Читать книгу Rake's Reward - Joanna Maitland - Страница 5

‘I have been waiting too many years for this, Hugo. Nothing you can say will make one whit of difference.’ Kit Stratton spoke with quiet certainty, smiling calmly across at his elder brother as if they were discussing the turn of a cravat, or a new blend of snuff. He lounged back in his chair, with one immaculately booted leg thrown carelessly over the arm, and watched his brother. It might have been Kit, rather than Hugo, who was the owner of this comfortable, book-lined study.

Sir Hugo Stratton ceased his angry pacing and stood looking down at his brother in obvious exasperation. ‘For God’s sake, Kit, you must be out of your mind,’ Hugo said bitterly. ‘Stratton Magna has been in the family for generations, yet you would risk losing it to that old harridan on the turn of a card. You cannot intend to go on with this senseless charade. Besides, it all happened years ago. Cannot you let it lie?’

‘No.’ Kit shook his head decisively. ‘You forget what she did to me…to us. She acted out of pure malice, Hugo, and I swore then that I would have my revenge on her one day. I mean to do it now.’

‘And it matters nothing to you that you could lose the family estate in the process? By God, I wish—’

‘You wish, now, that you hadn’t persuaded John to leave it to me in the first place, don’t you, Hugo?’

Hugo coloured a little. ‘John will be turning in his grave,’ he said. He sounded very near to losing his temper. ‘And I…’ He gave a snort of disgust. ‘What a fool I was. I was the one who persuaded John to leave Stratton Magna to you, instead of to me. I was the one who said that you needed land of your own in England, so that you would stop playing the rake in Vienna. I was the one who thought you would—’

‘Settle down and raise a brood of hopeful children?’ finished Kit sardonically, rising to refill his glass. ‘Never. Unlike you, I have no turn for the infantry, so I am more than content to leave the getting of Stratton heirs to you. You know very well that I have no intention of being caught in parson’s mousetrap. Much too close for comfort with Emma. If she hadn’t chosen you instead…’ He allowed himself a wry smile. He had been the brother who compromised the heiress, but Hugo had been the brother who married her—for Hugo was the brother she loved. Hugo and Emma had been married for five years now, their happiness shadowed only by the deaths of Emma’s father and of John, the eldest Stratton brother. Now Hugo was the head of the Stratton family, a baronet, and enormously wealthy. He had no need of the family estate at Stratton Magna.

Unlike Kit.

‘Believe me, I do appreciate your generosity,’ Kit continued, smiling still. He was determined to retain the upper hand in this encounter. ‘I can guess what you were thinking, you and John, when you decided to leave Stratton Magna to me. But, as the oldest surviving brother, you should have inherited the family estate, not I. If I had known what you were planning to do, I might have warned you of the risks you were running.’

‘Might you?’ said Hugo with biting sarcasm. ‘If I’d known what you were planning to do, I might have held my tongue. As it is—’

‘As it is, Stratton Magna is mine now and I can have my revenge on Lady Luce without breaking my word to you. I swore to you, then, that I would never gamble for more than I could afford to lose. Until I inherited the estate, I was in no position to come back to England and face her. Now, I can,’ Kit finished simply.

‘You could have come back for good when John died,’ Hugo said pointedly.

Kit sank back into his chair. It was now well over a year since John and his wife had died in that terrible carriage accident. The family had expected Kit to remain in England after the funeral, but he had not been prepared to oblige them. ‘I had…other things on my mind,’ Kit said, staring down into his wine. ‘Distractions, you might say, one of whom is now in London.’ He looked up at his brother. He could see that Hugo’s anger was waning now. ‘You may be sure that I learned my lesson well over Emma. Resolved then to devote all my attentions to ladies of…er…experience who would pose no threat to my single state.’

‘Provided their husbands did not catch you in their beds,’ put in Hugo sharply. ‘You might not have come off with a whole skin if they had challenged you.’

‘As it happens,’ Kit said with studied nonchalance, ‘I was caught out a couple of times. And I did come off with a whole skin.’

‘Good God!’ Hugo was laughing in spite of himself. He had always found it difficult to remain furious for long. ‘And how many of the poor cuckolds did you kill?’

‘None,’ said Kit with a bland smile. ‘That would have been ungentlemanly. I was guilty, after all. And the ladies in question were—’

Hugo shook his head decisively. ‘Enough of your diversions, Kit. We are not here to discuss your successes in the petticoat line. Heaven knows, half of Europe seems to be aware of those. We are here to discuss this preposterous proposal of yours. You cannot be serious. You could lose everything to that woman. And after the last time, surely you—’

‘After the last time, I have absolutely no intention of losing to her,’ Kit said emphatically, rising to his feet. He put a hand on his brother’s arm. ‘Nothing you can say will change my mind, Hugo. You cannot imagine how demeaning it was for me to be forced to come to you, cap in hand, to beg for the money to pay those debts. I knew that you would have to take it from the dowry of the lady I had compromised. Can you imagine how that felt? I may have been only twenty-two at the time, but, believe me, Hugo, it rankled. And it rankles still. I was a hair’s breadth away from utter disgrace.’

Hugo paused, gazing up at the huge portrait of Emma above the fireplace. He clearly had his temper well in hand now. ‘I do understand, Kit,’ he said at length. ‘But it was all a very long time ago. Everyone has forgotten what happened. You will simply stir it all up again if you challenge the woman. Let it lie.’

‘No. I cannot. I have spent five years waiting for this moment and I intend to relish it.’ He raised a hand as his brother made to speak. ‘Don’t be so ready to assume that I will lose this time. Believe me, I have no intention of doing so.’

The corner of Hugo’s mouth twitched slightly. The long scar on the side of his face was barely noticeable now, except where it twisted his smile. ‘And precisely how do you plan to ensure that, brother? Are you become a Captain Sharp in your time on the continent?’

Kit smiled ruefully. ‘No, though I have learned to recognise them pretty well. I have no need to cheat. All these years of play have improved my game immeasurably. You know well enough that I was always lucky with the cards and the bones. Nothing has changed there. I am just more practised than before. I have no doubt that I shall win…especially as I hear that Lady Luce seems to have lost her own knack for the cards. Did I not hear that she is called “Lady Lose” nowadays?’

Hugo nodded, somewhat unwillingly.

‘Good. That improves the odds even more. Lady Luce tried to ruin me then. Would have done it, too, if you had not paid my debts. I owe you. And I owe her. With Stratton Magna at my back, I shall see her in the gutter. And I shall rejoice at her downfall.’

Hugo was shaking his head despairingly, as if he did not understand how Kit could harbour such hatred for another human being. And for so many years. But if Hugo had spent years exiled on the continent, he too might have just such a ruthless attitude to Society. Kit had long ago concluded that people were there to be used for his own advantage. It did not pay to become close to anyone. That way lay disaster.

The third Earl Luce was pacing his mother’s opulent drawing room. ‘Mama,’ he said at last, ‘you cannot continue like this.’

The Dowager Countess took a generous mouthful of best madeira, savouring it as she swallowed. ‘For God’s sake, William, stop behaving like a caged elephant.’

The Earl stopped abruptly. He glanced at his reflection in the ornate, gilt-framed mirror—he was nothing like as large as an elephant. How dare she suggest anything so offensive?

She raised her lorgnette and peered at him. That piercing stare had unnerved him since he was five years old. Now, more than forty years later, it still did.

‘Continue like what, precisely?’ asked Lady Luce acidly.

Her son cleared his throat, ready to do battle on the one subject where he knew he had the whip hand. He was intending to enjoy this. ‘You cannot continue to gamble with money you do not have, Mama,’ he began. ‘You—’

Lady Luce used the arms of her chair to push herself into a standing position. Even then, she was considerably shorter than her son, and looked more than twice as wide in her old-fashioned hooped skirts. ‘And who, pray, is going to stop me?’ she said in an awful voice.

‘I am,’ he said, as stoutly as he could, but avoiding her gimlet eye. ‘I cannot afford to continue to pay your debts, Mama. You seem to forget that I have a family of my own to keep.’

His mother snorted. ‘How could I forget? Never seen so many confounded brats. You’re as bad as Clarence.’

‘Mama! How can you say such a thing? It is highly improper for a lady to mention illegitimate children, even if their father is a royal duke. And you know very well that I have never been unfaithful to Charlotte.’

‘No, because no other woman would look twice at you,’ snapped his mother, ‘even if you did have the money to dangle after them. It’s quite your own fault that you have sired ten children. And I do not see why my style of living should be curtailed to pay for them, just because you cannot keep your—’

‘Mama! Please!’

His mother looked hard at him and smiled nastily. She was clearly enjoying his embarrassment. One day, he would…

He turned his back on her and went to the window. If he did not have to look at her, it would be easier to tell her what she was to do. ‘My children are not in question here,’ he said, trying to keep his temper under control. ‘My father provided you with a very generous jointure. You do not even have to pay for the upkeep of this house. You have the means to live in considerable comfort, but you choose to gamble instead, relying on the assumption that I will always stand behind your debts.’

‘Balderdash,’ said his mother roundly. ‘You left me hanging in the wind when—’

Lord Luce spun round furiously. ‘That was five years ago, Mama, and it only happened once. You knew that I could not raise such a huge sum just then.’ He raised his hand to stop her from speaking. ‘Besides,’ he went on rapidly, ‘you came about soon enough, when you won all that money from Kit Stratton, did you not? You had no need of my backing.’

‘Did I not? I’ll have you know, you miserable apology for a whelp, that—’

‘No, Mama, you will not. You will listen to me. You will learn to live within your means. If you come to me just once more to pay your gambling debts, it will be the last time, I promise you. I shall let it be known that I will not pay in future. And who would accept your vowels then?’

‘You would not dare,’ she spat. ‘Your name would—’

‘Balderdash,’ he said, enjoying the feel of the word on his lips. Let her have a taste of her own medicine. ‘Society will agree that I have been too indulgent for too long. You may be an “original,” Mama, but Society tires of such entertainments in the end. I am the head of the family and I mean what I say.’

His mother stamped over to him and poked him in the chest. ‘Do you, William? Do you, indeed? Then understand this. I shall behave exactly as I please. If I choose to gamble, I shall do so, and nothing you can say shall prevent me. I shall stake my jointure and leave all my other bills unpaid. And I shall make a point of telling all of London that the Luce estate stands behind me, since otherwise I should end up in the Fleet. How would that please your sense of propriety, eh? The Dowager Countess Luce in debtors’ prison because her son would not pay her debts. What would all your fine friends think to that? And your sons, too. I am sure it would make for splendid sport at Eton.’

The Earl’s shoulders slumped. She had won again. She was not a woman, she was a witch.

‘Well?’ she said.

‘Mama, you must understand that I cannot afford it,’ he said, adopting a pleading voice. ‘The income from the estate has been poor ever since the end of the war. If there are any more major calls on me, I shall have to start selling the unentailed properties. Surely you cannot wish me to do that? It is all I have to leave to the younger boys.’

Lady Luce grunted. ‘I might think about it,’ she said grudgingly.

His tactics had worked. That was as near to a concession as he had ever won from her. ‘Perhaps if you had another interest, something to divert your mind—’ he began.

‘There’s nothing wrong with my mind,’ she snapped.

‘No, of course not,’ he said, trying to grapple with the brilliant idea that had just struck him, ‘but…a young companion might be just the thing.’

She fixed him with a steely gaze.

He quailed a little but continued. He could not refuse an opportunity to bridle the Dowager, however temporarily. ‘Let me look about for someone suitable,’ he said. Then he added, as a clincher, ‘I will undertake to pay all the costs of her keep. Your jointure shall remain at your sole disposal, as in the past.’

His mother gave him a very strange look. Then, to his surprise, she nodded briefly. ‘Yes, you are right. I could do with a young thing about the place.’

Victory! The Earl bowed over his mother’s hand. His wife’s bosom friend, Lady Blaine, would be bound to know of a suitable candidate. He would enlist her aid this very day. Now, he must make a speedy exit before his mother changed her mind.

He had just reached the door when she said, airily, ‘Just make sure she plays a good hand of piquet, William. At my age, I do not have time to start teaching gels how to play cards.’

‘Miss Beaumont?’

Marina spun round. She was being addressed by a liveried footman who was taking no pains to conceal his disdain at the sight of her shabby travelling costume and worn bonnet. Marina raised her chin a fraction. She might be poor and ill clad, but she was most certainly a lady. She would not allow herself to be daunted by a mere servant.

She narrowed her eyes as she looked at the young man. She was almost as tall as he was, she noted absently. ‘I am Miss Beaumont,’ she said in a frosty voice.

The footman could not hold her stern gaze. After a moment, he looked away. ‘Will you come this way, miss?’ he said, indicating the carriage that stood waiting to convey her across London to her employer’s house.

It was only a small victory—but it mattered to Marina. If she was to live in Lady Luce’s house, she must ensure that the Dowager’s servants treated her with respect. ‘Please see that my baggage is stowed safely,’ she said, pointing to the two old valises that contained everything she owned. The footman did as he was bid, picking them up as though they weighed nothing at all. ‘Thank you,’ Marina said with a smile.

The footman seemed taken aback for a few seconds, as if he were suddenly seeing a completely different person. Then he remembered his place and helped Marina into the carriage where she sank back against the cushions with a sigh of relief. She had arrived in London, at last. And in a very short time, she would be making her curtsy to the Dowager Countess Luce, the old lady who wanted a gay young companion to brighten her declining years. Marina had decided during the journey from Yorkshire that she could fill the role pretty well. She had often acted as companion to her grandmother in her final years, reading to her, playing or singing for her, even playing cards with her. In those last years, Grandmama had become most exacting, almost as if she were still entitled to be treated as the sister of a viscount. Lady Luce could not be any worse. Reclusive elderly ladies were all much the same, weren’t they?

Marina closed her eyes, trying vainly to shut out the noise and the overpowering smells. She had never imagined that London could be so full of raucous sounds—the cries of hawkers, each trying to outdo his neighbour, the shouts of draymen anxious to make their way through the bustle of traffic, the ring of horses’ hooves and carriage wheels, the underlying hum of a huge, pulsating city. At home, she had been used to the sounds and smells of farmyard animals, the cries of wild birds, and the howl of the wind across the moors. Nothing like this. She resisted the temptation to hold her nose or put her hands to her ears. If she was to live in London as companion to Lady Luce, she would have to become accustomed. She might as well start now.

Armed with this new resolution, Marina sat up and looked out of the window. She had no idea where she was, but the streets seemed to have become a little quieter. They were certainly more genteel than before: fewer hawkers, more gentlemen’s carriages. The houses had large windows and imposing entrances, some flanked by columns like a Greek temple. This was much, much grander than anything she had known in Yorkshire.

While Marina was studying the architecture on one side of the street, the carriage drew up at a house on the other. She had arrived! The footman, more deferential now, had jumped down to open the door on the far side and stood ready to help her out. As she stepped down, the front door was opened by a stately old man in black who was almost completely bald. What little hair he still possessed was white as snow and sat round his pate like a frill of cream round a pink pudding. He looked like something out of a fairy tale, Marina decided, though he should have been wearing a wizard’s robe rather than a butler’s uniform.

‘Welcome to London, Miss Beaumont,’ the butler said in an expressionless voice. ‘Her ladyship is waiting for you upstairs in her drawing room. Will you come this way, please?’ He turned and began to lead the way towards the imposing staircase.

Not now! Not yet! Marina looked down at her travel-stained clothing and her darned gloves. She needed time to make herself presentable before she was introduced to Lady Luce. The Dowager would take one look at her in this state and send her back to Mama by the first available coach.

Marina took a deep breath and paused just inside the door. ‘I am sure her ladyship does not wish to meet me until I have rid myself of the dust of the journey,’ she said in a voice that surprised her with its steadiness. ‘Have the goodness to bring me to a room where I may wash and change my dress first. The footman may bring my valises.’ Marina looked back to where the footman was extracting her luggage from the carriage.

The butler stopped short, then turned back and stared at her in apparent amazement for a few seconds. Finally, he coughed and resumed his earlier vacant expression. ‘As you wish, miss. Will you come this way? Charles, bring Miss Beaumont’s bags up to her room straight away.’

‘Yes, Mr Tibbs,’ replied the footman quickly, hoisting both bags with one arm so that he could close the front door noiselessly behind him.

Marina smiled to herself, a very little. She had just learned her second lesson. And so had Lady Luce’s servants.