The Wicked Game (A Wicked Game Novel) (5 page)

She wanted to run away, as far away as she could, but in the end all she could do was cry, and
her men
held her tightly until the sobs subsided.

***

She tried to hide. It was the only thing she could think of at the time, but in the end, as she knew it would be, her attempts were in vain. Angela’s first dancing partner was Lord Bankston. She studied him with eager eyes, trying to find something special about him that might draw her in. He spoke well and seemed to have an intelligent enough mind. He wasn’t much for looks and the only real thing that could be said in his favor was that at least he wasn’t as old as the Duke. He was tall and strong but his sandy blonde hair somehow sat just slightly wrong on top of his head. She noticed at once that his clothes did the same, falling in such a way that the shape of his body just seemed wrong. Angela had the sudden vision of a little girl in her mother’s shoes trying to fit in with the rest of the world.

Try as she might nothing about him sparked her interest but at least she was not entirely repulsed. At least she could stand his presence, and in this situation that was all she could ask and hope for. She wasn’t expecting love, she never had. Angela’s parents had never loved each other but they held a mutual respect. That was all she ever expected in a marriage and if she looked hard, real hard, she could see that possibility with the Earl.

Of course Angela
wanted
love. What woman didn’t? But in the world of polite society all that mattered were appropriate and suitable matches; suitable for the family that is, not necessarily the woman. She knew this all too well. Angela had never expected love, not really, but of course she dreamt of it. And with the help of
her men
she had thought it a possibility.

Now everything had changed. In this moment Angela realized what she had always known; her father the Baron was in charge and what he wanted would happen. So this was why she was now half listening to Lord Bankston, trying to settle her mind on spending a life with him. Carefully he reached down to her gloved hand and pulled it up to his mouth to kiss. She had a sudden memory of her earlier encounter with the servant, his enticing blue eyes locked with hers. Butterflies filled her belly…

And then a scratching voice pierced her thoughts.

“Please excuse me my lord, but I desire a few moments alone with the beautiful lady.” The Duke flashed his eyes at Angela and without waiting for a response he had maneuvered her, flabbergasted, to the other side of the room. She scanned the crowd and found her mother’s familiar eyes staring at her with excitement. It was clear who her mother wanted her to marry and Angela had a feeling she knew why. ‘My daughter the Duchess’ would be so much more ravishing, for her than ‘My daughter the Countess.’ Angela was repulsed.

That look alone would have been enough for her to try to break this match, but the Duke himself was all it took to make her want to vomit. She would do everything in her power to deter him away from her. She would be rude and crude and downright unwomanly. If she had to marry someone it would not be this ancient pervert of a man.

***

Twenty minutes later and she was running out of ideas. She had already stepped on his feet and responded with, “Bloody Hell!” to nearly everything he said. She even went as far as belching in his face when he tried to steal a kiss but he just continued to smile and so she was forced to continue to stare at his black and decayed teeth. Nothing was working. Perhaps she was a prize for him, a trophy to show off against all of his other accomplishments.
Here is the beautiful Bennett female and she belongs to me.
At this moment Angela was looking for an out, anything, and when she saw Mary step out of the main hall and into a poorly lit corner, she finally got her chance.

What in the world might she be doing?
Angela thought.

She was fairly certain that Mary was not going off to have a brief tryst with a persistent suitor. Mary might be audacious but Angela was sure she would not do something so outrageous in public.

Would she?

Suddenly Angela was unsure.

More than likely Mary was just with her years long friend and companion, Gregory, having a sparring of words (as usual), but Angela did love her cousin dearly and thought it best to check on her nonetheless. Besides, it would get her away from the Duke. Angela laughed quietly. If Mary was meeting Greg, or any man truth be told, she might actually thank
him
when this was through.

“Excuse me, your grace. I see a kin of mine that I must speak with immediately.”

Angela didn’t wait for him to respond and sped off across the ballroom. Skillfully, she wove her way through the crowd to avoid any other unwanted encounters. Lord Bankston almost snared her again but she feigned a coughing fit, grabbed some punch, and promptly exited the ballroom. She could see Mary quite clearly now and it was obvious that she was alone. Angela breathed a sigh of relief that her best friend was actually not with a man but now she was even more curious about what Mary was up to.

“No Greg tonight?”

Mary shook her head as she waved her cousin over. “Pressing business. Or was it university? My mind’s a bit foggy…” She rubbed her eyes. “Either way he’ll be gone for a little while.”

Mary was holding something in her hand but it was dark in the corner and so it wasn’t until Angela was standing right next to her that she realized what it was.

It was a flask.

“Mary Elizabeth Marie Cartwright! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like?” Mary opened the flask and poured a generous amount of the amber colored liquid into her punch.

“Of course I know what you are doing! What I want to know is why! Lady Sutherland does have wine you known.”

The brazen woman seemed undisturbed. “Piss is what it is. I wouldn’t drink that cheap bat’s wine if I was dying of thirst.” She took another large gulp. “This stuff is better.”

“Can you even imagine what will happen if you get caught?” Angela gulped for a much needed breath. “And where did you get that bloody thing from anyway?”

“The gardener,” Mary answered matter-of-factly.

She threw her hands up in the air. “The gardener. Oh but of course! I should have known that the gardener was giving alcohol to my cousin!” Angela was becoming slightly frantic and her attitude, bitingly sarcastic.

“Well he didn’t just give me the alcohol for the hell of it...

“Oh really? I would have never guessed!”

Mary took a large gulp of her punch before continuing. “I caught him with it in the garden behind your mother’s rose bushes and told him that if he didn’t give it to me right away I was going to tell my uncle and have him dismissed. He has nine children did you know? Can’t very well lose his job... And then once I had it, I figured it would be a shame to let it go to waste.” Mary held out the devilish item and smiled. “Besides, it does make these events much more bearable.”

Mary took another large drink, almost finishing the punch, before she poured another generous amount into her cup. “Just to be sure,” she said with a smile. “Go ahead and take some. It will calm your nerves and from the looks of you, you need that.”

Angela hesitated knowing what would happen if she were found out. Actually she couldn’t even imagine. What she
could
imagine were the horrible things that would happen if she was forced to spend any longer in the company of the Duke.

She took the flask from Mary and poured a large amount into her own punch. Then she looked back at Mary and shrugged her shoulders in defeat… or was it acceptance? Angela lifted the flask again but instead of pouring more into her cup, she pressed the opening to her lips and took three large swallows. She had never drunk this kind of alcohol before and it burned as it flowed over her tongue and went down her throat into her stomach. She instantly felt warmer as a pocket of heat formed deep in her belly, and before she could even lower the flask, that feeling had spread to her entire body.

Mary was staring at her in shock.

Angela wiped her mouth. “Just in case.”

Mary threw her head back and laughed. Then she looped her arm through her cousin’s and they walked together, slightly wobbly, back into the ballroom.

The first encounter with Mary had been the last lucid memory Angela had of that night. A large portion of the evening had simply faded into darkness. And then in an instant, she was gliding gracefully across the dance floor on the arm of the most admired man in the room. The man flashed her smile and it sent a thrill through her body. Angela blushed and looked down shyly, too embarrassed to get a good look at her dance partner’s face. The man slowly moved his hand lower down her back until he was cupping the elegant curves of her bottom. He squeezed its suppleness, his large, firm hand covering her completely. The entire room was staring at then, and for once, Angela was satisfied with that. A sense of need welled up inside of her and she lifted her head from the man’s shoulder and tried, urgently, to kiss him. He gracefully turned his head and Angela missed her mark.

Smart man!
She thought.

What had she been thinking? Of course! This was too public! But soon she would have her way. She would entice him into a dark and distant corner and when she opened her mouth for him, he would not resist. She would kiss him passionately, and then fiercely, and he would belong to her.

Angela heard a gasp come from the crowd. She reluctantly disconnected herself from her dance partner’s body and leaned back to look at him straight in the face.

The man was Andrew.

And this had to be a dream.

***

Andrew had just drifted off to sleep when he was awakened by an urgent sounding pound on his door. He just had enough time to pull his shirt over his head before Sarah walked in.

“Mr. Andrew, you’re needed quite urgently downstairs.”

She was wringing her hands together nervously as if something were very wrong.

“What am I needed for? It has to be well past midnight now!”

“Well you see,” Sarah began tentatively, “Miss Bennett needs some help getting up the stairs to her room.”

Andrew furrowed his brow in confusion. “And exactly why can’t she do it herself? Has she forgotten how to use her legs? Besides, where are her brothers and father?”

“They are, umm, quite busy right now.” Sarah wasn’t quite sure how to explain it without dishonoring the Baron’s daughter. “It seems that Miss Mary got a hold of some… some drink and Miss Bennett drank some. More than some I suppose…”

“Ha!” Andrew couldn’t help himself. “So she went and got herself sloshed? I wouldn’t have expected that. Please go tell her mother I will be right down.”

Sarah nodded and left the room as Andrew got out of bed and finished dressing himself. He hadn’t even reached the bottom of the stairs yet and he could already hear the ruckus that was going on down there. When he finally caught sight of the small crowd of women it was very easy to pick out Miss Bennett. She was swaying wildly from side to side yelling what sounded like nothing more than nonsense. Her mother looked very worried and even Mary, who he assumed had been drinking as well and was only slightly more composed, was showing great concern for her cousin as well. Andrew felt a sudden wave of delight fill his body as he realized that Miss Bennett might not be as two dimensional as he had first assumed.

“
There
you are!” Miss Bennett’s voice rang through the hall and she hiccupped several times.

She put her hands on her hips and zigzagged her way over to him. He wanted to smirk but he didn’t dare do so while her female relatives were looking. As Miss Bennett finally reached him she stubbed her foot on the bottom of the stairs and fell into him, her hands landing solidly on his firm chest.

She giggled. “Oh my!” Then she grabbed his arm, much tighter than she should have, and let him lead her up the stairs.

“This is qu—qu—very odd.”

Andrew was not sure what she meant. “What is odd, Miss Bennett?”

“Well,” she began as if the answer was obvious, “Why on earth would my mother let a man take me to my room?”

She had barely finished her sentence because she tripped on her own feet and nearly fell flat on her face. Andrew reacted quickly and managed to pull her up tight to him.

She gave him a look that he was quite familiar with receiving from women. “I don’t mind it.”

“Mind what?”

“That a man is taking me to my room.”

Andrew was unsure exactly what to say so he answered with the obvious. “I am a servant. This is very acceptable.”

Miss Bennett shook her head awkwardly. “No, no, no, no, no.
You
sir are most definitely a man!”

Andrew breathed out heavily. “Yes. But in this situation I am a servant first.”

An angry look spread across her face and she reached out and clutched his chest firmly. “No! You are a man!”

Andrew pushed her off of him. They were at her door now. He opened it and motioned for her to enter. “And you, Miss, are drunk!”

Angela stopped dead in her tracks and wobbled slightly as she placed her hands on her hips. “
What
did you say?”

Andrew realized that he had probably made a mistake by saying that out loud and so he tried to cover his tracks.

“I said nothing, Miss”

He grabbed her by the arm and tried to pull her into the bedroom but she pulled away and sent herself flying to the floor.

“You… you, you, you, you, you…” Somehow she had pulled herself to her feet. “You are a liar!”

Andrew was becoming increasing irritated. “I am not a liar. You need to go to bed!” He grabbed her arm again.

“No! I will not! Let go of me!” She tried to pull herself free but she was really to drunk now to control herself. And she was becoming angry as well.

“You need to go to bed! Now!” Andrew pulled her into the room and she fell into him.

She looked up into his eyes and hiccupped again. “Not until you kiss me sir!”

Andrew pushed her out to arm’s length and shook her. “Are you absolutely mad? You are drunk, I am a servant, and you need to go to bed!”