Amanda Scott (19 page)

“Charlotte, come away from there,” Lady Ophelia commanded. “A lady does not gawk out of windows at passers-by. I quite despair of you sometimes, my dear.”

“No, do you, ma’am?” But Melissa saw that her cousin’s eyes were twinkling, and Charley said mischievously, “Don’t trouble yourself this time. The gentleman is too busy keeping his head under his coat to look up and see me.”

By the time their visitor was announced, however, she was seated demurely beside Melissa on a sofa, pretending to apply herself to a waistcoat panel she was embroidering for her grandfather.

“Mr. Oliver Barrington, my lady.”

All three ladies exchanged speaking glances.

Mr. Barrington had given his outer garments to the butler, and his well-cut blue coat and gray pantaloons looked fairly dry, but his hair curled damply. When Lady Ophelia welcomed him, he said with a laugh, “You behold me dashed well nearly drowned, ma’am, and my neckcloth has wilted. I must look a sight.”

“No worse than usual,” Charley said with a wry smile as she set her embroidery aside, “but how brave of you to risk your attire, sir, merely to pay us a call.”

He looked sharply at her, saying with a curious look, “By Jove, you are the oddest female I’ve ever encountered. I am sure I’ve never known another one to say the sort of things you do. My brother says you want conduct, but—”

“Does he indeed,” Charley interjected sweetly, “and what does he say of your conduct, Mr. Barrington?”

Melissa tried to think of a diverting comment to make before either of them said something unforgivable, but before she could think of one, Oliver flushed and said hastily, “You are quite right, of course.” Turning to Lady Ophelia, he added, “I behaved badly last night, ma’am, and I’ve come to make my apologies. Don’t know what came over me to abandon you like Nick says I did. I was just there alongside you one moment, and off with my own friends the next. Daresay I plum forgot where I was and who I was with. Won’t happen again, I assure you.”

“Oh, very pretty,” Charley said.

Lady Ophelia said, “Hush, Charlotte. You are putting Melissa to the blush again. Not but what Charlotte is quite right, young man. You were doing well enough with your apology until your candor overcame your good manners. Honesty is all very well in its place, but you are scarcely demonstrating proper remorse for your behavior.”

“Well, don’t tell that to Nick,” Oliver said quickly. “Dash it, I’m no hand at this sort of thing, and so he ought to know, but he said I had to come and make my best apology before he gets here. Oh, yes,” he added, glancing from one surprised face to the next, “he’s coming at five to fetch you to dine at Barrington House. It’s in all the papers that he’s going to buckle himself to Miss Seacourt, so it stands to reason he wants to present her to the parents straightaway. All of you are invited to dine, of course. I’m to be there, too, they said, even though a special friend of mine should arrive in town tonight, and I had made other plans.”

“Well, I can’t go,” Charley said, adding with a quick look at Lady Ophelia, “I don’t mean to be rude, ma’am, but you will recall that I am promised to Lady Sefton tonight for her party to the play at Drury Lane. I can easily go to Sefton House on my own, however. My maid will accompany me, and once I get there, I shall be in good hands. You must go with Lissa, of course. But, Mr. Barrington, it is now only twenty past three. Surely, you do not intend to sit with us for nearly two hours!”

“Don’t see why not,” he said. “Raining too hard for you to shove a fellow out the door, especially one who didn’t come in his own carriage. Moreover, Nick expects me to be here. My position in this was a bit tricky, don’t you see? Could scarcely wait till twenty minutes of five before telling you he would collect you at five.”

Lady Ophelia said disapprovingly, “He ought to have sent a note round to us.”

Oliver reddened. “Well, ma’am, the fact is that Mama intended to write a proper invitation, but Nick said he would take care of inviting you, and then I offered to bring his message round so he could attend to procuring the special license and such. Thought it would give me a way to ease into my apology, you see. Didn’t expect Miss Tarrant to put me at a stand the moment I came in.”

“And when did he expect you to deliver his message?” Charley asked.

Oliver glowered at her. “I didn’t ask him, if you must know, just said I’d bring it round. Now that I think about it, he might well have thought I’d bring it straightaway, before noon, though he ought to have known I ain’t well enough acquainted with you yet to pay a call so early in the day. I had other things to do, in any event, so I’ll thank you not to throw a spoke in my wheel. He was fierce enough before.”

“Are you frightened of your own brother?” Charley asked.

“Not in the least,” Oliver said stoutly. “Not now that my father’s back in town, at all events. But Nick can make things dashed uncomfortable for a fellow.”

Melissa, feeling that it was more than time to change the subject, said quietly, “I doubt if we shall have any other callers if this rain keeps up. Perhaps, Charley, you can think of something we might do to entertain ourselves.”

Lady Ophelia stood up. “I want to finish my journal entry. I’ve got behind these past two days and must catch up, and I must also change to my evening dress. Melissa, you and Charlotte ought to change now, too. We need not stand on ceremony with Mr. Barrington, since he will soon be a member of the family and can certainly look after himself for half an hour. Then you young people can think of something to entertain you until Vexford arrives—perhaps a game of some sort.”

“By Jove,” Oliver said, “cards would be the very thing! I can show you some famous tricks I’ve learned. I’ll practice while you two change your clothes.”

Obligingly, Charley pulled a table away from the wall, and found a pack of cards for him. Then the two young women went upstairs and hastily changed their attire for the evening. When they returned, they found that Oliver had drawn up two more chairs to the table, and that someone had provided him with a glass of sherry.

For the next hour, Melissa and Charley watched, fascinated, while he showed them a number of card tricks. When they complimented him on his skill, he said, “Oh, I’m a dab hand with the cards, right enough. You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve learned. Look, I even carry my own pack with me.” To their astonishment, he withdrew a pack of cards from his waistcoat pocket.

Indignantly, Charley said, “Then why did you make me look for new cards?”

“Well, these are special,” Oliver said, winking at her, “not the sort one uses for simple parlor tricks, and certainly not with ladies of quality. Here, I’ll show you. You and I will play a hand of piquet, and Miss Seacourt can watch. See if you can observe what I do, Miss Seacourt.” He gave her a speculative look, then said, “Look here, we’re soon to be brother and sister, like Lady Ophelia said. May I call you Melissa?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, shooting a speaking look at Charley.

That damsel said quickly, “Just don’t call me Charlotte, Oliver. I’m Charley to my friends.”

“Good,” he said, “now watch this. I’ll wager you won’t, either of you, see anything amiss.”

Nor did they, although when he had won the third hand in a row, Charley said curtly, “You play the next hand with him, Melissa. My luck is either completely out or he is doing something quite unthinkable. If it’s the latter case, I mean to catch him if I have to watch every move he makes.”

But although she watched carefully, he continued to win, and she soon admitted defeat. At last, with a laugh, Oliver spread the cards out in front of them on the table and said, “Examine them closely if you like.”

They obeyed, turning the cards over and holding them up to the light. They looked like any other cards. At last Melissa smiled, shook her head, and said, “You must be doing something very clever, Oliver. Please show us.”

Grinning, he gathered the cards again, shuffled them, and began dealing them into a pile face down, one at a time. As he did, he turned up four cards, apparently at random. Each was an ace. When he flipped the fourth one, Melissa and Charley said together in bewildered amazement, “How did you do that?”

“Want to see the kings?” Oliver asked smugly.

Melissa chuckled. “Odious boy. How do you do it?”

Grinning, he said, “They’re fuzzed—shaved a bit on the ends and sides. I got them from a good friend of mine. When one plays with such a pack, one cannot lose.”

“You cheated!” Again the two voices spoke as one.

“No such thing,” he retorted. “We weren’t playing for money. I was just showing you some card tricks. Any sensible chap has to learn about such things in order to be up to snuff, after all.”

Confused, Melissa said, “I certainly don’t understand the rules in London, sir. Is cheating not the same thing here as it is everywhere else?”

“Cheating is cheating, of course,” Oliver said in a tone of one explaining a complex matter to persons of smaller mind than himself. “The thing is that if one wants to
avoid
being cheated, one has to be up to every rig and row in town. There are men—not gentlemen, of course—who don’t hesitate to cheat at cards or at dice. One finds them frequently in the gaming hells, and the plain fact is that the best defense against such flat-catchers is for a fellow to know how they do the tricks.”

“Ought a lady to know these things, as well?” Melissa asked.

Chuckling, he said, “What, to win at silver loo?” Then a thought seemed to strike him. With a look of pure mischief, he added, “Of course, if the lady were to marry a gamester of high renown who practically never, ever loses, and who ought to be taught a small lesson in humility, she might do worse than to learn to use such a pack as this—just for that one occasion, mind you.”

Looking at Charley and seeing her own understanding of what Oliver was suggesting reflected in that maiden’s roguish grin, Melissa felt a ripple of unholy amusement. To be able to beat Vexford at his own game, just once, would be glorious. He had said he liked ladies who knew the rules and could play with confidence. She knew the rules for whist and piquet and other such popular games, and generally played them well, but she did not think she was skilled enough to beat a man who bore the reputation of being both highly skilled and very lucky. “Would he not know at once that I was using such a pack?” she asked.

Oliver shook his head. “Bound to fool him,” he said. “Fact is, he wouldn’t think for a moment that you knew the first thing about fuzzed cards. Wouldn’t do to make a habit of it, mind. Just the one time, privately, long enough to beat him. Then never again. I’ll make you a wedding gift of this pack. Here, this is how it’s done.”

By the time Vexford arrived, both Melissa and Charley had learned all that Oliver could teach them. Neither thought herself his equal at deftly managing the pack of cards, but he had declared them skilled enough to recognize an attempt on the part of anyone else to cheat them. That, after all, as he loftily reminded them, was the real point of the exercise. He also expressed his firm conviction that Melissa could now fool Vexford long enough to beat him at a single game of piquet.

The pack of fuzzed cards disappeared into Melissa’s reticule the moment they heard Vexford’s carriage draw up outside. By the time the butler announced him, the card table had disappeared and the three conspirators were innocently discussing the likelihood of the rain continuing into the next day. Since, as they soon learned, he had received word within the past hour that his horse Quiz had won its Newmarket race, he was in an excellent humor, and the topic of conversation turned naturally to horses.

Melissa, Lady Ophelia, and the two gentlemen soon departed for Barrington House, where dinner proved more comfortable than Melissa had expected. Ulcombe, a man nearly as tall as, and much heavier than, his elder son, was even higher in the instep, but his manners were extremely cordial, and the same twinkle that lurked in Oliver’s eyes lurked in his when he congratulated Vexford on his Newmarket win.

Lady Ulcombe, plump and cheerful, greeted Lady Ophelia as an old friend, and warmly welcomed Melissa to the family.

The meal was excellent, and the Barrington men did not linger over their port, but soon joined the ladies in the drawing room. Shortly afterward, the three members of the older generation had their heads together, discussing plans for the wedding.

Pleading his other engagements, Oliver won his father’s permission to leave, whereupon Vexford drew Melissa discreetly aside, and she soon found herself alone with him in a small alcove on the far side of the drawing room. They sat side by side on a claw-footed Egyptian sofa, just beyond sight of the others, and his nearness and size seemed to overwhelm her. She could think of nothing to say to him.

He said, “I never even thought to ask if you wanted Mag to accompany you to Berkeley Square, but Lucy has promised to show her the sights of London, so I assume that you can have no objection if she returns to Carter Fell on Tuesday.”

“No, sir.”

“I’ll see to it, then.”

“Thank you.”

After she had replied in monosyllables to two more conversational gambits, he said, “Tongue-tied, Miss Seacourt? You chattered quite happily at the table, I thought.”

Turning, she looked up at him in surprise. “Did I talk too much, sir?”

“No, and I was not criticizing, merely wondering why you are so silent now.”

She smiled then, moistened dry lips, and said, “I have never been betrothed before. If there are rules for that, as well as for all the rest, you had better tell me.”

Smiling warmly back, he said, “We enter this part of the match as equals, for I, too, have never been betrothed. I think I had better warn you, however, that I will not take it kindly if you disappear into any more bedchambers with strange gentlemen.”

“Bedchambers! But, except for you yourself, I have never—”

“The State Bedchamber at Northumberland House is where I found you with Rockland,” he said, looking into her eyes. “Since it is a large, vastly overdecorated room, I realize that one does not instantly perceive the bed. Nonetheless, that is where you were. And as for the fact of your being alone with Rockland—”