You win, and Miss Elizabeth leaves with you. Mrs. Marston and her father must swear not to attempt to reclaim her. If Mrs. Marston wins, you must swear to give up all claim to Miss Elizabeth, making no further attempt to take her from her family.”

“Graceton as well?” the earl snarled, shooting a burning glance at Lucien.

“I would so vow,” Lucien replied.

“There is one thing, however,” Lord Ryecroft said, tapping his chin with his forefinger. “It’s such an odd wager. I think for everyone’s security it would be best if the game were played before as many witnesses as possible. I can think of no better place to stage it at the moment than Ryecroft Castle, what with all my guests presently in residence. Now I know you cannot like this, Miss Elizabeth,” the handsome earl man said, offering Eliza a quick smile, “but there’s no reason to announce the terms of the wager. The other witnesses only need know that the ante on the table is of a personal nature.”

This time it wasn’t suspicion but fear that plagued Lord Bucksden. He took a backward step. “I prefer not to make a public appearance at the moment.”

The wave of Lord Ryecroft’s hand dismissed his bruising. “I know you’ve done your best to be circumspect since you arrived, but when an injured earl appears in one of the local villages it doesn’t take long for news to spread. Everyone at my party already knows about your--how shall we say?--temporary disfiguration?”

A tiny smile lifted the corners of Lord Ryecroft’s mouth. “Tut Bucksden, it’s too late to be shy. Rather than hide, strut boldly into my door and tell them all about your experience in the boxing ring. Anything else will free people to fabricate their own explanations for your injuries. How the rumors already run!”

Lord Bucksden’s chin jerked up in insulted reaction. Beside Cassie, Eliza turned her laugh into a cough. Cassie bit her lips to keep from smiling. How cleverly Lord Ryecroft used words to drive Lord Bucksden where he wanted him. Either Lord Bucksden agreed to play their game at Ryecroft Castle, or he would seem a coward.

His brow again furrowed, at least a little, Lord Bucksden’s gaze slipped back to the porch and Eliza. “Who attends this party of yours, Ryecroft?” he asked, watching her.

“There are a number of locals whose names will mean nothing to you,” Lord Ryecroft replied, “but you’ll know Percy from the tables, I think. And perhaps Colonel Egremont, Sussex’s nephew?”

Lord Bucksden gave a brusque nod at that, his gaze still fixed on Eliza. The intensity of his look drove Eliza to shift subtly to the side, half-hiding behind Cassie. Cassie stifled her urge to clasp her sister in her arms. It was pointless to try and protect her now.

“Oh and there’s my great aunt, of course,” Lord Ryecroft added as if in afterthought when Cassie doubted anyone could ever forget Eleanor.

Lord Bucksden tore his gaze off Eliza to look at Lord Ryecroft in surprise. “The duchess of Carlisle attends?”

“Lord, but how could I have forgotten how well you and my Aunt Eleanor know each other?” Lucien’s cousin said, shaking his head at himself. “The two of you have often been companions at the table in London, haven’t you? I dare say she’ll be pleased to see you, even bruised as you are. She’s lamented the lack of quality at my party.”

Again, Lord Bucksden turned his gaze on Eliza. His bruising wasn’t enough to hide the depths of his desire for her. Then, the earl looked at Cassie. Emotions flashed across his body, if not his face. His shoulders tensed in consideration, then relaxed into satisfaction.

Cassie read him with ease. Lord Bucksden was not only utterly certain that he would win, he intended to enjoy besting her, then walking away with her sister, knowing the pain it would cause her.

No, it was more than that. What most intrigued the earl about this match were the witnesses. As much as Lord Bucksden desired Eliza, what he wanted more was to take her from Cassie, doing it in front of witness who, if they but knew what was happening before their eyes, might have tried to stop him.

Cassie’s confidence grew. Lucien had also believed he could easily beat her, and she’d taken his money from him. It was vicious and wrong, but Cassie hoped the earl hadn’t heard about her game with Lucien from any of the locals he might have interviewed. As much as Lord Bucksden craved hurting her she craved his angry astonishment when he realized he faced a capable player. She hoarded the image of him raging and beaten for a second time by a woman he dismissed as beneath him.

Below the porch, Lord Bucksden bowed. “My lords, I accept Mrs. Marston’s challenge and am willing to join her at Ryecroft Castle for this game.”

“There’s one last thing,” Lucien said, no inflection in his voice. “I think it only fair that Lord Bucksden be warned. Mrs. Marston is a more than capable cardswoman.”

Cassie’s precious image of the defeated and raging earl exploded. Her anger at Lucien roared into an inferno. What sort of cad was he? She’d taken his point well enough at the tower when he turned his back on her. He didn’t have to actively try to hurt her.

Lucien’s warning gave Lord Bucksden pause. He frowned up at her as if he thought he could gauge the level of her skill by studying her face. Cassie offered him what Eliza called their nitwit expression, one that combined the batting of eyelashes over expressionless eyes while curving the mouth into a ninnyhammer’s simpering smile.

It worked. The earl shot a burning look at Lucien, every line of his body saying he believed Lucien gave the warning to shake his confidence. “When shall we meet?” Lord Bucksden demanded of the master of Ryecroft Castle.

“Why now, of course,” that man replied, looking every inch the congenial host. “This card game will be the perfect diversion for my guests and just as dramatic as any play, I think. If Lady Forster doesn’t mind sending a man ahead to warn my household what to expect, we can all ride over together. That is agreeable to you Mrs. Marston, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Cassie replied, surprised that she sounded so calm when fire filled her lungs.

Taking her sister’s arm she started for the house. Lucien wasn’t content to simply abandon her this time. He wanted to shove her over the edge of that awful precipice to her doom. Well, he’d tried his worst and failed. Now it was her turn to act. She intended to come out the victor over both these insufferable, conceited noblemen.