Knave's Wager

“My dear Lilith,’’ she said when the girls were safely out of the way, “I know exactly what is in your mind, and of course I cannot blame you for thinking ill of him.”

Lilith gave the tiniest start—so minute as to appear a flicker of shadow upon marble.

“You are too well-bred to mention it,” her guest went on, “but we both know Robin has made an utter fool of himself over that French demi-rep.”

“I am sure, Glenda, I should never disparage your relations.”

“And I am sure you may do so all you like. You cannot abuse him—or his immediate family—any more heartily than I have myself. What a great lot of fools they are! When a spoiled child demands bon-bons, which will make him sick, does it serve to tell him, ‘No’, he must not? Indeed, it does not serve,” said her ladyship, shaking her head vigorously. “As a child, Robin was wont to hold his breath until he turned blue in the face. At present, I believe he is doing precisely that.”

“I am not certain I take your meaning,” said Lilith, though a vision of the rakish Lord Robert Downs in a childish tantrum drew a hint of a smile.

“Everyone has been ranting at him to leave her. If they had simply ignored the entire matter, I’m sure he would have tired of her very soon, but every new ‘No’ only makes him dig in his heels the more.”

“That scarcely recommends his maturity, Glenda.”

“But don’t you see? He is not so worldly and jaded as he likes to think. I only wish you could have heard him urging Astley’s as a treat for the girls. Rather like an older brother who wants the treat for himself as well. I should like him to have it. I believe the experience will be good for him. At any rate, it is innocent entertainment for a change.”

“I hope it may be,” said Lilith slowly. “The question is whether it would be good for Cecily. She is inexperienced, young, and impressionable, and he is exceedingly handsome—and, as you said, worldly.”

“Yes, of course, but we are going to the circus, my dear, not the Cyprians’ Ball,” was the brisk reply. “Rockridge and I will be there, and I dare say we may keep a handful of lively young people in order.”

This Lilith could not deny. Glenda’s common sense was always to be relied upon. Furthermore, for all her open warmth, Lady Rockridge was a thoroughly reliable dragon.

The following Tuesday was quickly agreed upon, Lilith being engaged to dine that evening with Lord Liverpool. The invitees were mainly of political persuasion, and Cecily had already expressed a disinclination to accompany her aunt.

“She told me she would feel like the village idiot in such company,” Lilith said with a smile.

“Meaning, I take it, she expected to be bored to pieces. Well, we shall spare her that, shall we?”

Chapter Five

The Tuesday evening found the eminently sophisticated man of the world, Lord Robert Downs, at Astley’s. He had dexterously managed matters so that he sat next Miss Glenwood—only, he told himself, for the amusement of watching her childlike excitement. This infantile enthusiasm manifesting itself in sparkling blue eyes, half-parted moist, pink lips, and a propensity to clutch at his sleeve during moments of high suspense, he might have been accounted tolerably amused.

From time to time the lips came disconcertingly close to his ear, as Miss Glenwood was inclined to whisper eager comments on the proceedings.

“How do they do it?” she asked during a display of equestrian feats. “It takes forever to learn how to keep your seat without a saddle—but to stand—and turn—and leap in the air—I could never do that. The last time I tried to stand—”

Lord Robert’s head whipped towards her. “You what?”

Captivated once more by the performance, she did not appear to hear him.

“They make it seem so easy,” she said after a moment. “Yet it wants tremendous concentration.”

“Miss Glenwood, did you just say you have tried to stand upon a horse?” Lord Robert asked, appalled.

“Once only. I can ride without a saddle, but no more. I shall never be an acrobat,” was the modest reply.

“You do not ride saddleless,” he insisted.

“But of course I do. Why, I have done it several times already in Hyde Park.” She must have remarked his look of horror finally, because she hastened to explain that she had done so very early in the morning, and naturally she had her own groom from home with her, and of course she wore her brother’s old clothes. One could scarcely ride bareback in a woman’s riding habit, she pointed out patiently.

“Miss Glenwood—”

He got no further. Lady Rockridge’s dragon eye having noted the two golden heads bent close together, she promptly ordered her husband to change places with Robert.

While the innocent Cecily was throwing Lord Robert into a dither, her aunt was experiencing her own brand of disquiet.

Sir Thomas had as usual forgotten her existence in his absorption with a political issue, but this was habitual with him. At any rate, Lilith had never expected or wished him to live in her pocket, even after their betrothal.

Tonight’s issue was again the Grand Duchess Catherine’s blatant hostility towards Prinny, her efforts to humiliate him at every turn, and her skill in making everyone detest her. The Czar’s sister seemed to devote all her waking hours to making mischief. Since she had considerable influence over her brother, and wrote him constantly, it was feared Alexander’s proposed visit to England would not be an auspicious one.

Thomas, who had any number of ideas regarding what might be done to appease the harridan, took every opportunity to express these views. He would not be averse to a diplomatic post, and this was a good way to start. Consequently, he devoted all his energy this night to business— and therefore, the most powerful men in the group.

The disquiet of the nation must, after all, take precedence over the disquiet of one woman, Lilith well knew. Her problem was not with Thomas.

The source of her uneasiness sat the length of the dinner table away. Amid the buzz of dinner conversation, one low, drawling murmur—inevitably followed by peals of feminine laughter—pierced her concentration as loudly as if there had been no other sound.

In the same way, she saw Lord Brandon without looking directly at him, because he was always there, in the periphery of her vision when she turned to respond to her dining companion. The black coat molded to broad shoulders... the immaculately arranged neckcloth in whose snowy depths an emerald winked from time to time, a counterpoint to the flickering green glance which lit here and there with equal lack of interest. Once, Lilith had felt that glance settle hard upon her, but she would not raise her eyes to acknowledge it, and the sensation soon vanished.

Her discomfort did not. He had done no more than greet her and Thomas politely at the start of the evening. At least, the words had been unexceptionable. But as they were moving past him, Lord Brandon had shifted his balance slightly, and his coat sleeve had brushed her gloved forearm. She had felt a tiny shock, and ever since, she had been unable to shake off her awareness of him, even when he stood a crowded room’s length away.

Lilith ate dinner with her customary marble-like composure and could not have said later what she had put into her mouth. When she withdrew with the other ladies, she conversed in her usual coolly courteous manner and could not remember after a single word. When the gentlemen rejoined them, she talked and drank her tea and might have been talking Hindu and drinking ditch-water for all she knew of it.

Once more the marquess spoke only a few unexceptionable words to her. Then he drifted away to a group of gentlemen in a corner, where he remained the rest of the evening. Yet he might have been breathing down her neck the whole time, so relentlessly did his presence grip her.

Thomas was among those with whom the marquess conversed. The night wore on, and Thomas showed no signs of wearing out. Instead, the conversation seemed to grow into an intense debate with Sidmouth and their host. So engrossed were the three men that they never noted the other guests taking their

leave.

Rachel approached her future sister-in-law.

“Enders says they are like to keep on all night and into the morning,’’ she said, nodding towards her brother. “Can I persuade you to leave with us? Thomas will find his own way home. Heaven knows he has done this a hundred times if he has done it once, and we shall be asleep on our feet waiting for him.”

Lilith was only too willing to leave, even if it meant abandoning her betrothed.

“It is about time,” said Rachel when the carriage finally arrived. “Nathan has been prodigious slow in coming.’’

“They are all behindhand, it seems,” said Lord Brandon from somewhere behind Lilith’s shoulder. “My own carriage was ordered at the same time, and even Ezra—usually a miracle of celerity—has dawdled. Perhaps they too have been debating affairs of state. Mrs. Davenant, you are losing your shawl. May I assist you?”

“No, th—”

He scooped up the end dragging on the carpet and draped it artistically upon her shoulder without touching her.

Lilith murmured polite thanks and quickly moved away, but she found him at her shoulder again as she stepped out onto the walkway.

“Perhaps you didn’t require your wrap, after all,” he said. “The night is unseasonably warm. You must beware growing overwarm yourself. That is an excellent way to take a chill. Shall I—Well, that is odd.”

He stepped away from her towards Lord and Lady Enders, and stopped the latter as she was about to enter the carriage.

Lilith saw him whisper something to Matthew and gesture towards the coachman. At that moment, to her very great surprise, the coachman toppled sideways onto the seat.

“What the devil is wrong with the fellow?” Matthew cried.

Lord Brandon inspected the head dangling over the coach seat. “Drunk, it looks like,” he said coolly.

“Drunk?” the others chorused.