Regency Wagers (45 page)

‘Robert.’ Robert must have spilled everything.

‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I saw Robert. I was rather harsh with him, I’m afraid, but he told me you masqueraded as
Lady Widow to win enough money to…’ he paused and took a breath ‘…to leave me.’

A dam of pain broke inside her.

‘I have the money to free you,’ he said.

He wished her to go! Of course. She’d shamed him, seduced him at Madame Bisou’s as though she were as common as one of the girls employed there. If it ever became known that Lady Widow was in fact Lady Keating—

‘You need not return to Madame Bisou’s. In fact, I wish very much for you not to return to that establishment or any like it. It is too dangerous.’

Would he believe she had already decided not to return? Never to be Lady Widow again? ‘I—’ she began.

He held up his hand. ‘No, let me finish.’ He shook his head. ‘I wronged you from the start, Emily. I deceived you so often, but I have no wish for more secrets between us. Do not think I have not seen how good you have been to me and my family. I do not know what I would have done without you, if I’d had to concern myself with my mother, her aunts or the household. You were better to me than I deserved.’

He had valued her all this time? Noticed her efforts to care for his family? Why did that not please her? She wanted more from him. She wanted what she’d had as Lady Widow.

Heart bleeding, she touched his arm. ‘No, please, do not say—’

His eyes flashed. ‘I am not finished.’ He glanced down to where her hand rested on his arm. His other hand reached over and grazed hers, but she was uncertain if he meant to remove her hand or hold it there in place.

He looked back at her and continued, ‘I do not blame you for wanting to be rid of me and my family.’

Be
rid
of him! She opened her mouth to protest.

‘We do not deserve you,’ he carried on, apparently willing to send her away with at least some pride salvaged. ‘But you must not take any risks. I can pay for your freedom now. I have enough money.’

The money he won at gambling, no doubt, but she would never forgive herself if she accepted his money and later learned he was in terrible debt.

‘No, Guy, you must save the money,’ she spoke earnestly. ‘Do you not realise you will have a streak of losing some day? You must always keep money in reserve. If you wish, I will hold the money for you, so you cannot put your hands on it to gamble away.’

He looked puzzled now. ‘Gamble it away? Do you think I would keep the money to gamble it?’

She grasped his hand and held it tight. ‘Oh, you would not plan to, I am sure, but I know about this, Guy. From my father. When gaming takes hold, a gentleman will risk everything. Please let me stay with you. I can help you. I know I can.’

He gave a dry laugh. ‘You would stay under such circumstances?’

His laugh wounded her, but he must be made to see she could help him. ‘Yes. I know you are not like my father, but the gambling is so very hard to resist.’

He gave her a cynical look. ‘Gambling is hard for you to resist as well, no doubt.’

She felt her cheeks go hot. ‘I cannot deny I like a good card game, but I am content with private ones. I have no wish to enter another gaming hell in my life.’

Guy peered into her eyes, looking so full of resolution. Her hand was warm, clutching his so tightly it was almost painful. She continued to believe him a gambler, but was willing to stay with him? She’d conceded he was not like
her father, but believed him enough like that disreputable man to require her help? What a model for comparison. In his single-minded quest to save his family and Annerley—and her—he had never thought how his gambling might have appeared to her.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, taking both her hands in his, making her look at him. ‘I am not like your father, Emily, and I am not like my father, or my brother. I…I do not claim to be immune to the lure of cards, but I swear to you, I only played to win enough money to keep us all from the poorhouse.’

‘The poorhouse?’ She blinked down at him.

He blew out an embarrassed breath. ‘Another secret I kept from you. From everyone. When I inherited, there was nothing left but debt. Not a feather to fly with. The estate was in ruins, its people near starvation. My mother, my great-aunts, my sister—and, then, you—how was I to feed all of you?’

She gave him an intent look. ‘That is why you married me, when you thought I had money?’

‘Yes. For the money, I admit.’ He squeezed her hands. ‘I panicked when you told me there was no money.’

‘So you gambled?’

‘I needed a great deal of money and I needed it as quickly as possible. I could think of nothing else to do.’

He let go of her hands and stood, moving back to the chair and collapsing in it. ‘What a mess,’ he muttered. ‘What a mess I’ve created.’

She sat very still. He shot a glance at her, wondering what thoughts ran through her mind. Forgiving him would not be among them. ‘I am sorry,’ he said in a tired, hopeless voice.

‘How much did you win?’ she asked.

‘Above one hundred and fifty thousand pounds,’ he said.

She gasped. ‘Above one hundred…’ Her voice caught.

‘Take or leave a little. I’ve got an accounting. Much of it has been sent to Annerley, and all the debts I could discover have been paid. The bulk of the rest are in the funds.’

‘Above one hundred…’ she said again.

He could not bear to look at her. Could bear even less that she deserved to walk out of his life. ‘So you see, I can well afford for you to live handsomely. There is no reason to be trapped here with me.’

Once more she fell silent. For so long, he started to squirm, feet and hands refusing to keep still.

When she glanced up, she returned his gaze with the blank expression he’d seen so often. ‘I assure you, sir, I would be comfortable with half the sum on the paper. When do you require me to leave?’

Guy shot to his feet. How had he caused her withdrawal? He wanted never again to see that retreat in her eyes. He leaned over her. ‘I do not require you to leave, Emily.’

Before he walked in this room, he’d been intent on giving up the game, as he had given up winning Sloane’s game of piquet with her. He had decided to throw in his cards and let her go without taking any further risks, telling himself he was being honourable, not cowardly. But suddenly, he needed to play this game to the end. To give it his all. If he lost after doing so, the pain might be worse, but she was worth this one last wager. It was worth everything to bring her back to life.

He kept his gaze steady. ‘I do not wish you to leave. I want you to stay, Emily. I want a chance to make something of our marriage, but I will not force you to stay.
You must decide what you want. You. Not what you should or should not do. Not what is required of you. Not what
I
want.’ His voice cracked, but he forced himself to finish. ‘What
you
want.’

She glanced away, but he took her chin in his fingers and forced her to look at him again. ‘What you want, Emily.’

He had not known he could risk more than Annerley. These stakes seemed higher than that for which he’d braved the gaming tables. He risked his heart. Their future.

He let go of her and stepped away. ‘You do not need to decide now,’ he said. ‘You have the banknote if you choose to use it. I will leave you to your sleep and perhaps…perhaps we may talk more in the morning.’

She remained in her chair. After a moment she nodded slightly. He walked to the door.

‘Guy?’ Her voice halted him. ‘You wagered on bedding me, did you not? They all did.’ Her voice trembled, but at least there was some emotion in it.

He turned around to her. ‘Not I, Emily. Good God! I knew you were my wife. That wager was abominable to me.’

She blinked at him. ‘You did not bet on me?’

He shook his head.

‘The gentlemen who did, their interest was in the wager, was it not? That is why they flattered Lady Widow.’

This was an Emily he’d not glimpsed before. Insecure, woefully fearing she’d not been the sensational Lady Widow after all. He folded his arms across his chest. ‘Emily, they would not have made the wager if they had not been…attracted.’

‘And were you…attracted? Did you…like…Lady Widow? You must have liked her…to…bed her.’

Her questions unsettled him. He spoke of her leaving him, and she, God help him, talked of his bedding Lady Widow. This was a dangerous hand to play without knowledge of the rules.

He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to be as honest in this as he’d tried to be in everything he’d said to her in this room, even if it felt like he was showing all his cards. ‘I admit to being captivated.’

Her head drooped. ‘I see.’

His spirits drooped as well, but he persisted. ‘Lady Widow captivated me. She and you were one to me, though I could not sometimes reconcile the differences.’

She gave him a pained look. ‘I am not Lady Widow. I only pretended to be her. It was like a role in a play.’

He held her gaze. ‘I know that,’ he said softly. ‘Do we not all play roles, Emily? Was I not playing the gambler, when I sat down to cards? I pretended, too, you see. Were you not likewise playing a role as my wife? Making yourself so—’

‘Drab?’ She sprang to her feet, eyes blazing.

He cursed himself for his careless words. Still, anger was better than no emotion at all, though scant consolation.

‘Would you have me tint my lips and cheeks like Lady Widow? Do you wish me to dress as she does? Talk as she talks?’

He faltered. ‘You mistake my meaning—’

She shouted, ‘I am not Lady Widow!’

He strode back to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. ‘Just as I am not a gambler! But both of those roles are part of us, are they not? I do not wish for you to bury that part of you who is Lady Widow, who is confident and sure of what she desires. Neither do I want you to hide that part of you who would risk everything for your
sister. Or the gambler inside you. Indeed, the gambler inside me would much like to challenge you to another game.’ He squeezed her shoulders, aware of how delicate she felt beneath his fingers. ‘I do not wish you to feel you must hide any part of you from me. Good God, Emily, do not hide yourself, no matter what your decision. You have so much beauty inside you, so much emotion. You allowed me to glimpse it when we walked through Hyde Park—’

‘Hyde Park?’ she snapped, nothing but scepticism in her voice.

‘Hyde Park,’ he repeated. ‘I felt as if I were seeing you for the first time. Do you not know how fascinating it is to know you conceal so much? It is like opening a package and finding more prizes the deeper one goes.’

He looked into her face, but it had gone blank. She had retreated from him once more.

‘You are hiding again,’ he said sadly. ‘Though I suppose that is precisely what I deserve. It is what I have done to you until this night. I have hidden myself from you just as thoroughly as you have from me. You and I do not know each other, do we? I would like to know you, Emily. I would like it very much.’

He released her and rubbed his hands, the hands that had so briefly held her. ‘I know the blame is entirely at my door, from the moment I tricked you into marrying me—’

‘Your regret at doing so has been no secret.’

He froze, seeking her eyes. ‘But I have not regretted marrying you.’

She laughed, a pained, forced laugh.

How much he had hurt her! At least, difficult as it was for him to witness, she was not hiding now. He wanted to get her to look at him. She would not. ‘You have tried
to be a good wife. You have tried to please me. It is I who have not been a good husband. If I had, you would not have become Lady Widow. You would not wish to leave me.’

‘No, I—’ she said, her expression softening.

He held up his hand to silence her. ‘I cannot regret meeting Lady Widow, knowing that side of you, but I value her no more or less than the woman who has put up with my uncivil family, who has run my household with skill and economy, who has asked for nothing for herself, but who deserves everything. I cannot regret making love to Lady Widow, but neither can I regret those times I lay with you as my wife, how sweet you were—’

Her eyes flashed again. ‘No more falsehoods, Guy. Until that night with Lady Widow you have taken pains to avoid my bed.’

Her words stung as sharply as a slap across the cheek. Fool that he was, he’d no notion that this too had caused her such pain. Her forgiveness for all his slights seemed impossible indeed. He turned and walked slowly to the door, aware of the sharpness of the glare she aimed at his back.

He opened the door, but could not make himself step through. He had promised himself to be honest with her and he would be so, even if he appeared to be making excuses for his behaviour.

He turned. ‘You are correct. Until I won the money, I could not risk begetting a child. It was not an easy sacrifice, however, knowing you were just on the other side of this door.’

She stared at him, her silence giving him no reward for his abstinence, nor respite from his conscience.

He took a breath and tried to make the corners of his mouth form a smile. ‘Another matter I ought to have explained to you.’ He bowed to her and crossed the threshold, closing the door behind him.

E
mily picked up a shoe from the floor and flung it at the closed door, but it fell short and he probably did not hear it. She collapsed upon the bed, tears stinging her eyes.

What a fool she had been. He put the blame upon himself, but she knew better. She had deliberately withdrawn from him, deliberately avoided challenging him about his nightly absences, deliberately avoided challenging him in any way at all. Merely hiding herself from him lest he discover the biggest secret of all.

She loved him. She wanted him. And had from the moment she had seen him in the Pump Room at Bath.

She jumped off the bed and paced the room, tripping over her other shoe, picking it up, and throwing it against the wall.

How stupid she had been, so sure of the superiority of her unfailing correct behaviour, so certain he would not wish to pay attention to a drab creature such as herself. She’d had to transform herself into another person in order to have the courage to make love to him.

Now everything was ruined. He’d given her the means of leaving him and perhaps, for his sake, she should do it.

Not what I want
, he’d said.
What you want.

Lady Widow would have no difficulty telling him exactly what she wanted. Lady Widow would insist on having her way.

But she could not be Lady Widow, no matter how much he thought Lady Widow a part of her. She could not be so bold, so sure of herself.

She picked up the emerald green gown, recalling how well it had flattered her figure and colouring. She threw it across one of the chairs. On the table she spied the silk mask. She reached for it, crumbling it into her fist and striding over to the fire. She threw it at the flames, but it fluttered to the hearthstone as if thrown back to her.

She snatched it up again, suddenly knowing what she wanted. With all her heart, she knew exactly what she wanted.

And she knew exactly how to get it.

Guy had kicked off his shoes and thrown his jacket and waistcoat on a chair. He pulled the knot out of his neckcloth, letting its ends dangle down his shirt.

It would be nonsense to think of sleeping. He rummaged around the room until he found the bottle of brandy he’d brought there the other night when desire and need clawed at him. Sitting at the small table, he poured himself a drink and downed it in one gulp. He poured another.

She’d be a fool to stay with me
, he thought, and he thought her anything but a fool.

The branch of candles in his room fluttered. In the doorway connecting their rooms she stood fully dressed, with a paper in her hand. Had she decided to leave him so soon?

She walked towards him. The light revealed her wearing the green dress she’d worn earlier that evening.
Though her hair was still loose about her shoulders, she wore Lady Widow’s mask.

In Lady Widow’s voice she said, ‘If you like gaming so much, Lord Keating, perhaps you would fancy another game of piquet. It is what I want. A game of piquet.’

‘Piquet?’ A glimmer of hope kindled inside him. He gave her a slow, careful smile. ‘So sorry, ma’am. I have sworn off gambling.’

She sidled towards him, so close her skirt brushed his knees, and waved the paper at him. It was the banknote. ‘You do not wish to play for money? Very well.’ She let the paper float to the floor.

Every sense in his body came alive, and he had thought never to feel anything again but pain. ‘What stakes do you desire, then?’ he asked, his voice husky.

‘As before,’ she purred. ‘You win a round, I remove one piece of clothing. I win, and you remove a piece of clothing.’

He stood, so close he already felt the warmth of her body. He combed his fingers through her unbound hair, every bit as soft as he expected.

She placed her hands on his chest, the touch of her fingers stealing his breath.

‘One condition,’ he said, brushing her hair off her shoulders and reaching around to the ribbons at back of her head. ‘No masks.’

As the piece of silk fell from her face, her arms encircled his neck.

‘No masks ever again, Emily,’ he whispered, letting his hands run down her back, eager for a lifetime exploring every curve.

She lifted her hand to his face, her caress so soft and full of promise it claimed his heart forever.

‘No masks,’ she said, her lips smiling as they reached to touch his. ‘You may wager on it.’