Spinster's Gambit (20 page)

“Outside his bedchamber?” she heard Lord Monson squeal behind her, apparently only just then getting the news. Jac groaned and hurried to catch up with her brother. To her surprise, Aspen ran past her, his feet thundering down the hallway.

“Daniel!” Aspen shouted, catching up with the man and grabbing his shoulder to spin him around. “What the deuce just happened?” Daniel’s shoulders fell. Jac paused in her steps, unsure if she should interrupt them.

“That man was not your cousin,” Aspen stated, pulling his arm away. Jac stopped walking. The man must have looked up their lineage. “And he is not from Abingdon,” Aspen added, sounding only more confused.

“Aspen-” Daniel started.

“Daniel, who was that man?” Aspen demanded, his voice rough.

“He was no one. He will not return to London and I need you not to look into it,” Daniel requested, his eyes flickering to where Jac stood in the hallway. Jac backed up a step, unsure where she should go.

“You can not tell me he was not related to you. He was a veritable spitten image of your sister,” Aspen growled, digging too deep, too close.

“Aspen,” Daniel barked. Aspen straightened in surprise. The convenient thing about Daniel never getting angry was people tended to notice, then, when he did. “We have been friends for years. I am asking this of you in all sincerity, let it go,” he ordered.

Aspen went silent. Jac wished she could see his face, know what he was thinking.

“I missed two days of sleep, traveling to Paris to get you out of there,” Daniel growled. Jac felt her eyes widen; it was not like Daniel to pull up old favors. He could lose a good friend today, she thought.

He’s desperate,
she thought, wanting to hide her face in her hands.

“What scandal happened here?” Aspen asked shaking his head but Jac knew he wasn't looking for an answer. Daniel’s eyes softened. “It can’t be true, the recent rumors-” he started and Daniel swallowed heavily.

“They’re true,” he forced out, his voice dry. Aspen shook his head. Jac closed her eyes. Daniel would admit to the lie, tell the world that a man was in his bedchamber, simply to protect her reputation? She wasn’t to be married anyway. Jac shook her head fervently, trying to catch his gaze, trying to tell him not to do it.

“I cannot believe that. You would never betray Henry and Jack was clearly related to you,” he replied and Daniel closed his eyes. Jac frowned, confused.

Henry?

“Let it go. You owe me that,” Daniel ordered, backing away from the man.

I’m sorry,
Jac mouthed silently, but Daniel’s gaze barely flicked to her.

“Keep your secrets, then, where Jack is involved. I do not care overmuch about his background. Keep it to yourself if he was a servant or your lover or a French spy. So be it. I only demand to know if I was used or stolen from. I trusted that man and I would need to inform my steward,” the duke stated finally.

Jac winced.

I did not steal from you.

“None of those things,” Daniel stated. Aspen nodded stiffly. “His friendship with you was real,” he offered. Aspen shook his head.

“Albeit riddled with lies?” the duke asked, snorted quietly. Jac wished she could sink into the floor. Daniel sighed.

“Only one deception,” Daniel offered and Jac started walking forward again, letting her footsteps ring out. Aspen backed up away from the man. “Does that matter so much?” Daniel asked and the duke stilled.

“I do not know,” he answered, sounding distinctly disappointed. Daniel started down the hallway again, his head held high as he led them into the yellow salon. To Jac’s surprise, the duchess, Lady Musgrave, Mrs. Clarence, and Mrs. Faring were already inside, sitting around the fire with their respective embroidery. 

The duchess looked up as they entered, frowning in confusion at Aspen and Daniel’s presence.

“Was cricket not this morning?” she asked though she clearly knew it was. Lady Musgrave and Mrs. Clarence looked up from their work at her question. Aspen cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“They switched to bocce,” Daniel lied, his voice light. The duchess’s brow furrowed with displeasure at the apparent exclusion but, from the way she returned to her embroidery, Jac knew the woman understood it all.

“You should host them all the same,” Daniel muttered to Aspen, glancing around the unwelcoming room. It was too quiet, Jac determined, huffing out a breath and sitting down in an open circle of chairs, expecting Daniel to follow her. He did not. He stood in the middle of the salon, wiping his hands on his trousers and looking remarkably uncertain for the first time since he’d entered the breakfast room.

“Let’s go hunting,” Aspen ordered, spinning on his heel. Daniel nodded sharply and followed him out of the room, leaving Jac alone.

Not five minutes after they left, Mr. Henry Charington stuck his head into the room. But whatever he was searching for, he did not find it, for he disappeared almost just as quickly. 

CHAPTER NINE

The dogs ran out in front of the duke, their ears flapping happily and Daniel prayed they’d find a flock to flush soon, though he knew it’d not do a lick of good to quash the rumors growing behind him. He just wanted something to shoot. This was going to affect the slavery vote, he had no doubt of it. The peers of the realm owned the court system and he had no doubt they would use it against him.

“What are these nattering idiots on about?” Aspen asked finally. Daniel glanced around them, wishing fervently for a dog’s bark to break up the conversation. This was spreading all too quickly.

“My sister and I will have to leave early, I apologize,” he said instead. They had to get out of sight, out of the minds of the idiots at this ill-timed house party, and pray the rumors remained only as cruel gossip to be borne with fortitude in the next season.

“What will you do? I assume there is nothing to be done to lessen society’s censure now,” Aspen asked quietly. Daniel sighed. It was good to have one man who knew the whole of the situation, at least. 

“Presumably, I will go home and live out the rest of my days with a significantly deteriorated social circle. Alas, true suffering,” Daniel joked. His  voice came out too flat. Aspen glanced at him, his sympathy clear. 

“And Henry?” Aspen asked. Daniel felt something sharp in his chest at the name and shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. 

“I figured you would want to leave early to meet Jack before he leaves for his mad scheme in Boston,” Aspen answered and it sounded false even to Daniel’s ears. Daniel nodded quickly, grateful for the well-timed excuse. Aspen stopped suddenly and spun toward him, keeping his weapon safely pointed toward the ground. “Can you not at least tell me what rumors are spreading? This is not like you,” he demanded, his face keen. Daniel swallowed, not wanting to encourage the man nor deceive him but the less he knew of ‘Mr. Jack Holcombe’ the safer Jacoline would be. The duke nodded sharply, recognizing his defeat, and turned back to the hunt again. 

“We’ll leave tomorrow, in the morning,” Daniel offered. Jac would not be happy he thought, watching the Duke of Aspen make his way quietly through the brush after his dogs. He had noticed the way the duke had begun to seek her out. Aspen had always been bored at house parties. Perhaps he’d finally realized that Miss Jacoline Holcombe was almost as good company as his dear friend ‘Jack’. Daniel wanted to throttle the man for realizing so little, so late.

“I’ll be sorry to see you go,” Aspen replied, glancing meaningfully back at the estate, where the house full of peers were no doubt tittering. Daniel smiled grimly. 

“At least it is not difficult to lure them out into the woods alone while you’re armed with a loaded firearm. Host a hunting outing,” he replied under his breath and Aspen chuckled, his deep voice rumbling in the quiet.

“Accidents do happen,” he muttered darkly. Daniel laughed between his teeth and pressed forward.

~~//~~

The Duke of Aspen returned to the house with Daniel a little after three o'clock. They crossed in front of the red parlor’s open door on their way toward the main stairs and interrupted every trace of fine conversation. Jac did her best to hide her roaming eyes behind her book but she saw Aspen walk past, his clothing streaked with dirt and his hair ragged. The men disappeared up the stairs to bathe and dress and she returned her eyes to her book. The duchess left the room quietly, walking toward the stairs. 

The men slowly trickled in from outside soon after, clean and well-mannered again. Jac watched the Lord Monson address Miss Musgrave, no sign of his fervent politics or loud manner. Daniel came in finally, his smile forced, and Jac watched as Mr. Norcaster and Lord Musgrave subtly angled themselves away so they were talking toward the window and obviously not to be joined. The small clusters of ladies did the same, leaning toward each other and closing ranks until every conversation in the room was a private one. 

All except Miss Charington. She took a deep breath as if going into battle, lifted herself out of her small coterie and plunked herself down in an open cluster of chairs. Jac did her best not to gape at the girl, though there wasn’t much point; the rest of the room was certainly staring at her.

That was perhaps the least subtle thing I’ve ever seen,
Jac thought, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
And I live with Daniel,
she added, watching the girl smooth her skirts and smile at her nervously. Jac walked over and sat next to her, wondering what the girl was doing. Her father, Mr. Henry Charington, was nowhere to be seen, but Jac had no doubt the man would not approve of her very public declaration of loyalty. Daniel joined them, his plastered-on smile still intact.

“Well,” he said, slapping his knees in a jovial manner, “have you noted the recent rise in dairy prices?” 

Jac stifled a groan, knowing the whole room was listening to them. 

“You should not be here, Laura,” Daniel muttered under his breath and the girl actually glared at him. Jac felt her eyebrows rise. 

Laura?
Jac thought, glancing at Daniel curiously. Miss Charington did not seem surprised by the liberal use of her Christian name.

Who is this girl?
Jac wondered, watching her brother. Surely he did not have designs on the girl – Miss Charington could not be older than sixteen. Jac knew very little about Mr. Henry Charington and his daughter. The girl had lost her mother at a very young age and Mr. Henry Charington had raised her himself, but very little else was known about the family. She certainly didn’t know how Daniel was involved with them. 

“Your father will never forgive me,” Daniel added and Jac realized there were a few women actually leaning in their chairs, attempting to overhear them. 

“I hadn’t noticed the price increase, no. Do you think Parliament will pass the predicted import restrictions?” Jac replied, a bit too loudly, doing her best to sound as mind-numbingly boring as she could.

“It’s my decision, my reputation,” the girl hissed back, a bit too fervently. Miss Faring stared at her, her eyes pinched in disapproval. 

What am I missing?

“I think that’s likely, yes, though it may starve out the cities,” Daniel drawled before turning back to Miss Charington. “You are not yet sixteen years old. I demand you give me the cut direct,” he ordered.

“I do not want to,” Miss Charington hissed back. 

Why does she care? 

“Surely the laws will allow for an exception in the case of a famine,” Jac added, knowing she came off as horribly naive. She saw Lord Monson’s face jerk into something like a sneer at her words and ignored him. 

“If you do not, I will get up and walk away, and I shall not have my sister’s support,” Daniel threatened, gesturing to Jac as if responding to their farce of a political discussion. 

“Surely not! The Londoners would starve!” Jac gasped and Daniel’s fake smile twitched, threatening to show real amusement. 

“Fine. Though I shall speak with my father,” Miss Charington replied, making it sound like a threat. The humor in Daniel’s eyes died quickly and he turned toward her, looking sad. 

“Be my guest,” he replied. Miss Charington huffed, but stood up and strode back to her friends, looking affronted. Daniel watched her, his face solemn and turned back to Jac. Jac tilted her head at him curiously and he pulled a folded pamphlet from the pocket of his waistcoat, apparently finished with the conversation. Jac sighed and resolutely returned to her book, looking forward to the morning when they could leave.

~~//~~

The next morning Jac hid herself away in the green drawing room at the back of the house before anyone else had woken up. She sat fiddling with the duke’s carved chess set, her fingers sliding idly over the smooth curves. He’d sanded each groove so thoroughly the wood felt like silk beneath her hands. A true artist, not that he’d let anyone see it.

Sarah had already packed and Jac was ready to leave, but Daniel had not yet shown himself. He never had been particularly timely about waking up.

She could be quite heartbroken leaving here, she thought. She was unlikely to see Aspen again before the next season and she’d be just as much a stranger to the man by then. For a brief moment, it felt like he’d truly noticed her.

Jac sighed, pushing away her thoughts. She was not going to be married and not going to have children; she’d have to figure out what else she wanted from her life.

~~//~~

Aspen found Miss Holcombe in the green salon, staring down at the chess set he’d made eight years before. She looked so very wilted. He paused in the doorway, unsure if he should interrupt.

She began to set up a game for herself, her fingers flying and placing the pieces without faltering. Aspen wanted to leave her be, intimidated, but stilled his feet. Was he to court her? Would she take him?

She looked beautiful leaning over the chessboard, her brown hair pinned up above her slender neck. She glanced up, her striking eyes meeting his, and smiled fully, like she was welcoming an old friend. It made him feel like a full man for a moment, like she didn’t see the scars at all. Aspen blinked and her happy expression faded, her smile melting into something more tired.