Quiet Meg (24 page)

“Dash it all, Hayden!” Gillen complained as he and
Hayden took yet another trick. “Why are we playin’ for
pennies?”

“Because that is my mood this evening, Gillen,” Hayden
said affably. “I find no particular virtue in the amounts.
D’ you wish to withdraw?”

“Oh, no, no. Not at all. Just wondered.”

They were attracting an audience, solely because of
their dedication. Anyone coming upon them would have
thought that the stakes were very high indeed.

Eventually David returned, to all appearances having
dipped too deep. As he leaned to whisper something to his
brother, Hayden pulled away from him in distaste.

“You are a disgrace, major!”

“Pardon,” he mumbled, and carefully sought a seat behind Hayden and Chas. Given the earnest concentration at the whist table and among its onlookers, Bertram’s cheerful arrival, accompanied by his round-faced sparring partner, was strangely disruptive.

“Allo, Cabot! Lord Hayden.” He bowed to Hayden.
“Allo, Gillen, milord Demarest. This is m’friend Chick
Hugh, the pride of pugilists! So what’s a-foot?”

“Lawrence, meet m’brother.” Hayden casually tilted his
head toward David’s slouching form. David rose unsteadily.

“My pleasure, my lord,” Bertie said, bowing smartly.

David waved that away.

“You’re her brother, then?” he asked.

Bertie laughed.

“I’ve three sisters, milord. Which d’you mean?”

“Lawrence,” Chas interrupted. His own voice sounded odd
to him, as he had been silent for some time. “Come sit next to
me a minute. Perhaps you might advise me on my hand”

As his stocky friend Chick Hugh readily excused himself
to seek a game of hazard, Bertie settled next to Chas.

“You wanted to see me?” Bertie asked.

Chas nodded. His hand was so negligible that it scarcely
mattered what he played.

“Lawrence,” he said very low. “I am honor bound to tell
you-I have just married Meg.”

Bertie tried a smile.

“You’re shammin’ it! Why, she was just at home this afternoon!”

“I am serious. Hayden and David stood up for me this
evening. I’m afraid-it was not entirely her choice.”

“Not her choice!” Bertie’s smile fled. As he started to
rise from his chair, Chas tugged him down. “Why youyou’re no better than Sutcliffe!”

The conversations immediately around their table ceased.
Chas leaned closer to Bertie, in an effort to keep their
voices low.

“That is undoubtedly true. Though I meant her no harm,
I may have done considerable-unintentionally.”

“I cannot believe this of you, Cabot! I have treated
you-we have treated you ..

“Better than I deserve. I am fully conscious of it,
Lawrence. It will not matter, I know, but I did it to protect
her.”

“I can protect my own sister!”

“You could not marry her,” he said simply. “It will help
her.”

“You take too much on yourself, Cabot! Why, I’ve never
thought her partial to you at all! If anything, Walter-”

Chas’ chin rose.

“It is done,” he said. “She may correct the situation tomorrow if she wishes. I shall not be presuming upon the
connection.”

“Presuming upon the connection! I should say not!”
Bertie leapt to his feet. “Cabot, I demand satisfaction! M’sister’s honor!”

“You shall have to wait in line, Lawrence,” Hayden suggested smoothly. “My brother here wants at ‘im, and I
judge there are more to come. Now do sit down like a good
fellow. You are my guest, and I should not like to be tossed
out with you at the moment. Here, play my hand,’ he rose
from the table. “I must have a quick word with LeighMaitland. He has just got to town”

Bertie, looking flustered, allowed Hayden to draw him
unwillingly around behind Chas to the empty seat. He glanced at the hand of cards, then his eyebrows shot high.
“I say, Hayden. Are you sure you want … “

“Play the hand, Lawrence. Well done.” And Hayden
slipped quickly into the crowd.

Chas picked up his new cards. Hayden had been
masterful-and lucky. But the problem simmered. Bertie’s
glances were resentful. And there was worse to come.

“Chas,” David said softly behind him. Chas had thought
his cousin befuddled. “He is here”

has had grown accustomed to Sutcliffe’s foul temper. As
he looked up from his cards he might have predicted with accuracy that look of scarcely suppressed rage.

“Mr. Bertram Lawrence,” Sutcliffe commanded, moving
to the edge of the table, “I think it time you properly present
your friend”

Bertie glanced up at him, but did not abandon his cards.

“I wouldn’t present my worst enemy to you, Sutcliffe. In
any event, I’d need a mirror for that-and none’s to hand.”

Sutcliffe sneered, but there was little else he could do.
As Meg’s brother, Bertie had a peculiar immunity; he
would have to push Sutcliffe very far indeed to bring harm
upon himself. That possibility was likely enough, but always, always, Sutcliffe thought first of his objective-Meg.

Chas forced himself to take a breath, then retired his
cards and stood up.

“You know me, Lord Sutcliffe,” he said evenly. “We are
on practical terms. You have spied upon me for weeks.”

“And why should I not spy-when you dare go where you
are not welcome. When you dare trespass against a lady!”

“That she is still a lady-owes nothing to you.”

Sutcliffe’s indrawn breath was savage.

“Cur!”

In the instant silence Chas heard only the fire, crackling
in the hearth. Behind him, David’s chair scraped back as he
rose.

“Sir … Lord Sutcliffe,” he said. “You have the honor of
addressing Charles Rainer Cabot, Der Graf von Wintersee.”

Sutcliffe’s sneer deepened.

“Do I?” He swiftly surveyed David’s braid. “Roney
slaughtered the rest of the poxy Austrian family, did he,
Major?” As Chas placed a restraining hand against David’s
chest Sutcliffe added contemptuously, “You are quite a
novelty, Cabot. A titled heir who plays the cit.”

“I have my metier. My interests.”

“Your interests, yes-in dirt!”

“At least I do not wallow in it.” Cabot made much of
rubbing one hand thoughtfully against his chin. “Wie sags
Mann? … ein Schwein.”

Sutcliffe’s eyes fairly blazed.

“You insult me!”

“It is gratifying to be understood”

The earl slapped his card on to the table between them.

“This can no longer be deemed mal apropos, Monsieur
Le Comte. I shall be pleased to extinguish your despicable
line-now that we are equals.”

“Equality with you, Sutcliffe,” and he bowed, “is not
something to which I would ever aspire.”

“Unfortunately for you, Cabot, equality-of a kind-is a
state for which you must fervently pray, lest you find yourself deceased. Now sir,” he hissed, “choose your means”

“Pistols.”

“And your second?”

Chas paused. Standing at Sutcliffe’s shoulder, the disconcerting Baron Mulmgren regarded him with chilly satisfaction.

“I stand his second,” Hayden said, his voice carrying
clearly from behind Mulmgren. Both Sutcliffe and Mulmgren had to swivel about to view him.

Sutcliffe’s gaze narrowed.

“I have no quarrel with you, Hayden. You needn’t involve yourself.”

“Oh, but I think I must. Chas bein’ family an’ all.” It was
a pointed little reminder-that Sutcliffe challenged the
house of Braughton as well. Though Chas had not doubted
it, he felt an instant pride.

“Lord Mulmgren speaks for me,” Sutcliffe said abruptly.
And with a curt nod to Hayden, he turned and left.

Chas watched Hayden and Mulmgren remove to a far corner of the room. Given Sutcliffe’s history, Mulmgren must
have served this function for him many times before; indeed,
Chas suspected the baron welcomed the role. Sour Mulmgren actually looked animated. Hayden was less seasoned,
but Chas was confident his cousin knew his preferencesand the protocol-as well as anyone.

Chas swept Sutcliffe’s card dismissively from the
table and sat down to play. But Bertram was staring at him as though he had never seen him before, and Demarest
and Gillen were clearly more interested in watching
their idol Hayden across the way than in renewing the
game.

“You must think me very stupid, Cabot,” Bertie whispered. “I beg your pardon.”

“You could not have known.”

“I should have. By all rights, I should be the one-”

“No. I’ve rights as well now, Lawrence”

Bertie swallowed, then nodded.

“Meggie-does she know?”

“Unfortunately, yes”

“She is safe?”

“She is at home.” Chas glanced around the room. He
could say no more here at White’s, where Sutcliffe might
have unknown allies. He turned to look at David, who was
also watching his brother in conversation. Chas noted that
David’s gaze was too vividly alert-for someone supposedly in his cups.

“You missed your calling, major,” Chas told him very
low. “You should be treading the boards with Kean.” And
David dared to wink at him.

Hayden returned after less than five minutes. Mulmgren
was already slinking out the door.

“We are set,” Hayden said, gesturing easily with an elegant hand. “Lord David, I believe I should see you home.
Demarest, Gillen-keep the table, should you desire it.
Lawrence-you’re welcome to stay as well. I note your
cheery friend Mr. Hugh is in thrall to hazard. And Chas?”
Hayden looked at him through lowered lids. “What is your
pleasure?”

Meg, he thought for one wild instant. But he rose from
the table.

“Sleep, I think, Hayden”

The others ignored Hayden’s invitation to stay, standing
at once to file out, stopping only to collect cloaks before
spilling somberly into the cold night. Once they were outside and alone, Hayden spoke abruptly,

“Tomorrow. Seven A.M. On the common. We shall have
to leave town before dawn. Demarest, Gillen, if you
breathe a word of this to anyone I shall personally see you
outcast “

“Good thing Knowles ain’t here,” Gillen mumbled.

“But I must say something to Ferrell,” Bertram protested. “Father mustn’t know, but m’brother Ferrell-”

Hayden looked to Chas, who nodded.

“All right,” Hayden conceded. “Seven of us. No more”

Chas drew a breath of the damp night air.

“I thank you gentlemen,” he said. “Tomorrow then.” And
he turned to leave with his cousins.

Meg had been received at the duchess’ kitchen. The
large manservant, Alphonse, had shielded Meg bodily,
seemingly on all sides, as they walked the few feet from
their horses to the house. Meg was quickly relieved of the
wet cloak and bonnet and whisked upstairs to a bedroom,
where a bright fire blazed.

The duchess, she was told, had adhered to her usual Friday night appointment, so that no signal should be sent that
anything was amiss. Her Grace would join Meg later. Some
tea would be brought up.

Meg prowled the room for some time, examining the paintings, books and ornaments, looking for any evidence
of Cabot, of which she disappointingly found none. She
read for a while, but as the hour grew late, she found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. She opened her journal
and carefully unwrapped the pressed violets.

She fell asleep there in the chair by the fire, because she
was next aware of gentle fingers on her arm and a soft
voice saying,

“Ma belle … ma belle … Meg”

Meg looked up at a petite, silvery lady in shimmering
gray silk. She leaned upon an ivory-tipped cane. As Meg
started to rise, the duchess placed a hand on her shoulder.

“No. Do not stir yourself.” Her voice was sweet and
calming. “I shall join you here” She signaled a waiting
maid, who curtsied and left the room.

As the duchess took the chair opposite her own, Meg realized the fire had been stoked, and that someone also had
covered her with a blanket.

“I apologize, your Grace. I did not mean to sleep.”

“You must not apologize. I am returning much too
late-it is after ten. I should not have come in, but I wished
to see that you were here, and safe.” She leaned forward
from her chair and gently cradled Meg’s hands. “Ma belle,
it must have hurt him to leave you this night.”

Hurt him? As Meg glanced down, the duchess patted her
hands and sat back.

“They are from Brookslea,” she said, gesturing to Meg’s
pressed violets on the table beside her. “They are the favorites of Charles-for his favorite, yes?”

“Your Grace. .

“Non, non. You must call me Grandmere, as do my grandsons. Or if you choose, Therese, as do my friendsfor I know we shall be friends.”

“Therese. You must know that your grandson … that we
are not really married.”
“

The duchess smiled.

I think you will find that Charles is most determined
on it.”
“

“But Charles

“You call him Charles, then?”

I … hardly know what to call him” She again looked
down and toyed with her new ring. The duchess noticed.

“It is very old,” she said. “It was his father’s-given to
my daughter, his mother.” She observed Meg’s frown.