The Fortune Hunter (11 page)

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Authors: Jo Ann Ferguson

BOOK: The Fortune Hunter
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Frye groaned and hid her face in her hands. “Alas, what did I do wrong? What lesson did I fail to teach you?”

Realizing that her abigail was crying again, Nerissa knelt next to her. She patted Frye's chubby arm and whispered, “Dear Frye, tell me what you fear, so that I may put your mind to ease. I was just funning you.”

Color darkened the maid's pale cheeks. “You are a lady of standing, Miss Dufresne, but not of money. If you ruin your reputation, you shall find no decent man to wed you when Lord Windham tires of you and practices his fascinating arts on the next innocent maiden who falls prey to his charm. Do not give the gabblemongers the fodder to destroy you, even if you have given him your heart as well as …” She shuddered and pressed her hands to her lips.

“You think that I … that he …” Nerissa's astonishment prevented her from saying more.

Frye nodded.

“But why?”

“I found money in your drawer when I was putting away your clean chemises. So much money, and I know you did not have it before
he
began calling with his lavish gifts.”

Nerissa rose to sit in the chair and clasped her hands in her lap. “The only gift Lord Windham has given me was the bonnet to replace the one that was ruined. An untoward gift I own, but, as he is a proud man, he hoped the gift would say what he found difficult.”

“And the money?”

“I won that playing whist with Lord Windham and his friends. I assure you that, while you are sitting with the others belowstairs, he is not paying me to play anything else with him.”

“Miss Dufresne!”

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. “Was this attack started within this household? If so, you may tell its originator, whom you should know better than to heed, that Lord Windham does not consider me a bit of muslin for his enjoyment. Lord Windham offers me the respect any gentleman should offer a lady.”
Except at the card table
, she amended silently.

“I am sorry, but I had to know. When Had … when the one who spoke of this sounded so sure, I needed to put my heart to rest.”

“You may put your heart to rest as well as reassure everyone in this house and beyond that Lord Windham and I have only cards in common.”

Frye continued to buzz around while Nerissa finished getting dressed, continually apologizing for her lack of faith in her charge. Nerissa did not chide her, for she did not wish to hurt her abigail more. To perdition with Hadfield! His cruelty was now aimed at hurting those she cared for as well as at her. Cole refused to listen to her requests to send him packing, and the only way she could convince him would be to bring him proof. Hadfield was too sly to allow that.

When it was announced that Lord Windham waited below, Nerissa hurried down the stairs. Frye followed, her steps lighter than they had been all day. Nerissa was about to greet the viscount, but halted when she heard a soft click.

She looked toward Cole's book room. The door was ajar. She considered calling to him to come and meet Lord Windham, then changed her mind. Such a meeting was certain to be awkward, for Cole would talk of nothing but his canal. She wanted to avoid any further discomfort this evening.

“How lovely you look tonight,” Mr. Windham gushed with his usual graciousness. “Don't you think so, Hamilton?”

“The dress does look better without the bruises to clash with it.”

“I'm pleased you think so,” Nerissa answered quietly.

Lord Windham's dark brows rose along his forehead, but she said nothing more as he settled her lacy cape over her shoulders.

“The greenhorns are waiting for us to trounce Seely and Rowland tonight,” he said as he opened the front door.

“If luck is with us.”

“It will be.”

Nerissa was about to reply when she heard another muted sound behind her. As she walked out onto the steps, she looked back to see Cole's door was now firmly closed. She wondered what he had hoped to see. A flush climbed her cheeks when she feared he had listened to Hadfield's lies as well. She must set him to rights in the morning.

Hamilton tapped his foot on the marble floor in time with the lush music coming from the opposite end of the room. This was not at all the night he had planned. He had hoped for a rousing game of cards with fevered betting to take his mind off Mallory's first report. Not that the Bow Street Runner had told him anything new. His quarry
had
come to Bath, and there was no sign of him having left. Somewhere in this small city, the man, who had stolen thirty thousand pounds from his father, resided in luxury on that money.

Blast it!
Seely was drinking himself fuzzy while Rowland was busy playing the lady-killer with Mrs. Monroe and acting as if he was no more than a lad suffering his first calf love.

His eyes narrowed as he saw his brother in intense conversation with Miss Dufresne. She had said scarcely a score of words to him, but seemed eager for his brother's company. That should be all for the good. Yet an emotion he had pledged never to suffer again suffused him, wrenching his gut.

Blast it!
He had put jealousy behind him when Elinor gave him the bull's-feather with her parade of lovers.

Hamilton was halfway across the room before he realized he was about to charge in on their conversation. Slowing his steps, he heard a loud laugh.

“Quite the primitive, wasn't he? Knocking the poor girl on the head to get her attention?”

He recognized the voice as Seely's, although it was blurred with hazy. His hands curled into fists when he heard Randall Oakley reply.

“He seems to have gotten what he wants. She is living in his pocket.” He cursed, then said, “I must speak to Mrs. Ehrlich about urging her youngest to dissolve her friendship with Miss Dufresne. It would not look good for my sister-in-law to be a bosom bow of Windham's natural.”

“You think—”

“Without question, Seely. She is as poor as Job's turkey, from what I have heard from Miss Ehrlich. Windham clearly finds her amusing, although I hazard he will tire of her before the fortnight comes to a close.”

“I say,” Seely said, his voice bright with interest, “that he keeps her for a month.”

“I take your wager for … shall we say fifty pounds?”

Hamilton stepped forward and smiled. “Can you afford to lose that much, Oakley?”

The beak-nosed man had the sense to look embarrassed, but Seely gave a brandy-faced laugh. The baronet said, “Oakley is well-fixed, Windham. You know that. Otherwise, why would he be allowed to court Miss Ehrlich?” Winking bawdily, he added, “Convince Mrs. Ehrlich of young Philip's plump pockets, and your brother can have her youngest.”

“Did you chance upon a windfall, Oakley?” Hamilton asked. “I had heard you were nearly cleaned out on those foolish investments you made in the West Indies.”

Oakley scowled and stamped away.

Seely crowed with laughter. “You set his back up for him. He wants no one to know how he managed to impress his future mother-in-law with his worthiness.”

Hamilton stared after Oakley. Had his quarry been so close all along? He must have Mallory check to discover if Oakley was buying himself Mrs. Ehrlich's approval with Windham money.

“So tell me,” Seely continued, “is it true that Miss Dufresne is leaving her brother's house for yours?”

Hamilton arched a single brow before walking away. He did not wait to hear Seely's fuzzy answer. A smile edged along his lips. These rumors might prove to be most beneficial. If the attention of the
ton
was focused on an
affaire de coeur
, fallacy though it might be, between him and Miss Dufresne, his search could go unnoted, allowing him to discover the truth of Oakley's surprising wherewithal. The right word whispered in the right ear would propel the tale throughout Bath, even though …

His gaze returned readily to Miss Dufresne. Her lemon-yellow dress was the perfect foil for her sable hair. Watching her hands move gracefully as she emphasized a point to Philip, he thought of those slight fingers against his arm and his lips. She was alluring, and he could easily surrender to the fantasy of holding her even closer.

With regret, he knew he must halt the hearsay by ignoring it. No matter how much he wished to find the thief, he could not damage Miss Dufresne's reputation.

Blast it!

His smile returned as he realized he might be able to salvage something from this increasingly intricate set of circumstances. With a lighter step, he continued across the ballroom.

“Hamilton, where have you been hiding?” his brother asked as he neared.

“I have been looking for my partner at the board of green cloth,” he answered with a laugh. “You must allow me to steal Miss Dufresne from you, Philip.” Holding out his arm, he asked, “Shall we?”

“Yes, my lord,” Nerissa said with a smile. “Will you excuse us, Mr. Windham?”

He grinned broadly. “Never let me be the one to stand between Dame Fortune and her handmaiden. Good luck to both of you this evening.”

“You aren't joining us?” she asked, startled.

“I have other business.” He bid them a good evening and walked away.

The fury that had burned in Lord Windham's eyes that afternoon burst forth again as he stared at his brother's back. Knowing she should say nothing, Nerissa asked, “Why isn't Mr. Windham joining us for whist?”

“I will tell you, but not here.” Each word was clipped as it pushed past his taut lips.

The music faded into a hush as they climbed the stairs to the room which had been set aside for cards. When they entered, Nerissa was amazed to see it was empty. She turned as she heard the door close.

“My lord, the others—”

“Will be arriving shortly.” He leaned against the column edging the door and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pantaloons. “I wished a moment to speak with you without other ears listening as they were in your entry foyer this evening.”

Nerissa gasped, “You heard …?”

“Only the curiosity of your reclusive brother, which obviously demanded to be satisfied. You should reassure him, Miss Dufresne, that the tales of our intimacy, which are much in the air, are untrue.”

Color burned on her cheeks as he spoke so candidly of the whispers she had been unable to disregard this evening. “My lord, mayhap it would be for the best that I am not seen in your company again.”

He slowly closed the distance between them. When she would have taken a step back, she found a table blocking her way. Meeting his amused gaze, she lowered herself to a chair at the table. He put his foot on the chair next to hers and leaned forward so his eyes were level with hers.

“I fear that is impossible, for Philip is so taken with Miss Ehrlich that he will wish to call on you often in the hope that she might be giving you a look-in as well.”

“Your brother is not the problem.”

“I fear you are mistaken.” His finger touched the tip of her chin, and he smiled when her breath caught. “He is indeed one of the problems.” As he traced the curve of her jaw, he murmured, “I know you share your brother's curiosity, Miss Dufresne, and are most interested in where my brother flits to while we enjoy the good-fellowship of the card table.”

Nerissa wanted to shoot back a fierce retort, but his touch silenced her. She wanted to close her eyes and think only of his coarse skin brushing against her. When she looked up into his eyes, she could not look away. In them, she read frustration and pain. She was astounded that he was willing to bare even this much of himself to her.

“Has he entangled himself in something horrible?”

His laugh had a bitter edge. “You can't guess how right you are. He is arranging to buy the captaincy of a distant cousin who tires of the glory of battle on the Continent.”

“Captaincy?” A chill cut through her as she thought of Mr. Windham's bright effervescence against the blight of a battlefield. “Can't you halt him?”

He sighed and shook his head. “It appears not.” Taking her hand, he turned it upside down. His finger followed one of the lines in her palm. “There are those who believe a man or a woman can see their future in their hand. Philip, as recklessly, believes this is a way for him to do something of value. While he tells me that my place is among the peers in the House of Lords, he sees his in glorious battle. It does little good to mention that war is seldom glorious.”

“Yes if this is what he wants—”

“Are you mad?”

She recoiled from his naked pain. Setting herself on her feet, she said, “If you take that tone with him, I'm not surprised he refuses to listen to you.”

He reached to grasp her shoulders, but drew his hand back before he jostled her left arm. Cupping her chin in his hand, he brought her closer. His fingers splayed across her face, awakening sensations she never had guessed could possess such splendor. When her hand rose to the navy velvet of his sleeve, the glow in his eyes deepened to silver.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, “for you may be right. If what he wants is this chance for what he calls ‘a most magnificent honor', can I tell him no?” The corners of his mouth tilted. “I have told him no on many occasions, but I fear he will listen to his older brother no longer, for he takes great relish in reminding me that I have my own ridiculous goal that obsesses me.”

Nerissa asked before she could halt herself, “What is that, my lord?”

“You might find that the whole shall put you in whoops,” he said without a smile as he stepped away. Going to the next table, he picked up a deck of cards and shuffled them. “I seek something nowhere near as wondrous as a hero's laurels.”

“Are you trying to trip me the double, my lord, with your mystical talk?”

He chuckled. “How your eyes snap when you are in a pelter! I should have exasperated you before this.”

“You have!” When Nerissa put her hand to her lips as Lord Windham laughed, she found herself smiling as well.

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