Lady Alex's Gamble (14 page)
Tony urged Caesar forward so he could get a better look while Alex followed closely behind. Certainly the initial impression improved with proximity. The young lady's eyes were of the deepest blue and her mouth a delicate bow that curved into a shy smile as, under the watchful eyes of her groom, she acknowledged their passing nods.
"And that is all I shall know of her unless her horse bolts or casts a shoe at the precise minute I happen by," Tony groaned. "Why do you have to be my brother at this particular moment when I need a sister to discover her name and strike up an acquaintance?"
"Do not despair." Alex could not help chuckling at her brother's woebegone expression. "We shall contrive something. I only wish I had not sent Ned home with the 126
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carriage, for he could have entered into a casual conversation with the groom. Perhaps you should send your batman out tomorrow morning to exercise Caesar and he can become friendly with the man."
Tony was much struck. "'Tis a clever idea." Then gloom again descended. "But knowing someone's name does not equal an introduction. Besides, someone as lovely as that is sure to have hundreds of fellows around her."
"Don't be such a pudding-heart. Tony," his sister scoffed.
"If I had not seen some of your battle scars with my own eyes, I should think you a very poor creature. Where is the man who led his comrades against Soult's charges at Nive?
Does the concern over a certain woman's favorable impression unman you more than hails of bullets or cannon fire? Why—" Alex broke off at the sight of another rider approaching them, a rider whose significant height and proud bearing looked vaguely familiar. Surely it was not ... but, with a sinking heart, she realized that it was all-too likely that Lord Wrotham would be exercising his mount at such an hour, when the lack of people afforded ample room for truly strenuous activity.
Unfortunately, he seemed to recognize them too. He waved and there was no help for it but to make the best of the situation. Alex was thankful now for the amount of time she had spent at home at Halewood riding astride. All the remonstrances she had suffered at the hands of her mother and other despairing nurses were worth it because she felt confident of performing her part creditably now. Still, she had 127
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been hoping for a few moments of peace when she did not need to be on her guard. Now that chance was gone. What was an opportunity lost for Alex was, however, an opportunity gained for Christopher and he had seized upon it immediately. Here was an occasion to observe the de Montmorencys in an environment free from the distracting presence of other gamesters. As he had decided late last night after much thought on the matter, the best way to solve the riddle of Alexander de Montmorency was to question the man directly—and he was determined to gain some answers. Christopher greeted them cheerfully and then turned to Alex.
"I should expect to encounter a military man like Tony at such an hour, but for one who is not accustomed to camp life it is another matter indeed."
With difficulty Alex restrained the defensive retort that rose to her lips as she tried desperately to picture Alexander's probable reaction to such a remark. In truth, Alexander would have been in bed at this hour sleeping off the excesses of the previous evening. "Oh tolloll. 'Tis nothing. Such a fine day..." She waved an airy hand.
"But the concentration you exerted last night in order to rise a winner from the tables must have been rather wearing, to say the least." Wrotham continued to press her. Alex decided that her best defense against this probing was to adopt a vague smile, which she did, grinning like an idiot as she replied, "Yes, it was a rather amusing evening was it not?"
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"Most amusing," was the sardonic reply. "As was the one before it. You seem never to lose as even the best of us occasionally do."
"Winning streak, you know," Alex confided. The major's eyes narrowed. "In my life I have observed night after night of gaming and I do not ever remember Dame Fortune smiling so consistently on one particular person as she does on you."
Alex continued to look unconcerned, but all the while her mind was racing furiously. Was the man accusing her of cheating? If he were, what was she to do? Surely she would have to call him out. Even Tony, a little ahead of them, his mind still occupied with the vision he had just seen in the park, slowed his pace and was now listening intently to their exchange, though he tried not to give the appearance of doing so. Alex shrugged. "Very lucky fellow."
"I should say that luck had nothing to do with it." The major's voice was ominously quiet.
Alex remained silent, hardly daring to breathe.
"I should say that it was extraordinary skill." She let out her breath as imperceptibly as possible. At least he did not think her a Captain Sharp, but there still was a dangerous note of suspicion in his voice. Laughing foolishly, she turned to look at him incredulously.
"Yes"—the blue eyes bored into her—"I should say that a great deal of skill and concentration is being applied to your games and that you do not particularly wish for the rest of the world to be aware of that. Now why on earth would that be?"
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"Why indeed?" Though she longed to intone the phrase with accents of utmost dignity, Alex was forced by the role she played to adopt a whimsical air, smiling vacuously at her interrogator, who continued to scrutinize her with the most alarming look of comprehension in his eyes.
"I shall tell you why." He addressed her as crisply as he would any fractious and recalcitrant subaltern. "It is my belief that somehow you, or someone near and dear to you, owes a great deal of money and you have taken it upon yourself to win it back." It was the luckiest of guesses, thought up on the spur of the moment, Lord Wrotham admitted to himself, but he saw the green eyes widen for a fraction of a second before the fatuous expression returned. So, he had not mistaken his man after all. No one who played as expertly as Alexander de Montmorency, no one who took such a lively and intelligent interest in national affairs could truly be as much a buffoon as the Earl of Halewood was making himself out to be. "And," Wrotham continued silkily, "though I have the highest respect for your brother, who is obviously a valiant soldier, I do not see that Captain de Montmorency has the ability to be certain of winning a fortune at the gaming table." The barely imperceptible look of consternation that passed between the two brothers confirmed what had only been the merest of suspicions, but for some inexplicable reason, Christopher hastened to reassure them. "Believe me, your secret—whatever it is—is safe with me. I know it is none of my concern, but I have come to enjoy your acquaintance and if I may be of any assistance in helping you toward the 130
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successful completion of your scheme, I should be honored, if you would allow me to be."
Lord, he sounded a prosy prig, but for some reason he could not fathom, the major was determined to help these two. Perhaps it was because they, unlike many of the
ton,
had a goal they seemed to be working toward, or perhaps it was because he had almost been fooled and he respected anyone clever enough to do that and to beat him at cards as well. Perhaps it was that he admired the pluck behind their plan.
Tony and his sister sat silently, each trying desperately to concoct some plausible tale that would keep the major from probing further.
"How much are you trying to win?" Christopher probed gently.
"A hundred thousand pounds." Alex was the first to speak.
"However you must not blame Tony. He is the merest pawn in all this. I was forced to put him up to it because I know no one in London, save for General Scon, and he I know only through my father's reminiscences."
Having said this much, there was nothing to do but continue. Drawing a deep breath, Alex took the plunge, praying that she would sound convincing, that Tony would not say anything untoward, and that the major would understand.
"It was the pater you see," she began tentatively. Then, warming to her story, she hurried on. "In the last years of his life he became convinced he was not leaving enough to provide for us so he bought shares in a joint stock venture. Unfortunately, he was far more fortunate at risking his blunt 131
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at the card table than he was in business. The entire scheme collapsed and we were left with nothing. The shock of it killed the old fellow. There was naught I could do to raise the wind quickly so I mortgaged the estate, hoping that with some economy and improved agricultural practice I could rescue our finances."
Alex laughed mirthlessly. "However, it was not enough, so here I am. The pater was an old rip in his time—spent his days with the likes of Fox, among others. He lost so much money then that his family disowned him, but at last he learned a thing or two about games of chance and eventually won back his fortune and more and settled down. He stopped gambling entirely, but he taught me all he knew—said I was better than he ever was, even in his prime. Knowing all the dangers of it, I have avoided games of chance until now. But now, well, what else was I to do?"
"What else indeed?" the major murmured. "A hundred thousand pounds is no paltry sum. From what I can tell, you have a good start, but it will take you some time to amass all that, and every day you stay in London cuts into your profits."
"I know." A worried frown wrinkled Alex's forehead.
"It appears to me that you need some management in this affair—no offense to Tony, of course. But my youth was undoubtedly more misspent than his or yours, and I can arrange it so you play only with those who risk stakes worth your while. Your strategy of winning slowly and unobtrusively has stood you in good stead thus far, but now it is time to take proper advantage of the situation." 132
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Alex looked doubtful. "I don't know, I mean, I have only just arrived and I am not all sure I am equal to a contest with the likes of those you propose."
"Oh, come now, man," Wrotham scoffed. "You may lack town bronze, but you do not lack skill. I am accounted more than a fair card player and you bested me. All you need is someone to bring you to the attention of those who might otherwise not waste their time on a green lad just down from the country."
"That is most kind," Alex began cautiously. She stole a glance at Tony, who nodded imperceptibly. "Thank you, I think," she concluded lamely.
Christopher grinned. "Naturally you suspect my motives, but I assure you they are of the purest and they are completely self-interested. I am suffering from intolerable ennui here. Boredom, pure and simple, has driven me to it." An answering gleam appeared in Alex's eye. "When you put it that way, what can I do but accept your help? Having suffered that malady often enough myself I feel compelled to relieve someone else of such an enervating emotion."
"It is agreed then?"
"Agreed."
"Very well. We start this evening. I look forward to seeing you at White's." And with that the major touched his heels to his horse's flank and cantered off, leaving Alex and Tony to stare after him.
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It was Tony who recovered first. "No need to fret, Alex, Wrotham is a right one. I am convinced of it. He is too much a gentleman and a soldier not to be a man of his word, and he does seem to be on the best of terms with numerous people who could prove most useful."
"Yeeeees," Alex agreed, but her tone lacked conviction. "I always did sense that he looked upon us with some degree of suspicion from the very start. However, I suppose it is a good deal better to have that sort of person for, rather than against one."
"Too right. I fancy it would be rather uncomfortable to get on the wrong side of someone like the major. I have seen his sort in the Peninsula, the kind of fellow who would lead you into the mouth of hell, looking after you all the way, but if you were to behave badly, he would be as implacable with you, if not more so, than with the enemy. You don't want to upset a man like Wrotham. He would be the very devil to deal with if he believed you to be anything but honorable."
"Well, that's encouraging," his sister responded gloomily.
"With any luck he will only think of me as an ivory turner instead of a woman of ill repute." Why his opinion of her should matter in the least, Alex could not say, but it did matter.
"Surely you are not going to fall into a fit of the dismals now when we are fully committed to this charade. You should 134
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have done that back in Norfolk. It is too late now to entertain any missish notions such as that," her brother scolded.
"Missish! I am not in the least missish," Alex protested furiously.
"Delighted to hear it. I thought for a moment there that you were going to cry off just when the opportunity to play deep was presenting itself. Oh I know you have been winning steadily, but this one thousand or five thousand pounds a night will not do. My nerves won't stand for it. I say go for thirty or forty thousand and be done with it in a few nights."
"Thirty or forty thousand pounds!" His sister was aghast. "I could never..."
"Of course you can. Why, the pater won Halewood in three sittings and you are a better player than he ever was." Tony paused for a moment, reflecting. "Don't drink so much."
"Don't drink at all, you mean," Alex responded dryly. However, her brother's bracing tones were having the desired effect and she seriously began to consider the odds. Was it safer, after all, to play moderately over a long period and run the risk of being discovered, perhaps even before she had reached her goal, or was it better to put her faith in her own abilities as Tony and Lord Wrotham seemed to and get the whole thing over as quickly as possible. After all, Bonaparte was amassing his forces with unbelievable speed. Who knew how long it would be before Tony's regiment was called upon to fight. Without Tony, Alex shuddered, the whole business was dangerous indeed. Such an eventuality did not bear thinking of.
