Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

“That’s another thing. The dowager is so sweet to send her son in the hopes that we might make a match of it, but, oh Jimmy … it is impossible.”

“I’ll say,” agreed her brother. “The other one—his big, handsome cousin—has more of a chance with you than the marquis …”

“Why do you say that?” His sister rounded on him sharply.

“Oh-ho!” Her brother laughed.

“Stop it!”

“Well, he is the broth of a man—damn fine good-looking man, in fact … but I’d wager he is a bit of a rogue … probably not the marrying kind. Better steer clear of him, Jewels.”

“I intend to,” Jewels said, her chin up.

They trotted down the busy road and into the village square, where the battlements of Yarmouth Castle rose above their heads. Tulips adorned the flowerbeds in fine array, reminding them that spring had arrived, in spite of the coolness of the sunny day.

People in the square—many of whom were simple, country folk—were busy with their errands and shopping, but more than a few saw the pair and met them with a wave and a warm smile. The late-day streets were crowded still, but the entire picture of the charming seaside town presented a lovely vision to Jewel’s sweeping glance. She loved the Isle. Yes, she thought, she did want to see more of the world, but she did so love her home base.

They dismounted on the cobbled street and led their horses to the stables, where a link boy came forward. They gave their horses into his keeping and made their way towards a particular house not too far down the avenue.

At the top of the short stone steps, Sir James took up the brass door knocker and gave it a vigorous rap, which produced a manservant of considerable height and girth whose depressing countenance seemed severe in the extreme. Brother and sister exchanged meaningful glances but maintained an amused silence.

“Good day to you, Wailey,” said the beaming Jimmy, who knew the servant well.

“If you say so, Sir James … Miss Jewelene,” Wailey said, moving out of their way and allowing them to enter.

“Is Mrs. Clay about?” asked Jewelene.

“No, she is out for the day—gone to the mainland.”

“And Lyla?” asked Jimmy.

“Gone, too.”

“Oh, bother!” Jewelene said. “I suppose Mr. Clay took them and is gone as well?”

“No, miss. Mr. Clay is across the street at the Silver Heart.”

“Oh, very well. I suppose I shall have to go there to speak with him.” Jewels sighed.

“No, oh no,” her brother was moved to utter. “Can’t do that. It is all very well for you to go about in breeches, dear girl. Got the poor folk of Wight so befuddled that they think it is charming, but even you can’t go into a gaming hell without losing your all!”

“Yes … but it is Ben’s place after all …”

“Don’t matter—you can’t go in there, and that is that.”

Jewels chewed her bottom lip for a moment and then brightened. “Very well, I’ll send a message to Ben and ask him to attend me here. How is that? You go visit with Arthur in the meantime …”

Jimmy eyed Wailey. “Will you do that, Wailey ol’ boy … bring Ben here to m’sister so she doesn’t go there?”

“Aye, that I will, young sir,” Wailey said grimly.

“Right then … but not sure I should leave you alone with Ben.”

Jewelene laughed. “You won’t be … Wailey will be here.”

Jimmy chuckled. “Aye, there is a truth in that. Right then … come by for you in thirty minutes.”

Jewels stepped into the sitting room, only just recently refurbished from the earnings acquired from Ben’s investment in his newly profitable Silver Heart. His family had fallen into difficult times when his father had died ten years earlier. Then Ben had been wounded fighting the Spanish in 1809—a wound that had cost him his left arm.