The Wicked Wager (6 page)

“Your mother should have reached London
today, Emma. I am sure you will hear from her soon.”

“Yes, uncle, she had to return to push back
the wedding preparations.” Emma looked at him hopefully. She needed a chance to
argue her case. A year was simply too long to wait.

“Good, good, I am sure she will have
everything organised properly,” he replied, quickly turning away from her.

There went her chance. The duke seemed to
guess her train of thought and never allowed even an inch for her to begin
stating her case. He will now change the topic, she thought bitterly
.

She was proved right when the duke, after
accepting a cup of tea and a slice of rich fruit cake from the duchess, said,

“I have some news. I have some old friends
coming to stay. Sir Henry Barker, his wife, and their daughter Prudence. I am
sure both of you will enjoy having a young lady around the house. While you, my
dear, can spend some time with your bosom friend, Mrs Barker. I know how fond
you are of her.”

The duchess winced, but the expression of
distaste was quickly changed to delight.

Emma was sympathetic. The last thing they
would enjoy was to have Prudence amongst them.

Prudence was as flighty as they came. Her
only topic of conversation consisted of the number of conquests she had made.
She was a year younger yet had been out from the age of sixteen. It was no
surprise she was still unmarried. The moment she opened her mouth, it sounded
like a thousand nails scratching against steel. Her mother was an older version
of her, though age had not dampened her enthusiasm.

Catherine was the only one whose smile was
genuine. She prettily thanked her father for the news and set about making
plans for their entertainment.

Catherine would not have looked out of
place with a halo around her head, thought Emma irritably.

They finished their tea leisurely.
Thereafter, the duchess retired to rest in her room, and Lady Babbage followed
her. The duke left for his study while Catherine and Emma settled down for a
good gossip.

“I haven’t been able to speak to you alone
as your mother was here. Now that I have you all to myself, you must tell me
what the earl is like.”

“Handsome, rich, and an earl.” said Emma
smirking,” Got him from right under Miss Clearwater’s nose.”

“Do you love him?”

“Very much.”

“Have you told him that you love him?”

“No, he never asked.”

“But has he told you he loves you?”

Emma frowned, and then said slowly, “He has
not, but he does not need to say the words. He behaves as if he does.”

“Are you sure he loves you? Forgive me, but
I think of you like a sister, and I have never had any other siblings. You are
the closest thing to it. You deserve to marry for love, and if he hasn’t told
you, then how can you be certain?”

Emma thought of the earl in his shabby
clothes sleeping in the servant’s quarters and smiled a secret smile.

“I am certain. One just knows these things,
Cat. You will too when your time comes. Sometimes actions show a lot more than
words can tell.”

“Well, then I am truly happy for you.”

“You want to know something more. Now, out
with it, Cat. I know you too well. You can hide your thoughts from others but
not from me.”

“Fine then, here is what I truly want to
know. Has he kissed you?”

Emma grinned and replied, “Many times”

“Many times? But is that allowed?”

“No, but he still did,” said Emma laughing.

“I have never been kissed.”

“I know, I think everyone knows. You look
untouched, I don’t know what man will be brave enough to breach that innocence.
Yet I know you are warm, loving, and loyal. I am sure you will find a worthy
man. If nothing else, the duke will make sure of it.”

Catherine reached over and hugged Emma
affectionately.

“Seeing you so happy, I do want to fall in
love … now I really should practice the piano if I am to catch the right man. I
hope to enthral him with my accomplishments if nothing else. I have neglected
it shamefully, and I am sure so have you. With my coming out next year, I have
to win the ton over with more than just my status.”

“Still so modest. Fine, I shall hear you
play, and after listening to dozens of women throughout the season who sounded
like shrieking cats, your skill will be a pleasure to hear.”

They spent their time together just as they
had countless times before. Each comfortable in the other’s company, though
Emma wished she could truly confide in her cousin and discuss all the wonderful
feelings the earl aroused in her. For once she knew her cousin would not
understand, and she hated keeping anything from her.

She hoped Catherine would find someone to
love her so the gap that had sprung up between them could be closed for good.

***

“Did anyone see you on the way?”

“No, and don’t worry. I doubt they would
even care that I am talking to a gardener old enough to be my grandfather. I
can pretend I am learning the secrets of plants and flowers to please my future
husband. A new hobby for the earl’s future wife to have … and I still
refuse to kiss you … you smell.”

“How charming. I always enjoy your
delightful compliments.”

“I feel like I haven’t met you since you
have donned this disguise. I keep looking for the earl I know behind that
theatrical getup.”

“I agree, Em, we need to find a way to
meet. The gardens are too risky. They are large, but even though you feel
hidden you never know who else is hiding and watching. It is like the trees are
not only hiding us from others, but they could be hiding others from us … dash
it, I am making no sense whatsoever.”

“I think I understand. I will have to think
of a way to meet you some place where you do not have to disguise yourself.
Tell me, how it is living amongst the servants?”

“Pickering is a nightmare. That is the
butler. He rules the house, and the housekeeper is having a torrid affair with
him. She does all he says. I mean, the man looks as if he is made of stone. The
other day I walked by the scullery maid, who had the audacity to pinch my
bottom, and Pickering saw the entire thing and not an expression crossed his
face, while I was decidedly outraged.”

“Was she pretty?”

“Who?”

“The scullery maid.”

The earl thought about it and said
slowly,”Yes, she is actually. Her name is Maria, and I was a bit surprised she
was paying any attention to an old man like me.”

“You are not old.”

“Yes, but she does not know that.”

“Hmmph, you seemed to be having fun.”

The earl glanced at her face and then asked
in an amused tone, “Why in the world are you angry, Em?”

Emma stalked off towards the rose garden.

The earl forgot to hobble as he almost ran
to catch up with her.

“Are you jealous, Em?”

Emma glared at the laughing earl.

“I have no reason to be jealous.”

“You know what it means when one is
jealous, don’t you?”

“I am sure you will tell me, though I
repeat, I am
not
jealous.”

“You doth protest too much, and your face
gives you away.”

“Oh, do go away!”

“Not before I tell you what I think. I
think your jealousy means that you …”

“Is anything the matter, Emma?” came the
duke’s voice.

Emma almost screamed aloud. She quickly
scanned her surroundings.

The duke was standing a few feet away.
Thankfully, he was too far to have heard their whispered conversation.

“Careful,” the earl hissed, snapping her
out of her distress.

“I was just discussing roses with the
gardener here, uncle.”

“You looked angry. Was he bothering you?”

“Oh, no, I was just wondering about black
roses. The gardener said there were no such things, while I was telling him
that I saw some at the last funeral I went to. It’s all the rage in London … at
funerals,” she finished lamely.

The duke turned and surveyed the gardener.

The earl had surreptitiously stooped once
more to give the illusion of an aged man.

“How do you account for a black rose being
seen by Emma if you insist there are none to be found?”

The earl heard the threat in the duke’s
voice. He could not deny having argued with Emma, while he could not suddenly
agree with her either. The duke would not like it if he called Emma a liar.

“A rose is a woody perennial within the
family Rosaceae. The name comes from the Latin root, Rosa. In nature the colour
of roses always ranges from white to dark red and at times yellow. What miss
may have seen was a rose that had been cut and placed in a jar of water mixed
with black ink. The result would be a rose stained black. It could also have
been sprayed with black paint.” The moment the words came out of the earl’s
mouth, he knew he was making a big mistake.

The stress of the duke almost catching them
red handed had made him babble nervously. He felt as if he were once again
standing in front of his botany professor. His carefully acquired accent had
faded away to reveal a more polished one.

The duke eyed him silently, and then asked
softly,

“What is your name? You seem well read for
a gardener.”

“Shufflebottom, Your Grace. My previous
master, who has now long departed this world, had taken me under his wing when
I was a mere lad, and he taught me to read and write a little. I could have
become a clerk or some such, but I always loved gardening, and he encouraged
me. I had no inclination towards improving my education as I was hopeless in
every other subject. All I cared about was plants. In fact, my current master
sent me this way because I became melancholy in London. The city is very dark,
and I missed the green …”

“I see, and you were the one recommended to
me by Lord Grey?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Who did you work for before?”

“Lord Hamilton”

“The one currently engaged to Emma?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

This entire conversation felt more
suspicious than the earl would have liked. He had played the entire scene more
than once in his head. The ending and, for that matter, the beginning had always
been more satisfactory. He was sure the duke was aware that he was a fraud.

The duke’s eyes stayed on his face a little
too
long before he turned away.

“Emma, walk with me.”

Emma glanced at the earl nervously and then
followed the duke. She could do nothing else.

“Emma, have you seen that gardener before?”

Emma took a moment to answer, “Uncle, I …
that is, mother and I had visited the earl at his home in London. He had been
entertaining his sister at the time, and I had noticed the gardener. I did not
recall him until he mentioned working for the earl just now.”

“I see. Why were you walking about alone?”

“I woke early, and I sometimes like to walk
before breakfast. My maid felt out of sorts, so I let her sleep. I did not have
the heart to disturb Lady Babbage.”

“Next time, Emma, stay indoors unless you
have a suitable chaperone.”

“Yes, uncle,” she replied quietly.

He could have been extremely angry, but his
mind seemed preoccupied. She wondered uneasily if the earl had made him
suspicious. The duke would have to investigate now, and that meant she would
have to go through his letters and make sure the earl’s secret stayed safe.

Emma silently cursed the earl and his
foolish babbling. It was hard to hide his upbringing, and he had not had enough
time to prepare. Still, this was his own foolish plan to begin with.

Oh! Why did he have to spout Latin now of
all times?

“You seem disturbed, my dear … is anything
the matter?”

Emma looked at Lady Babbage in surprise. She
had never expected the woman to be so perceptive. Even Catherine was unaware of
the turmoil raging inside her.

She was worried about the earl, and she was
sure the duke would start his investigations soon. She would have to steal into
his study and go over his letters. She could not afford to have the duke
delving into the head gardener’s background by writing to Bow Street Runners or
private investigators.

Her father’s denials of sending a gardener
could no longer be waived off either. Richard would receive any correspondence
written to him, but the entire scene of the morning might prompt the duke not
to trust him.

This charade was getting harder by the day
and the lies piling up.

“No, I am alright. I woke early this
morning, so I am a trifle tired.”