Gamble With Hearts (5 page)

‘Well! of all shabby things!’ ejaculated the highwayman in disgusted tones. ‘Now we have it all to do again and I'm damned if I'm going to hang around in this dashed draughty spot any longer!’

‘I
 
say, Charles, I mean, ladies p-present!’

‘Oh, pray do not mind me, sir,’ responded Miss Wrexham composedly. ‘I have already suffered so much insult at the hands of this
gentleman
that a little vulgar language has no power to distress me!’

The highwayman, who had been listening to this speech in great indignation, at once began to argue that he had in no way insulted the lady; and a promising quarrel was under way when yet another footpad appeared and in less refined accents informed Charlotte's tormentor that if he did not want to get nabbed nor end his days on the nabbing cheat, they had best lope off seeing as how they'd held up the wrong victim in any event.

Both gentlemen seemed struck by the force of this and prepared to follow their already disappearing colleagues. Before leaving, however, Charlotte's tormentor swept her a bow of awe-inspiring politeness and in arctic tones begged her pardon for any inconvenience he might have caused her.
Charlotte
, with equal politeness, assured him that she did not at all regard it, and the highwayman took leave of his victim for all the world as though he had been paying a morning call. As he rode off down the twilit highway there drifted towards him the sound of laughter and, turning in the saddle, he saw Miss Wrexham doubled up over the side of the carriage in paroxysms of mirth while her friends looked on in consternation. Beneath his mask his own eyes began to sparkle, a chuckle rose in his throat and speedily turned into a roar of laughter. He was still laughing when he reached his friends. ‘I d-don't see what's so d-dashed amusing, Charles,’ remarked one of these gentlemen in a reproachful tone.

 
‘Lord, neither do I,’ replied Charles, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘I suppose we must face it. He ain't coming now.’

‘P-perhaps the blackguard got wind of what we meant t-to d-do,’ suggested the other. ‘You were d-dashed indiscreet in the club the other night.’

‘Well, in any event he will never play there again, the damn cheat,’ remarked a third young man, bringing his horse up to join them. ‘They've orders from Ruthin to throw him out if he shows his greasy face again!’

‘That's all very well, Ricky, but he still got away with the rest of this quarter's allowance; not to mention that plaguey ring that's been in the family since the dark ages! What am I supposed to do? Go on a repairing lease at this season?’

‘You could do worse, Charles m'boy. You've been playing mighty close to the wind, even before this affair. If you ain't dashed careful you'll be rolled up.’

‘Damn you, Ricky, don't keep prosing on. I shall come about. Besides, I have a particular reason for staying in town just now.’

‘What's that, Charles?’ demanded his friend in foreboding.

‘None of your business,’ returned that gentleman, a dark flush rising into his cheeks. ‘But I ain't leaving. That's certain!’

As nothing occurred to disrupt the perfect tranquillity of the rest of the drive, Charlotte and her friends arrived home in good time for dinner. They parted at Lady Northwood's door, although Charlotte's friends still felt a good deal of concern for her, being persuaded that her recent behaviour had its root in the shock which any delicately bred young female must feel at being addressed by such a ruffian. Miss Wrexham assured her kind friends that she was perfectly well, but Mrs Carstairs insisted that she would call the following morning to make quite certain of her welfare. She then recommended her protégée to retire early to bed, but
Charlotte
was engaged that night to go to Lady Marston's masquerade and she had no intention of missing the treat. Charlotte, whose own ball was not to be held until the following week, should not really have been attending any kind of party, but as she was to be masked Lady Northwood had decided that she should be permitted the indulgence. A domino of her favourite apple-green had been purchased and a loo mask completed her disguise. Accustomed as she was to country assemblies, Charlotte was quite unprepared for the sight that met her eyes as she ascended the stairs to Lady Marston's enormous ballroom. A very large proportion of the polite world then residing in town were already disporting themselves upon the dance floor and
Charlotte
found the glittering sight almost overwhelming. Her hostess was a very old friend of Lady Northwood's. Indeed, she perfectly remembered Mrs Wrexham also, and was genuinely delighted to see her again. She lost no time in procuring an eligible partner for
Charlotte
before leading her two friends to the dowagers' chairs in order to indulge in a comfortable gossip.
Charlotte
's partner was a bashful youth but an elegant dancer, and she was very happy to stand up with him again for the second dance. After this she was returned to her mama and was obliged to watch the other dancers for a while. However, no one as beautiful as she could remain a wallflower for long and soon she was discovered by the gentlemen to be by far the loveliest girl in the room. She had no lack of partners for the rest of the evening and was taken in to supper by a young man who, her aunt informed her in a whisper, was worth ten thousand a year at least. Having consumed the dainties provided by their hostess, the fashionable throng once more made their way to the ballroom. A few energetic souls made up a set but the majority of the guests were content to sit about chattering, awaiting the general unmasking that was to take place at
midnight
. Mrs Wrexham began to think about departing as she wished to avoid the necessity of
Charlotte
's unmasking. Far better that her identity should remain a mystery for a little longer. She was more than satisfied with Charlotte's reception and was able to look forward to their own ball with keen enjoyment. Miss Wrexham, meanwhile, who was feeling rather hot and fatigued, had found herself a seat away from the rest of the party and was sitting with her cheek resting upon her hand, her eyes gazing dreamily out of the curtained window. Suddenly a shadow fell across her and looking quickly up she found herself staring into the dancing blue eyes of the handsomest young man she had ever seen. ‘So here you are,’ remarked a well-remembered voice. ‘I've been searching for you all over
London
!’

‘What on earth are you doing here?’ demanded Charlotte in agitation. ‘It is not safe for you!’ ‘Devil a bit!’ responded the young man cheerfully. ‘Unless you mean that it's dangerous to touch the brandy, and there I'd agree with you.’

‘Oh, I do not understand you!’ cried Miss Wrexham in exasperation. ‘Who are you? How can you come here?’

‘Well dash it, I was invited,’ he protested laughingly. ‘Not that I attend this kind of thing as a rule because, to tell you the truth, I think them devilish dull, but as I told you, I was looking for you. I guessed you would be here or at Almacks tonight. I went there first. I meant to come straight on here when I couldn't find you there, but Mrs Drummond-Burrell nabbed me and presented me to some rabbit-faced girl as a very desirable partner. The old harridan frightens me to death, but she's a friend of my mother so there was no getting off!’

Miss Wrexham was gazing at him in wonderment. ‘How could you guess I would be here? How could you know I would be invited?’

‘Didn't know, but I thought there was a good chance. I recognised Carstairs, you see. We were up at
Oxford
at the same time. Good thing he didn't see me, that's why I stayed by your carriage. Well I knew that if you were a friend of the Carstairs then you would be here for the Season, so the chances were I should find you at some party or other. Of course I was lucky tonight. I would have found you eventually though.’

‘But why?’ begged Charlotte in bewilderment. He looked at her for a moment, the laughter dying out of his eyes. She felt the blood rising in her cheeks and her eyes fell before his gaze.

‘You know why,’ he answered quietly. Miss Wrexham felt rather breathless and did not answer until the quiet voice came again, insistently. ‘You do know, don't you?’

‘Yes!’ she answered, raising her glorious eyes to his face.

‘Oh, you darling,’ he said caressingly, and would have caught her hand when the sound of voices recalled them both to a sense of their surroundings.

‘Goodness knows where that child has got to!’ Mrs Wrexham was heard exclaiming.

Charlotte rose quickly, pressing a hand to her hot cheeks. ‘I am here, Mama,’ she called, and stepped out of her corner to face mother.

‘Oh there you are, my love!’ cried Mrs Wrexham. ‘You must get ready, my dear, for the carriage is at the door.’ Suddenly she noticed the intruder who was standing by the window, a mischievous smile in his eyes. ‘Why, who is this young man, Charlotte?’ she asked with a note of disapproval in her soft voice. Before
Charlotte
could answer, Lady Marston came bustling into the room but stopped short at the sight of the interloper.

‘Charles, you wicked boy!’ she exclaimed. ‘How dare you come so late to my party!’

‘Sorry; Aunt Jane,’ he replied, planting a hearty kiss on her rouged cheek. ‘The thing is I looked in at Almacks first and rather forgot the time.’

‘Oh, it could not matter less, Charles, you would not have enjoyed it in any event,’ responded his aunt, patting his cheek affectionately. ‘However, you should both know better than to hide away in a corner like this. It is very naughty of you!’ This was said indulgently, however, and it was obvious that Lady Marston was far from displeased to see her volatile nephew paying attention to a young woman of Charlotte's good breeding and high principles. ‘Fanny, my love, allow me to present my nephew to you; Charles, Viscount Carlington. Charles, make your bow to one of my oldest friends, Mrs Wrexham. Miss Wrexham you seem to be acquainted with already!’ Carlington bowed over Mrs Wrexham's hand with an old-fashioned courtesy that would not have ill-become his grandfather. Mrs Wrexham smiled warmly upon him, noting how his eyes rested upon her daughter's face. If this delightful young man were only as rich as he was well-born then their troubles appeared to be over. She graciously invited him to call upon them in
Hill Street
which he assured them he was most anxious to do. Mrs Wrexham then ushered her daughter away, her head full of delightful daydreams in which
Charlotte
figured as Viscountess Carlington, mistress of an awe-inspiring mansion.
Charlotte
's dreams were of a more romantic nature, but no less delightful.

Miss Wrexham awoke the next morning with an agreeable sense of something pleasant to look forward to. She lay quietly, her cheek snuggled into the pillow and a tender smile playing about the corners of her mouth. Molly, the abigail who brought her morning chocolate, was greeted with a more than usually cheerful good morning which that damsel found perfectly understandable as the coachman had already reported below stairs that Miss had been seen to her carriage last night by a regular Lord.

Confident that Carlington would visit her that very day, Charlotte arrayed herself in a morning gown of jonquil crepe, charmingly tucked to display her figure to advantage. Charlotte, who had never before considered her looks but as a weapon, was for the first time grateful for her own sake that she was beautiful. She curvetted before the mirror, smiling at her reflection and in general behaving very much the same way as any other young lady of eighteen in the throes of her first love.

Mrs Wrexham and Lady Northwood were already partaking of breakfast when
Charlotte
appeared. She apologised gracefully to her aunt and bent to kiss her mama before seating herself and attacking the meal with a healthy appetite. Presently it struck her that her loving relatives seemed incongruously grim on such a lovely morning and laughingly she rallied them upon it.

‘Why, dearest, what is the meaning of that long face? Did you not have the most delightful time last night? Was it not the most wonderful party?’

‘Yes,
Charlotte
, it was a very pleasant party,’ replied Mrs Wrexham dully, stifling a sob.

Charlotte
became seriously alarmed. ‘Mama, what is it? Have you had bad news? Are you ill?’

‘No, my love, it's Carlington!’

‘Not hurt, Mama! Oh not—not—dead!’ cried Charlotte turning deathly pale.

‘Oh good heavens, Fanny, see how you have frightened the poor girl!’ exclaimed Lady Northwood in exasperation. ‘No, of course he is not dead,
Charlotte
. He is perfectly well. What your mother wishes to tell you is that you must put him out of your mind. I am sorry if it distresses you but you really must not think of him anymore.’

Mrs Wrexham uttered a faint sound of protest, but subsided at a look from her sister.

‘Why, ma'am? Why should I not think of him?’ demanded Charlotte in a cold little voice that her mama recognised. It betokened anger rigidly held in check. ‘And pray, whose business is it but mine should I continue to do so?’

Lady Northwood perceived she had erred. Her young niece could be unexpectedly formidable. She took Charlotte's hand coaxingly, saying, ‘Do not be angry with us, my love, but indeed it will not do. Setting aside that Carlington is one of the wildest rakes in town, he is quite penniless!’