Knave's Wager
“I am sorry to say the man reeks of gin.” The marquess retreated a few steps from the head, and turned back to Matthew. “He will not recover for many hours, I’m afraid. May I offer my own carriage as substitute? Ezra has taken a vow of abstinence from strong spirits, and the vehicle is commodious. What good fortune,” he added, with the barest flicker of a glance at Lilith. “My curricle is in pieces, or else I should have taken it and been unable to accommodate you.”
After making the obligatory objections to inconveniencing his lordship and receiving the obligatory chivalrous responses, the three climbed into his carriage and were quickly on their way.
Lord and Lady Enders promptly began to quarrel regarding Nathan’s future. The lady insisted he be turned off at once without a character. The lord, being more forbearing, was all for a sound scold, a signed oath of abstinence, and a second chance.
Lord Brandon pointing out the merit of both sides of the debate, it continued at full speed during the entire journey.
Lilith was too painfully conscious of a dove-grey wool-encased knee three inches from her own to formulate any opinions, let alone give voice to them. The knee was giving her a headache.
Thus it happened that Lord and Lady Enders were deposited at their front door before they knew it, and Lord Brandon’s carriage had travelled merrily down the street and was turning the corner before Rachel realised what had happened.
“Good heavens!” she cried, interrupting her spouse mid-harangue. “He is alone with Lilith—in a closed carriage!”
It was a curious circumstance that the loss of two passengers rendered the vehicle more confined than it had been, as though the masculine presence opposite Lilith possessed the power to expand to fill all available space.
She quickly thrust this fancy aside and tried to quell her rising anxiety. There was nothing in taking Rachel and Matthew home first, she told herself. The coachman had merely taken the shortest route, and certainly he seemed in a hurry, for they’d arrived at Enders House precipitately. Which was just as well. Lilith was eager to be home, to lay her throbbing head upon her pillow. She would travel in greater comfort and doubtless arrive more swiftly than she would have in the Endorses’ coach.
She had scarcely formulated the thought when the carriage began to abate its spanking pace. Lilith glanced out the window.
“I do not believe this is the correct turning,” she said. This is South Audley Street.”
“And you are alarmed. Perhaps I mean to abduct you and hold you for ransom.”
She suppressed a gasp, and instantly took refuge from anxiety in anger. ‘You would get precious little, as you well know, my lord,” she snapped. “While we are on the subject—”
“Of abduction?”
“Of money—”
“I did not know that was our topic. I hope not. It is exceedingly dull.”
“I am a dull person, as I have mentioned before. My man of business tells me your representative refuses to discuss terms of repayment.”
“Yes, and I wish you would stop plaguing them both, Mrs. Davenant. It hints of a disordered mind, not to mention a woeful want of consideration for poor Mr. Higginbottom.”
“He is well paid to engage in such work.”
“Another lamentable waste of your resources. Really, your affairs are in such a muddle it is a wonder the man hasn’t hanged himself-—or that you haven’t been deposited in the King’s Bench already. Did your previous agent not do sufficient damage? Or was his disease contagious?”
“I freely admit I ought to have kept a closer watch on him,” she said frigidly, “but that is hardly to the point. The fact is, I owe you—”
“Davenant owed me. You do not.”
“I will not accept your charity, my lord.”
He studied the top of her head. “Now I wonder why not,” he said meditatively. “It cannot be a greater blow to your pride than accepting Bexley. That decision carries a lifetime of consequences.”
Without heeding her gasp of outrage, he went on. “Not that I blame you. Women have so few economic alternatives. Still, I cannot but wonder at your choice.”
“How dare you,” she said, her voice choked. “You have no right to refer to matters—to personal matters—or to speak slightingly of a worthy gentleman.”
“I did not say Bexley was unworthy. I was referring to his hairline, which is receding at an alarming rate. I can only hope your offspring will not suffer premature baldness,” he said charitably.
“I find your conversation in the worst possible taste, my lord.”
“I beg your pardon. Perhaps baldness does not distress you. I have noted your preference for a coiffure designed, apparently, to pull your hair out slowly by the roots,” he said, his eyes once more upon the tight coil of dark auburn braid. “I cannot look at your head without wincing in sympathy—which is a great pity, because I have very recently acquired a partiality for redheads.”
Lilith decided not to dignify this with a reply. She turned her gaze to the window, and immediately discovered, with a return of alarm, that they were circling the darkest square of London.
“This is Berkeley Square,” she said, forcing her voice to be steady. “Is your coachman drunk as well?”
“No, he has infallible instincts, which have apparently informed him of my wish to kiss you. Naturally, the locale must be poorly lit. I realise you are shy, Mrs. Davenant.”
She had her hand on the door handle before he’d finished.
“Ah, you wish to alight,” he said calmly.
The coachman, to Lilith’s confusion, was ordered to halt. To her further confusion, the marquess assisted her in disembarking, and in the next minute, his carriage was clattering away, leaving her alone, on foot, with its owner.
He offered a bland smile, took possession of her arm, and proceeded to stroll in the most leisurely way down the street with her.
Lilith’s wish to escape the carriage had been reflexive, and for perhaps two whole minutes she had actually believed she would walk home. Now, in the shadowy square, reason returned. A lady did not walk anywhere without escort,
and most certainly not at night.
“You see what comes of permitting me to provoke you,” he said, voicing her thoughts. “Though how you could have helped it, I cannot imagine, considering the pains I took.”
“You upset me deliberately,” she said, half disbelieving, half accusing.
“Yes. I hoped you would fly at me and do me some violence. But you are far too well bred for that. Your composure is extraordinary. What a dragon of a governess you must have had.”
“She wasn’t—” She paused and looked at him, but there was too little light. She could read nothing in the arrogant profile. “Why did you wish to provoke me?”
“Because I find it disconcerting to converse with a stone monument. You do it very well, I admit. One is tempted to hold a glass to your lips to ascertain whether respiration has ceased.”
She was both angry and frightened, and his remarks could not be construed as complimentary. All the same, the long-suffering note in his voice made her want to laugh.
“Stones do not scold,” she said, moving on again.
“That is the trouble. Virtually the only words I can prize from you are scolding ones, yet I know you can converse quite amiably. Your suggestions to Lord Velgrace regarding the draining of his fields, for instance.” He glanced at her baffled countenance. “My hearing is very acute—despite my illness.”
“If you wanted my views on agriculture, you had only to ask.”
“Had I? I think not. The evening cools,” he went on, gazing upwards, “and the heavens make a mighty struggle to clear. I discern one courageous star striving feverishly against the London smoke.”
Lilith looked up at the faint twinkle in the heavens.
“I recommend you make your wish now, Mrs. Davenant, before the haze crushes it altogether. You will doubtless use the occasion to wish me to the Devil.”
“I hope,” she said quietly, “I have wishes more worthy of a Christian than that.”
“Then what will it be? A cabinet post for Bexley? No, that is not altogether worthy, either. Too mercenary and selfish. Something for your niece, perhaps—but I will not press for details, or the wish is spoiled.”