Highest Stakes (39 page)

  "The King's Plate is to be run in Newmarket day after tomorrow. Surely Sir Garfield will attend, and the event will last several days. If he is unaware of your departure, the deed will be done before he's the wiser."

  "You must go to Newmarket and keep Sir Garfield diverted long enough for us to get to Scotland," Robert said.

  "Newmarket? I suppose I could manage the sacrifice." Philip grinned. It would be no great hardship to pass a few days in three of his four best-loved activities: uninhibited drinking, gaming, and racing. Now if there were women as well…

  Robert continued to mull over his plan. "But what should we do after the wedding? What then?" he mused aloud.

  Philip laughed in mocking exasperation. "My dear boy, if you don't know what to do with the woman once you have her, there's no help for you!"

  "That's hardly what I meant, Drake! If we do succeed, what shall become of Charlotte once I depart for the Continent? Even if I could find suitable apartments for her, I can scarce leave my new bride alone in London for who knows how long. And I refuse to see her as a camp follower."

  "Let's consider the potential outcome, shall we? If naught goes awry, you will shortly have your precious Charlotte. I will have my heiress and her substantial dowry. Edmund will be jilted and humiliated, which is a bonus unto itself. Devington, the entire scheme so pleases me, I'll make you a wedding gift of a thousand pounds if you carry it off! You may then set her up comfortably in Flanders with the other officers' wives."

  "A thousand pounds, Philip? 'Tis a small fortune."

  "With Beatrix's dowry, I can afford to be munificent. All things considered, a thousand pounds is a veritable bargain." Philip chuckled. "You see how fortunes can change on a whim?"

  "Then I'm decided. I shall go tonight and fetch my bride."

  "I had begun to doubt you had the ballocks to pull it off, my friend."

  As he thought through his plan, Robert ignored the jab. "We need to move quickly. Inconspicuously. Horseback," he said suddenly. "We must ride out of London and later pick up a stage from a coaching inn. We shall need Amoret, Philip. Charlotte needs a fast horse."

  "This may not be such a good idea. It may be overtaxing to the mare and the girl."

  "No need to fret; she won't ride all the way to Scotland. We just need to get a good start. Besides, the mare is rightfully Charlotte's to begin with. It's just a loan. By the hand of Providence, we'll be in Gretna Green by week's end if you ensure us that head start."

  "You need not fear on that account. Newmarket will be bustling. Upon my word, I'll contrive to keep Sir Garfield busy, but my involvement goes no further, Devington. If aught goes awry, I can know nothing of your elopement… nothing, you understand." His gaze was intent. "I shan't jeopardize my own plans and future, even for our friendship."

  "I fully understand your faithful and consistent commitment to your self-interests, Drake," Robert said.

  "Just so. It's vital we understand one another on this point. Furthermore," Drake added, "I caution, as your superior officer, that we could be called back at a moment's notice. Should this occur, you must abort the scheme at once."

  "I am painfully aware of the need to conduct my business expeditiously. Don't worry about me; you just don't lose your shirt on the races. We'll need that thousand pounds when all is done."

  "Don't fret for my shirt; instead, you take care not to lose your ballocks. You'll have need of
them
when all is done!"

"Is there any word yet, Letty?" Charlotte asked anxiously.

  "Aye, miss. I've a note delivered by the coachman. He's an easy enough bribe, that one."

  Charlotte took the note from Letty, reading it with trembling hands.

  "What is the news from yer cap'n that has ye so fretful?"

  "He has proposed an elopement this very night." She spoke with mixed emotions of elation and despair. How on earth could they accomplish it with so little time to plan?

  Letty's face lit with excitement but wilted at Charlotte's tearful expression. "Why are ye crying, miss? Ain't it what you've wanted?"

  "Aye, Letty, it's what I most wish, but 'tis impossible!"

  "Miss, sometimes love runs a crooked course, but it don't mean ye can't get there eventually. The cap'n don't see no other way, to be sure. Lest ye want to find yourself hitched to his high-and-mighty lordship, you'd best take off to Scotland with the young cap'n."

  "But if we are caught, my uncle will pull Robert before the magistrate so fast our heads would spin. He would face kidnapping charges, and I would be forced to repeat wedding vows to that wretched viscount. I couldn't bear it!"

  "There now." Letty handed Charlotte a handkerchief to dry her eyes and blow her nose. "Surely there is a way. We just need to think of sommat to keep ye confined to your room for a spell, sommat that would give ye time to get to Scotland afore you're noticed missing."

  "But how, Letty? How can I possibly buy us enough time to get to Scotland undiscovered?" She racked her brain for what to do. "How can I disappear without anyone's notice? I pled a headache when we stole away to Doncaster for the race, but it was only one night. 'Tis not an ailment that would keep Beatrix and Aunt Felicia away for days."

  "Nay, not the headache," Letty mused aloud. "We need sommat else to keep folks away from ye, another ill. What ills could ye fake that would keep ye confined for a time? Not consumption, nor the smallpox. There's no way to invent them telltale blisters. Now think… what ailment could we fake?"

  "Fever?" Charlotte answered. "Fever could be feigned any manner of ways."

  "I don't ken that fever alone would keep yer aunt away from ye."

  "Letty, I have it!" Charlotte exclaimed.

  "What, miss?"

  "It was in the paper just today. Lady Sophia Fermor had to postpone her wedding with Lord Carteret because she has contracted scarlet fever."

  "Scarlet fever? To be true, 'tis very catching and 'twould keep ye confined for a for'night or more. I had it m'self as a lass. Shouldn't be too hard to invent, neither. A pot of rouge to pink yer cheeks, a touch of white face paint around the mouth. A bit of onion juice to shine yer eyes, and a hot brick under the blankets to make ye feel feverish. None will come near ye for fear of catchin' it. Jest trust Letty. We'll have ye married off sure enough." Letty grinned mischievously.

  "Then we shall be off to Scotland this night. Letty." She paused.

"I shall need your aid to help cover my tracks, but when my Uncle discovers me gone..." She regarded her former nurse with a worried frown.

  "Now don't ye worrit yerself about me, my lambkin. Let's just think how to get a message to yer captain in time."

  "I'll write a note, Letty, and give you money for a hackney to Horse Guards. We don't have much time."

  "Aye, miss. Now get yourself undressed and into the bed. I'll fetch the brick and slip into her ladyship's room for the face paint."

  Hearing of Charlotte's malaise, Lady Felicia went immediately to her niece's room, but she stopped just short of the door when she perceived Charlotte's fever-glazed eyes, rubicund cheeks, and blanched mouth, all signs characteristic of scarlet fever. There must be an epidemic, she thought with a flutter of alarm. Just this morning, she had read of Lady Sophia Fermor's suffering the same fate.

  "How is she, Letty?"

  "She's feverish, ma'am, and needin' rest, but 'tis not so severe a case. A se'nnight in bed should see her right as rain, and I can nurse her for you. I've had the illness afore."

  "But we were to attend the grand opening of Vauxhall. How am I to explain to Lord Uxeter?"

  "She's in no condition to go out, ma'am, aside from it's very catching, you ken."

  "You will keep me apprised should her condition worsen?" Lady Felicia asked.

  "Indeed, ma'am."

  Once Lady Felicia departed, Letty slipped out and hailed a hackney to deliver her to Horse Guard headquarters, where she located Captain Devington.

  Recognizing the woman immediately, Robert flushed with panic. "What is it, Letty? Is something come of Charlotte?"

"Just the scarlet fever." Letty chuckled.

His concern heightened. "Charlotte's ill!"

  "Nay, Cap'n Robert," she explained. "I come to tell ye we devised a plan, Charlotte and me. She's faking the illness."

  "Is she?" he repeated, relieved and impressed with their resource fulness.

  "His lordship arrives at eight with his carriage. The miss will remain abed with hope they all depart without her. Once the house is empty, she'll meet ye by the garden gate."

  "None could have devised a better plan, Letty. Pity you are a woman. His Majesty's army could use more talented strategists," he said with a grin.

  "Sure enough we made a plan, but ye'll have to execute it wi'out mishap," Letty cautioned.

  "The hour is growing late. You had best go before you are missed. Tell her I shall meet her as planned."

  Letty paused. "Godspeed to ye both, Cap'n."

The elegant black town carriage with the gold emblazoned crest arrived at precisely eight o'clock. Lord Uxeter, elegantly attired in black velvet evening dress, alighted from his carriage only to learn from a flustered Lady Felicia that his affianced had suddenly taken ill.

  "The
Times
wrote of a city-wide epidemic," she artfully dissembled. "I should have sent a note, but we have just learned of it, you see." She offered the anxious apology, correctly surmising that his lordship was not possessed of a compassionate nature.

  "How very unfortunate for her, but if we are soon to be wed, we must be seen about in polite society." He spoke coldly.

  "But surely you would not wish her taken from her sick bed?"

  Gaining some mastery of his temper, Lord Uxeter replied, "A

ridiculous notion. Pray pardon my fit of pique, Lady Wallace. My deep disappointment prods my ill humor." His words were solicitous, but his manner barely concealed his displeasure. Damne
d
inconsiderate chit!

  "We shall say nothing more of it, my lord."

  "But 'tis such a lovely evening to waste, is it not, Mama?" Beatrix interjected. "And Lord Uxeter has gone to so much trouble on our account, Charlotte would not wish for
us all
to miss the opening night. She would never be so selfish. Would she, Mama?" The question was posed rhetorically.

  Lord Uxeter felt the trap closing about him. Would he be forced to bear alone the company of these two most fatuous and vulgar specimens of womanhood? His distress was alleviated only by the timely arrival of Sir Garfield and Charles Wallace.

  "What ho, Uxeter!" Sir Garfield clumsily stepped out from the sedan chair and eagerly approached.

  Edmund visibly flinched, anticipating another assault, but Sir Garfield, anxious to bring his son to the viscount's notice, offered only a perfunctory bow in greeting. He then put forward the honorable Charles Wallace, only son and heir to the Yorkshire baronetcy. Introductions accomplished, he amiably remarked, "Off to Vauxhall, eh?" He suddenly took notice of his niece's absence. "Where the devil's Charlotte?" he demanded.

  "She's taken ill, Sir Garfield."

  "The devil you say! Blast the girl!" he cursed.

  Lord Uxeter, whose attention was drawn to the fresh-faced Charles Wallace, responded with greater compassion than he had previously expressed. "I doubt there is cause for alarm. The illness will soon pass with my betrothed in such capable hands."