Gamble With Hearts (14 page)

‘That were 'im, Ned, not a doubt about it,’ remarked one of these individuals with great satisfaction. ‘I knowed all along as 'e'd turn up 'ere sooner nor later.’

‘Aye, you was in the right of it, 'Enery, an' I'll never deny it. That was a bit o' good deduction an' if there's any justice in the world they'll see that at Bow Street.’

Henry shook his head, obviously doubtful that any such justice was to be expected from his superiors at headquarters. However, he was in great hopes of delivering the wanted man very shortly. Strangely, his orders were merely to observe his quarry, not to arrest him until further word from Bow Street. As their quarry was accompanied by two other large and healthy young men, neither Ned nor Henry felt tempted to exceed their instructions.

As so often happens when our lives seem hopelessly grey and depressing, the weather the following morning was bright and spring like. Miss Milverly, who had retired the previous night in a somewhat despondent frame of mind, felt a corresponding rise of the spirits. It is, of course, disconcerting to any prospective heroine to discover that the young man whom she was determined to have, despite all parental opposition, is, in fact the very man her odious parent had selected for her. Nothing so dull as to marry with her father's consent was likely to appeal to Miss Milverly, but fortunately an alternative was at hand. The handsome Sir Robert had not only the advantage of years and address, he was also disliked by her father, and as Miss Milverly's most pressing desire was to punish the Marquis for all the lonely years of her childhood, he answered the purpose admirably.

The Marquis would have been as astonished as dismayed if he had known how his pretty little daughter planned to make up for the years of neglect she had suffered. It had never occurred to Ruthin that to his Amelia he had appeared to be a god-like figure, descending occasionally upon his sister's quiet house, bringing gifts and treats; and then, just as suddenly, disappearing back to the Metropolis from whence tales of his doings would reach his adoring child. She could have told exactly how many mistresses he had in keeping, what price he paid for his hunters at Tattersall's, how much he dropped a night at Faro. As she grew older, she began to resent her father's way of life in which there was no place for a schoolgirl. His visits were less frequent and, when he came, it was no longer to take her up before him upon one of his magnificent horses; he was much more likely to take her to task for hoydenish behaviour. She grew shy and sulky, and the Marquis made bad worse by losing patience. The result was that until Amelia came to reside with her Papa in Grosvenor Square, they had barely seen each other for years, and Miss Milverly had spent those years in brooding upon her wrongs. It seemed that the Marquis did not wish his daughter to know Sir Robert. Well, the Marquis would discover once and for all just how little his daughter cared for his opinions, and if he were hurt, so much the better!

Therefore, Sir Robert Chatham, lounging gracefully in a secluded corner of Kensington Gardens, was gratified by the sight of Miss Milverly tripping along, a frightened-looking abigail at her heels. She was wearing a most fetching chip bonnet, and looked as pretty as a picture.

‘Oh!’ she exclaimed breathlessly as she came up to him. ‘I have had such a terrible time getting away. I was obliged to say that I was going to visit my old governess who lives in Kensington, and as you can see, I had to bring my maid with me but that's quite alright for she won't breathe a word. Will you, Hetty?’

Hetty shook her head and was understood to say that she would be pulled apart by wild horses rather than divulge a word of her mistress's escapade. She was then dismissed to the gate to await Miss Milverly who was persuaded to retire behind a convenient arbour, away from prying eyes.

She was a little nervous, but she need not have worried, Sir Robert was far too old a hand to frighten off his quarry so soon in the proceedings.

‘My dear, how can I thank you for agreeing to this meeting?’ he began, taking her hand in a fervent clasp. ‘I had hardly dared to hope that you would come!''

‘I said I would, sir,’ she answered demurely, allowing him to retain her hand.

‘Oh, you are adorable!’ he exclaimed. ‘Damn if I remember when I've met with such an enchanting little creature. I can’t keep calling you Miss Milverly, what’s your name?’

‘My name is Amelia, Sir, but I do not think that it would be proper for me to allow you to use it.’

‘And are you always thinking of what is proper, Amelia?’

She cast an expressive glance around the deserted arbour. ‘You must know that I am not. But if you are to call me by my name I think it only fair that I should use yours—Robert.’

‘My sweet, I make you free of it.’

‘Robert. It's a nice name, I think,’ she said musingly, peeping up at him from under her sooty lashes.

‘I never knew how well it sounded until I heard it upon those rosy lips,’ he told her caressingly. She laughed, but her glance was so flirtatious that he was encouraged to advance more quickly. It seemed unlikely that this charming little fool would be frightened away after all. Cautiously, he stole an arm about her waist and, as he was not repulsed by the lady, he made so bold as to lift her chin with his other hand. For a few moments he gazed into her eyes in a suitably romantic manner, and then he bent his lips to hers in a respectful kiss. To his complete amazement, so far from shrinking from him, Amelia flung her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with totally unexpected fervour. Chatham was delighted. It seemed that this heiress was about to fall into his hands like a ripe plum, and as she was by far the prettiest of all the rich young ladies he had pursued, he felt his luck had changed indeed.

Amelia stood within his encircling arms thinking how very different had been Sebastian's shy but loving kisses. She found this older man a little frightening, his lips too hot, his hands too possessive. However, she could not draw back now. No doubt she would get used to it in time. Sir Robert, confident that he had won his heiress, suggested a flight the following night and was gratified by Miss Milverly's prompt acquiescence. Exultant, he once more took her in his arms, kissing her with a greedy passion he now made no attempt to hold in check. He left her standing in the arbour, her hair in disarray, and her rosy lips swollen and in her eyes a look of triumph. But as she wiped his kisses off her lips with the back of her hand, she could not help wondering if Sebastian would be very much hurt when he learned of her flight.

If it had been an exciting morning for Miss Milverly, for Miss Wrexham it had been one of unrelieved tedium. She dared not leave the house for fear of missing Pentherbridge's message; and as her mama was engaged with a party of friends to walk in Kensington Gardens, and her aunt was embarked upon a lengthy shopping expedition, she was obliged to sit alone with her much neglected embroidery. Painful thoughts could not but intrude and many hot tears were spilt upon the delicate cambric. She was therefore much relieved when the door opened and her mama bustled into the apartment, stripping off her lavender kid gloves and calling for a cup of chocolate.

‘All alone, my dear? I wish you had come with us. It is a lovely morning, the gardens were quite delightful. I am sure that there were thousands of daffodils out. It was such a sight!'‘

‘I am sure it was but really, I do not feel up to much exercise at the moment,’ answered Charlotte with a sigh.

‘Really,
Charlotte
, I am getting quite tired of your sighs and your megrims. I sometimes wonder whatever became of my spirited daughter! Since we came to London it seems to me that you have done little else but weep over that worthless young man. If you really love him so much, then, for heaven's sake, break this silly engagement to Ruthin and do something to help the poor boy!’

‘Such as, Mama?’

‘Oh, I do not know! Perhaps you could appeal to Charles to come forward and face his trial, in the newspaper, I mean. It is the only thing he can do, after all. Have you thought that wherever he is, he may have heard of your engagement? Think how the poor young man must feel, deserted by everyone as he is! No wonder he will not give himself up!’

‘Mama, you do not know how much you are hurting me. Of course I have thought of all these things. But how can I ask Charles to give himself up to almost certain death?’

‘He may be dead already. Have you considered that, my dear?’ asked Mrs Wrexham, gently.

Charlotte nodded. ‘I have thought of it, but I cannot believe it. I do not feel that he is dead! My only hope is that he will let me know where he is and that we might perhaps be able to go away together, to Italy perhaps, or even America. It would be hard, I know, but what else can we do?’

Mrs Wrexham shook her head. ‘Nothing, I suppose. But, please, my love, try to be a little more cheerful. People are beginning to talk. For a newly betrothed young lady, you do present the most woebegone appearance!’

‘I will try,’ promised Miss Wrexham, lifting her chin a little at the notion that she was being talked of.

‘I am sure I do not understand you modern young women! Here you are, mooning over Carlington, who is at best a notoriously dissipated young man, although I will admit that he is most attractive; and now, whom do you imagine I saw today in the Gardens in intimate conversation with a well-known fortune hunter?’

‘My Aunt?’ hazarded
Charlotte
with a smile.

‘Charlotte, what a lovely thought! No, not your poor dear Aunt, but Amelia Milverly!’

‘But I thought Amelia was all but betrothed to young Edridge,’ remarked
Charlotte
, mildly surprised.

‘So she was. Until, I suppose, she became acquainted with this fellow. What do you think I should do,
Charlotte
? I feel a little responsible, you know, for Amelia was under my chaperonage when she first met Sir Robert. I cannot let little Amelia ruin herself over this rake, and yet how I hate to be a tale bearer! There is no help for it, however, I must speak to her father.’

Charlotte concurred in this, and Mrs Wrexham determined to make a morning call upon the Marquis the next day. She went off to her room to change her gown, leaving a very thoughtful daughter in the morning room. It occurred to Miss Wrexham that her mama was remarkably undismayed by the idea that her only child might go off to live in another land with a suspected murderer. Indeed, her mother was in an unusually sunny mood most of the time lately. Charlotte was not so concerned with her own problems that she failed to realise that this good temper was the direct result of her disclosure that her engagement was merely a ruse.

The rest of the afternoon passed pleasantly enough. Her mama persuaded her to put down her embroidery and engage in a game of backgammon, a pastime for which Charlotte had always a great partiality. They were not engaged for the evening and so, after a quiet dinner, all the ladies retired, grateful for the opportunity of an early night for once.

Miss Wrexham tossed and turned for a long time before she finally fell asleep She was dreaming, as usual, about Charles. It seemed that Charles was calling to her. She could hear his beloved voice quite plainly. ‘Charlotte,
Charlotte
, wake up, for God's sake!’

A far from gentle hand on her shoulder did at last awaken her, and she opened startled eyes to see Carlington bending over her, a most un-amiable expression upon his face. None of the carefully rehearsed speech the Viscount had prepared was destined to be uttered. It was a good speech, containing just the right amount of contempt, cold anger and reproach. It was nicely calculated to show Miss Wrexham what a noble fellow she had thrown away and how despicable her behaviour had been. He was just about to begin, and had uttered a cold ‘Madam—,’ when he suddenly found that his arms were full of Charlotte's warm body and her arms were around his neck.

‘Charlotte—?’he whispered uncertainly, and then her lips found his and neither of them spoke for a very long time.

Some time later Charles was seated, most improperly, upon the bed with one arm around Miss Wrexham whose head rested snugly in the hollow of his shoulder. He held one of her hands and was engaged in tracing a pattern upon the palm with one finger. She was content merely to observe him, noting each change that his ordeal had wrought upon him. He looked so much older, yet when he smiled it was with all his old boyish charm. He smiled now as he caught her eye and tightened his hold, whispering, ‘What are you thinking about, my darling?’

‘I was thinking about you, of course,’ she answered simply.

‘And what were you thinking about me?’

‘That in some strange way you seem to have grown. Darling, what happened to you? Where have you been all these dreadful weeks? I have been out of my mind with worry!''

Charles gave her a long look. ‘You were so worried that, from what I have been told, you became engaged to Ruthin almost immediately. Oh, I am not blaming you. I don't deny I was cursed upset when Ricky and Fitz told me about it, but I daresay I can understand how it happened. That scoundrel must have taken advantage of you, told you lies about me. How could you know what to believe? You had only known me for a few days.’

Charlotte
sat up very straight, shrugging off his protective arm. She faced him, her eyes blazing wrathfully. ‘How dare you! Oh, how dare you say such a thing to me! I never, never for one moment believed anything bad of you. You seem to know very little about me if you think I could be so faithless!’