Amanda Scott (25 page)

Amongst the first callers were her mother, her outspoken cousin, and Lady Ophelia. Lady Ulcombe received the visitors with her, and Melissa was glad that Charley expressed none of her stronger opinions before the countess rose and said that she knew Melissa would enjoy some moments of privacy with her family. “I’ll just go and tell the servants to deny you to anyone else until they leave, my dear,” she said, getting up and going out of the room without further ado.

The moment the door had shut behind her, Charley said frankly, “I’m glad that she’s gone. She is perfectly charming and very kind, of course, but I simply must know—How does marriage suit you, Lissa? What’s it like? Do tell us everything.”

“It suits me well, thank you,” Melissa said, smiling at her but turning at once to Lady Susan to ask, “How much longer do you mean to stay in London, Mama? I must tell you, I have been in a worry, because Charley told me that Papa—”

“Charlotte talks a great deal too much,” Susan interjected quickly, casting her niece a look of affectionate disapproval.

Melissa said, “He told me himself that you are not divorced from him here in England, so when Charley said that he had accused you of bigamy …” In the face of her mother’s quick frown, she fell reluctantly silent.

Susan said, “If I must be truthful, your father has made some ridiculous threats, but dearest Penthorpe assures me that he has already spoken to people who can arrange everything to our satisfaction, so you are not to trouble your head about it, Melissa.”

“Lissa, do you go with us Wednesday to Yarborne’s supper,” Charley demanded, “or will Vexford refuse to allow it?”

“He does not sit in my pocket,” Melissa said, “nor does he keep me in his. Indeed,” she added with what she hoped was the right tone of modern self-confidence, “he expects me to choose my own engagements and leave him to choose his. In any event, nothing in Yarborne’s invitation could displease him. The ladies’ supper is in aid of a most worthy cause, is it not?”

Charley chuckled. “Rockland says it’s nonsensical for a man of Yarborne’s stamp to be holding suppers for ladies, but I think he’s just curious to know what will go on there, and irritated because he was not invited.”

Lady Susan said, “You should not talk that way about Lord Rockland, Charlotte. He is a most eligible suitor for you, and not only does he seem to haunt Berkeley Square, but from what I’ve seen of him, he is very kind to you.”

“Sometimes he is,” Charley agreed with a twinkle in her eyes, “though I am not going to marry anyone, thank you, and I think he was rude to say that I shall lose all my pin money at Yarborne’s supper. I don’t mean to do any such thing, and if widows and orphans suffer as a result, well, that will just show that gaming suppers really are not a good way to raise money for charity.”

Lady Susan frowned. “I still don’t think it’s wise for you girls to attend such a function. I cannot like the fact that Yarborne was in any way connected with that dreadful auction, Melissa, and although Aunt Ophelia seems to have been right, and no one is talking about that, I did hear that he has been known to lend money at interest. That is not an activity that any gentleman ought to pursue.”

“Oh, Aunt Susan, please—”

“Mama, it was Papa who dragged me to Yarborne, after all, and I’m a married lady now. If my husband does not object to my attending Yarborne’s supper—”

Susan made a gesture of surrender and said, “Very well. I daresay I ought not to credit something I merely overheard. I shall not attend the supper myself, because dear Penthorpe has expressed a desire to attend the play at Drury Lane that Charley saw last week, but I’ll not stand in the way of your pleasure—especially,” she added with a smile, “since Aunt Ophelia means to accompany you.”

Melissa knew there was more to her mother’s decision not to go with them than Penthorpe’s wish to see a play. Divorced women were not received in society, and even without Seacourt’s threat to charge her with bigamy, Melissa knew that her mother feared ostracism. In any event, she and Charley would not require Susan’s escort to Yarborne House even if Lady Ophelia were not going with them, for Melissa, now a married lady, could properly act as her cousin’s chaperone.

The thought of trying to curb Charley’s impulsive nature was daunting, and the next evening when they entered the first-floor drawing room of Yarborne’s Bedford Square mansion in the wake of a bevy of other ladies, Melissa was glad Lady Ophelia had accepted that responsibility. Yarborne’s invitation had suggested something on the order of a silver loo party, but most of the furniture that must ordinarily have filled the large room had been removed to make way for gaming tables, and even Lady Ophelia paused with an audible gasp at the sight. An unwelcome memory of Newmarket’s Little Hell flitted through Melissa’s mind, giving her a strong urge to turn tail and run.

When a woman behind them dryly suggested that they step aside to make way for newcomers, Charley laughed and gave Melissa a nudge, exclaiming, “Only look at this place! It’s just as I’ve always imagined a gentlemen’s club must look.”

A masculine voice behind them said, “My intention exactly, Miss Tarrant. Does the sight amuse you?”

They turned to find Yarborne at their heels, and Charley said with another laugh, “Indeed, sir, what a treat this is! They told us at the door when we received our rouleaux and markers that supper will be served all evening upstairs, but I’m not the least bit hungry now. Is this the way all gentlemen’s clubs look? It does seem such a pity that they will never allow us inside their most sacred haunts.”

“That’s what I thought when I arranged this little entertainment,” he said, turning to Lady Ophelia with a smile to add, “Good evening, ma’am. May I ask Fenton here to find you a chair?” He gestured toward the liveried servant at his side.

“Thank you, but I believe I’ll stroll about a bit first,” Lady Ophelia said. “I am not decrepit, you know, just old. I’d no idea you meant to do this affair on such a grand scale, Yarborne.”

“I never do anything by half measures, ma’am. I daresay many of my guests expected to find nothing more than a silver loo party tonight, but I see that Miss Tarrant, at least, appreciates my little surprise. I hope you brought vast sums of money to lose to my cause, all of you. If you did not exchange it all for rouleaux and markers at the front door, any servant can attend to the matter for you at any time.”

Melissa said, “Are we destined to lose all we brought with us, then, my lord? Surely, these games of chance of yours will be fairly played.”

She saw with discomfort that his gaze flitted from her countenance down over her figure, as if he were assessing her worth again as he had done in Newmarket. The look was gone in a trice, however. Although she saw approval in his eyes when his gaze met hers again, he said as if the moment had never occurred, “The games, Miss—Ah, but it’s Lady Vexford now. Forgive me. I assure you, the games will be played just as they are at White’s, at Brooks’s, or at the Billingsgate Club. I’ve placed footmen and groom-porters at each table to instruct you in the rules of play and to see that all runs smoothly. If you win, you take your winnings home. If you lose, you contribute to my orphans. An amiable prospect in either case, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

Charley tossed her head. “Will you think me heartless if I declare that I hope to win a great deal of money, my lord?”

He shook his head, smiling at her. “No, indeed, my dear. That is why anyone plays. Just remember that many who go out for wool come home shorn, and the more you hope to win, the more likely you are to lose to my worthy cause.”

“He talks as if he thinks us fools,” Charley muttered when they left him with his servant still in close attendance, exchanging greetings with other newcomers.

“Men generally do take women for fools,” Lady Ophelia said, using the handle of her cane to fend off a woman who nearly backed into her. “Just do not give him more cause to think you one by contriving to lose all your money at his tables. I’d advise you both to play a little whist, as I intend to do if I can find a suitable partner.”

“Whist!” Charley’s tone was scornful. “I never heard of anyone winning a fortune at whist. I mean to break his faro bank.”

Melissa smiled at her cousin’s energy and said, “Which is the faro table? I’m utterly at a loss here, Charley. Do you know how to play any of these games?”

“No, but don’t be a goose, Lissa. This is the best chance we’ll ever have to see just what fascinates gentlemen so much that they become addicted to their gaming.”

Watching Charley approach one of the footmen to ask where the faro table was situated, Melissa decided that her cousin was right. Gaining made up a large part of Vexford’s life, and if she was ever to understand him, she must understand something of the world in which he spent so much time. The opportunity Yarborne provided was the best she was likely to get. She just hoped she wouldn’t lose all her money.

On Monday Vexford had given her ten pounds and told her to tell him when she needed more for such trifling items as she did not care to charge to his name. After the discussion between his father and brother, she had not felt comfortable reminding him what sort of evening this was, and asking for more. Thus, she was grateful when Lady Ophelia had demanded bluntly to know how much she had with her, and had given her twenty pounds more. Urged by her cousin to exchange the entire amount for rouleaux of sovereigns when they had first entered the house, she had done so, though their weight strained the seams of her reticule. Even in such a good cause, she did not want to lose it all, and she resolved to be frugal.

Charley caught her arm, urging her through the growing crowd of gaily dressed and heavily scented women to a table covered with green velvet and surrounded by players already enjoying the game. Melissa thought at first that cards had been laid out face up on the table, but she saw that they were only pictures enameled onto the velvet. Only the spade suit was represented, but as Yarborne had promised, she quickly caught on to the rules.

“Perfectly simple,” Charley said, leaning out to place a sovereign on the king and setting her marker atop the coin. “One bets which card will next be turned up.”

“Won’t be kings,” the lady beside her said quickly. “Two have turned up already, as you can see if you note the little markers.” She pointed to the king on the table, two corners of which bore round red markers. “Each time the porter turns a card, the footman marks its rank that way. Choose one that has not yet been marked.”

As Charley shifted her coin and marker to the queen, Melissa recognized their adviser as Lady Hawthorne. The blond woman smiled, fingered a fine emerald brooch on her gown, and said, “Good evening, Lady Vexford. I was present at your wedding, though I daresay you don’t remember seeing me in that crush. I am Clara Hawthorne.”

“Good evening, ma’am,” Melissa said, introducing Charley before she added, “Do you have any advice for me? On which card might win,” she added hastily when the older woman gave her an odd, measuring look.

“Good heavens, my dear, how should I know? I placed my own marker on the ace, but I daresay I shall lose my money. Indeed, I
must
lose a respectable amount before I leave here tonight, since I would not offend Yarborne for the world, and I’d as lief do it quickly. I’ve got another engagement at half past nine, you see.”

Seeing that the groom-porter was about to turn the next card, Melissa swiftly placed a coin and her marker on the nine. When he turned up the nine of hearts and set it atop the pile at his right, she stared in astonishment.

Charley exclaimed, “You’ve won, Melissa! You’ve tripled your stake! Winners get two for one!”

“Leave it where it is and copper it,” Yarborne said, appearing beside her.

When she looked at him in bewilderment, he smiled reassuringly. “Trust me, and I’ll share a secret of gaming success with you. If you look at what’s left of the pack from which Horton is drawing, you will see that very few cards remain. From the counters on the table, you can see that your nine of hearts is the first nine he’s drawn. With three left and so few cards remaining in the pack, the odds are increased that the next will also be a nine. Since the next goes to the left-hand pile as the house card, you must bet to lose, by placing a penny atop your marker. If you leave your stake where it is, and your winnings as well, your money could be increased sevenfold.”

“Oh, do it, Lissa!”

Charley’s advice being echoed by a number of others, Melissa did as she was advised and exclaimed nearly as loudly as her cousin did when the porter turned over the nine of clubs.

“Do it again,” Charley said, but Melissa shook her head, scanned the table to see what cards remained, and placed a single marker on the seven. She lost. After two more turns, only three cards remained, and Yarborne, still standing beside her, said, “Four to one now, ladies, to anyone who guesses the order of the last three cards. There are six possibilities. Who wants to wager?”

“I will,” Charley said instantly.

Melissa, feeling lucky and very wealthy, had begun to think of the coins as mere game pieces. She put five sovereigns down as her wager, and she won.

Lady Hawthorne said wryly, “With your luck, you ought to be playing hazard.”

“Indeed, you should,” Yarborne said with a laugh, “for it’s the only game in which my orphans gain from winners as well as losers. Since we’re playing English hazard, one plays against other players rather than against the house, so tonight the house keeps not only the money lost on nicks—which is when a throw goes against all players—but we also keep ten percent of the winnings, as well.”

“Do let’s try it,” Charley urged. “I daresay hazard may not be as easy to play as faro, but I expect someone will explain it to us, and I want to win a lot of money.”

“Well, you can do that at hazard, all right and tight,” Yarborne said. “I’ll take you over myself, and explain the rules of play to you. Fenton,” he added, turning to his ubiquitous servant, “fetch Lady Vexford and Miss Tarrant each a glass of champagne.”

Melissa allowed herself to be persuaded, feeling quite rich now with more than forty pounds of her own, and curious to understand more about the game so many gentlemen enjoyed. She was aware, too, however, that although great amounts might be won, as Charley hoped, men had lost entire fortunes at the hazard table.