Highest Stakes (40 page)

  "Indeed so, my lord," Lady Felicia agreed. "She is looked after by her childhood nurse. Rest assured, Charlotte will be right as rain within the for'night."

  "She shall be advised to do so," Sir Garfield remarked. "She is a most dutiful and compliant girl, my niece." Suspicious of her sudden infirmity, he reassured the viscount with less confidence than he actually felt. "There is surely no reason to blight everyone's pleasure."

  Edmund masked his displeasure. In reality, he would have liked nothing better than to forgo Vauxhall. He held far different notions of amusement. Suddenly, he smiled. "Why shouldn't young Charles join the party now we are reduced to an odd number?"

  Sir Garfield lit up at the notion, eager to encourage his son's acquaintance with the peer. "A capital idea! Charles?" He looked to his son.

  Charles flushed with pleasure to be included in the company of one who could help him navigate the sophisticated city. "I should be much pleased to attend, my lord."

  He would have been surprised to know Lord Uxeter was equally keen.

Robert arrived at nine o'clock and waited patiently at the garden gate. By ten, Charlotte had yet to appear. He paced anxiously. His mind raced in fear their plans were already foiled, until he detected the small, cloaked figure hugging the shadows.

  Enveloped in darkness, he advanced toward her. Charlotte fell deeply into Robert's embrace. "I'm so sorry to be late, but my uncle was about, and then the servants…"

  He hushed her swiftly with his kiss while cocooning her tightly against him.

  "I had begun to think all was lost," he whispered warmly into her hair, but aware of the urgency of time, he wrapped his cloak about them and bustled her down the narrow lane to the waiting hackney. He spoke brief instructions to the driver and then helped her inside.

"Why Whitehall?" she asked.

  "I'm afraid this bodes to be a long and uncomfortable journey," he apologized in advance. "We had little time to plan, and with no stage coaches scheduled for another day, we must set out by horseback. I shan't doubt it will be a hard ride. Do you think you are up to it, my little love? It's not too late to go back…" He searched her eyes for reassurance.

  She returned his earnest gaze with one of steadfast determination. "I'm made of sterner stuff than you think, Captain Devington. Don't you know by now I would go to the ends of the earth with you?"

  "Then all is indeed well, my love." He murmured his reply against her lips, but the carriage jolted and broke their embrace. Robert put breathing room between them and continued. "I've news to make the journey more tolerable, or at least less unpleasant, my dearest. I have requisitioned your mare."

  "Amoret? You have found Amoret!" she exclaimed with joy and wrapped her arms tightly about him.

  "Drake and I found her at the Hyde Park sale. I daresay she has missed you in equal measure, but I promise you shall be reunited forthwith. As to our journey, we'll ride only as far as Sheffield and then take the mail to Gretna Green. My plan is unformed after that, but we have several days before we need fret about it."

  "Robert, it matters not as long as we get there. Once we are wed, the powers of Hades can't separate us."

  The hackney pulled up outside Horse Guard stables, where the saddled horses awaited. The captain alighted first and then assisted her down. Inspecting her attire, he made a final suggestion.

  "I have some clothes for you. 'Twould be neither safe nor wise for you to travel dressed as you are. Better if you're again disguised as a lad." Handing her a bundle, he led her to the stall housing her beloved mare. "You may change inside. You need not fear intrusion. I'll keep watch, but pray make haste. We must put some long miles between us and your uncle this night," he said urgently.

  "I won't keep you waiting."

  Charlotte quickly changed and stuffed her gown and a few belongings into the pack that Robert secured to her saddle. He gave her a leg up, and then he mounted Mars.

  Blessed with a full moon and a clear sky, they set out on London's Great North Road.

L ondon's pleasure gardens had never been Lord Uxeter's milieu
for entertainment. He despised the intermingling of the classes, milling about for no better reason than to gawk at one another. Nevertheless, he pasted on a smile and strolled the grounds with his party, pausing frequently along lamp-lit pathways for his guests to admire the statues, painted murals, imitation Chinese pagodas, triumphal arches, Turkish tents, and Italian ruins; all of which created the fantasy called Vauxhall.

  After parading about interminably, they finally arrived at the box he had reserved in the grand arcade. An orchestra played above the teeming dance floor, and Edmund found the music unexceptional at the best moments and offensive to his ears at the worst. He was thankful to be obligated for only one dance set before the midnight illuminations, which he bore with little more than edgy tolerance.

  After suffering nearly five hours of Vauxhall in his insipid company, he was nearing the limits of his endurance. Seeking any excuse to retire, he feigned concern for his fiancée, so the party returned home. Lord Uxeter took his leave of the ladies at their door but then turned to address Charles.

  "I had in mind to go to one of my clubs for a drink. Would you care to bear me company?"

  Eager for acceptance into Lord Uxeter's circle, Charles accepted the invitation, and they proceeded to a private house in St James. Lord Uxeter introduced Charles to a dozen or so men who passed the early morning hours between political discussions, rubbers of whist and piquet, and numerous bottles of wine.

  A novice at cards, Charles sat out the play and did his best to feign interest in the political intercourse, but hard as he tried, he could not summon the slightest genuine interest. His boredom led him to imbibe more heavily than he realized. He soon passed out in his chair.

  He awoke after a few hours, disoriented and alone in his lordship's company.

  "Back to the land of the living, are you, young Charles?" Lord Uxeter gibed with his intense gaze.

  Surveying the room through bleary eyes, Charles asked, "Is the comp'ny all departed?"

  "Long since retired home or carried to a room above stairs, but I hadn't the heart to wake you. I daresay you are unaccustomed to heavy drink, but you will soon adapt to town life." He laughed indulgently.

  "What pray is the hour, m'lord?" Charles asked while groggily rubbing his eyes.

  "Just past daybreak."

  "Daybreak? Hell and the devil!" Charles started suddenly to his feet.

  Lord Uxeter raised a brow.

  "M'father, m' lord! We're off to Newmarket today."

  "Indeed? I go there myself. Has your father a horse in the race?"

  "Indeed. He's pinned his hopes on Tortoise, and I am to ride."

  "Then I perceive your predicament. I beg your forgiveness if I have put you out of favor with your father. 'Tis unwise to displease the one who holds the purse strings. I shall have my carriage put to anon and deliver you home. Perhaps we shall meet again on the field? I shall be running Perseus against the four-year-olds. 'Tis time and a half since I've enjoyed a race." He had not run at all since his humiliation at Lichfield.

  Charles arrived home within the hour; still half foxed, he staggered into the breakfast room.

  "Is that you, Charles? What do you think you are about, making me wait half the morning?" Sir Garfield demanded. "You knew we were to depart early for Newmarket. Most important races of the season! You'd best explain yourself, m'boy." He glowered.

  "M'sincere aplolo… apologies, sir," Charles slurred.

  "You're bloody well in your cups, boy!" his father retorted.

  "Not m'flault, sir." He hiccupped. "Lord Ux'ter invited me to his club. I didn't s'pose you'd have me refuse."

  "Uxeter, eh?" His glower morphed into a grin. "Well done, Charles! For God's sake, pour the lad some coffee!" Sir Garfield demanded of the footman. "You'll just have to sleep it off in the carriage. Now go and get yourself presentable. I will allow you half an hour before we depart.

  "Escort the lad upstairs, lest he break his fool neck on the way," he told the servant, "and by all means, avoid Lady Felicia. She'll be up in arms if she spies him thus." Sir Garfield chuckled.

  As Charles clumsily ascended the stairs on the footman's arm, misfortune met him in the form of his mother. Her gaze raked his rumpled hair and disheveled attire. "Charles! Are you just coming in at this hour? And in this… this… deplorable condition?"

  His blank look failed to convey his innocence.

  "I shall speak immediately to your father!" Lady Felicia stormed into the breakfast room. "Have you beheld your son, Sir Garfield?"

  "Indeed. Foxed to the gills, ain't he?" He chuckled.

  "This is no laughing matter," she insisted. "I question the wisdom of encouraging such a connection with Lord Uxeter. What kind of gentleman would keep a young man out all night and send him home in such a state?"

  "Lord Uxeter is a gentleman of the town, and our boy is a man grown. You should be pleased he has been so initiated. Indeed, this may be a step in the right direction for our Charles. The boy has been in the country far too long. A binge or two will do him no harm. I assure you he will sleep it off in the carriage. 'Tis sixty miles to Newmarket."

  "I'll warrant half a day's ride in a jostling carriage will make him positively ill. He'll rue last night's reveling then," she prophesied.

  "You may well be right on that account, m'dear."

  "Speaking of illness, Sir Garfield, should I send for a physician? Charlotte has not stirred since yesterday forenoon. Mayhap the girl should be bled."

  "M'dear, you know I take little stock in such practices. Why don't you go to her room and see if she's in her right mind. If she's lost her wits with fever, by all means send for the physician."

  "Very well, but pray wait your departure until I have seen her. I care not to be alone in London with a sick girl, you know."

  "Charles has already put us behind schedule, madam. I shall not tolerate any further delay. The girl will be fine."

  "Always the races!" Lady Felicia exclaimed with dismay and went to check on her niece.

  Her rap on the door took Letty by surprise. "Who is it?" the maid inquired apprehensively.

  "'Tis Lady Felicia, come to check on Charlotte."

  "But she's yet sleeping."

  "Then mayhap the physician should be dispatched. Open the door, Letty."

  "But, ma'am, 'tis a very catching fever. You durst not enter," Letty answered nervously.

  Growing suspicious, Lady Felicia insisted, "I'll just stand from the doorway. Sir Garfield departs for Newmarket forthwith, and I will not have his niece die in his absence. I demand you open this door. I'm not beyond calling the footmen to remove its hinges!"

  Letty said a brief prayer for Charlotte and her captain, and trudged to the door. She turned the key in the lock and cracked it open. Lady Felicia pushed it farther ajar, spying the form under the bedclothes.

  "Well, Letty, go rouse her," she demanded.

  Letty dragged her feet toward the bed. "I dare not uncover her, ma'am, on account of the fever."

  "Letty!" Lady Felicia shouted.

  The forlorn maid pulled back the covers to reveal pillows in place of the supposed invalid.

  "Where is Charlotte, you impertinent sneak? You will surely be beaten!" she threatened the maid.