The Wicked Wager Page 6

  The meal was finished in a similar vein, leaving the girls angry yet amused. The men stayed on to pass the port, and the ladies retired to the saloon.

  Catherine went to pour the tea, and Emma followed her. She could not wait until everyone retired for bed to say what she wanted.

  “I have never noticed Mrs Barker so desperate. Is it just me or was she outrageously flirting with the duke?”

  “That is what I noticed this afternoon. I am sure she flirted with him on previous occasions, but this time she is taking it too far. It is embarrassing, and I am surprised Mr Barker does not say anything or, for that matter, the duke,” said Catherine worriedly.

  “You must be funning, Cat.” She searched her cousin’s face, and when no dimple winked she continued, “The duke would never take her seriously. She made a fool of herself, and you should simply see her as an amusing diversion.”

  “The duke is a man, Em, and however much we may dance around the topic, my stepmother is not all there.”

  “The duke is still handsome and extremely powerful. The last person he would turn to would be Mrs Barker. He may want some other diversion, a mistress perhaps if he does not have one already. But he will never fall for a woman like her.”

  “I hope you are right. I suppose I never bothered to think of the effect my stepmother’s madness had on my father. I do hope he has someone to love him.”

  “He has you, and as for female companionship, I don’t think it’s our place to be concerned. He can take care of himself.”

  “I was just taken by surprise, I think. I have never witnessed any woman throwing herself at my father before. He normally shields me from such things.”

  “Maybe he feels that you are old enough to handle it now, or that you have grown up enough to notice …” she abruptly stopped, her eyes darting towards the door. She urgently squeezed Catherine’s arm and muttered, “the men are entering the room. You should go to your father, and stick by him for the rest of the evening. Hurry, Cat, he needs to be rescued.”

  Catherine quickly turned and beat the approaching Mrs Barker by a second. She then spent the night keeping the thankful duke occupied, while Mrs Barker sulked in annoyance.

  ***

  Emma sent her maid off to bed and sat down to think. She was once again worried about the duke’s suspicions regarding the gardener. The only time she could sneak into his library and go through the papers was when the entire house was abed. She had undressed so that her maid would not be suspicious.

  Now she strode to her closet and pulled out her robe. She was bending over to put on her slippers when a hand was clasped around her mouth and another on her shoulders.

  She was pulled upright, and she instinctively bent her knee and let her foot fly back and ram itself between the legs of the intruder. It was a beautiful move taught to her by her brothers.

  A low moan of pain came from behind her as the hands fell away to release her. She smiled satisfactorily as she turned to look upon the unfortunate creature who had dared to enter her bedchamber.

  Chapter 8

  “Richard!”

  “Hello darling, I thought it was time I got my kiss. But I think you have permanently damaged the parts that would have one day given you children,” he groaned.

  “I am so sorry! Are you alright? How did you get in? You can’t be here, what if someone finds out!”

  “I got in through the door. However romantic I may want to be, I didn’t want to risk climbing the ivy and breaking my neck. Your room is very high up … I did not realise that walking in through the door would be just as dangerous.” He paused to breathe deeply. Clenching his teeth in pain he continued, “I will be fine … at least I hope I will be in a few days. As for being found out, the entire household is asleep. After the risk I have already taken, this seemed relatively tame.”

  “You don’t have your beard on, and your teeth are white again.”

  “I did not want to give you an excuse to evade my kiss this time.”

  Emma blushed. It was different kissing the earl in the light of the day or even in dark gardens, but his being in her room was disturbing. It somehow felt more intimate, and the fact that no one would intrude on them for a number of hours had her feeling shy and tense.

  “How … how did you know this was my room?”

  The earl smiled, guessing the reason for Emma’s discomfort. His kiss would have to wait, and recalling the state he was in, he did not mind delaying it too much.

  “It was easy enough. All I had to do was follow your maid Bessie. The long hallways and various nooks and corners hid me well enough. She hardly looked left or right, having no reason to believe that someone might be following her.”

  “I was just getting ready to search the duke’s study.”

  “I will be a gentleman and accompany you. I cannot have my beautiful fiancée roaming around alone in this ghostly mansion. It will also give me a chance to take a look at the duke’s place of work. You can tell a lot about a man from his personal space.”

  She nodded and turned away. She busied herself looking for a candle to take along.

  The ensuing silence reminded her again of the earl’s presence in her room. She glanced at the bed and reddened.

  She wanted to speak to break the mounting tension but was afraid her voice would tremble and betray her.

  The earl smiled watching her flustered demeanour. He waited until she had lit the candle and moved towards the exit before grabbing her arm and halting her.

  Emma’s fingers tightened around the candle. She peeked at his face and his expression set her heart racing.

  He stared at her exquisite face glowing in the fire light. He drank in her features, his fingers itching to take the pins out of her hair.

  “If I don’t kiss you now … it would be tragic,” he said huskily.

  “Angels would weep,” she replied, nodding fervently.

  He smiled briefly before stooping down and giving her a hard, quick kiss. He let her go immediately and said,

  “For luck. After all, we venture into the lion’s den tonight.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” replied Emma, her heart still thundering in her chest.

  She was secretly relieved to have the earl with her. She had not been looking forward to sneaking into the duke’s study, but with him by her side it felt more like an adventure than an odious task. She was suddenly excited and peeked out of her room with more enthusiasm.

  Seeing that the coast was clear she gestured to the earl to follow.

  They tiptoed their way towards the stairs, cupping the candle to dim the glow. Emma knew which bits of wood creaked and silently indicated the same to him.

  They reached the bottom step and turned into a hallway. She led the way to the duke’s study, and after making sure that no light showed below the crack in the door, they cautiously entered the room.

  She went straight towards a tray of letters left at the edge of a large mahogany desk. Those were the ones that the duke would have written today. Pickering would post them in the morning.

  She carefully set the candle on the table, and taking out a paper knife she got to work. She heated the steel blade and slipped it below the seal of the first letter.

  The pile of letters was not large, and it would take them at most an hour to finish the task. They scanned and resealed the letters as quickly as they could.

  They finally found one addressed to a man named Nutters, who it seemed was a private investigator in London. It mentioned the gardener, although briefly. Most of the letter was comprised of requesting information about an investigation the duke had already engaged the man for. The duke never said clearly what the matter was. It was all very vague, but his words in the end were ominous.

  “What does uncle mean by this bit?” Emma asked, pointing to a section in the letter.

  The earl silently read the contents:

  ‘I need to know if I have to take any drastic action regarding the issue. The situation is steadily becom
ing worse, and it is now hard to sift the truth from lies. I have to protect my family and would appreciate it if you could speed up your investigations. Hire as many men as you need. You shall be compensated. I am getting desperate, and all my hopes now rest on your findings.’

  “I have no clue. It sounds as if the duke is in some sort of trouble. He doesn’t specify anything, so it seems he is already suspicious of the letter falling into the wrong hands. I wonder who he suspects would dare to go through his mail. He mentions the gardener only briefly. He hasn’t even finished that sentence before he starts talking about this other problem. I think this Nutters chap will write to the duke asking him to explain more fully about the gardener, and that unfortunately means another night of searching through his letters,” replied the earl.

  “Poor uncle, I wonder what is worrying him.”

  “A duke is bound to have million problems. I don’t think we should worry ourselves over anything other than our own concerns. After all, he seems to have hired a professional to sort it out for him. We cannot do anything more.”

  “I suppose,” said Emma doubtfully.

  “Come, it is time for bed.”

  Seeing her horrified face he laughed.

  “I meant, you go to your bed, and I shall go to mine. Don’t worry, your virtue is safe … at least for the moment,” he added wickedly.

  Emma turned away in a huff and made her way back to her room. The earl left for the servants’ staircase hidden in the hallway. He stole a quick kiss before letting her escape.

  Emma blew out the candle and slipped into bed. She felt a pang of pity for the earl, who would be sleeping on a hard, flea infested mattress. She put her feet on the hot bricks and reviewed the night in her mind.

  The letter the duke had written worried her. He had sounded unlike himself, pleading for information from the unknown Nutters. Emma would have never guessed anything was bothering the duke. He seemed so calm and in control. No matter how many times she repeated the words in her head, she could not guess what the duke could have possibly meant. She sighed and closed her eyes.

  Her last thought was not of the duke, or even Mrs Barker and her antics, but the earl’s face leaning in close to kiss her.

  ***

  Emma woke the next morning with a pounding headache and feeling tired from lack of sleep.

  She went to the breakfast room dreading hearing the shrill tones of Mrs Barker and her daughter Prudence. She clutched her sore head and prayed they were still in bed but was disappointed …

  Mrs Barker sat sipping tea and having a whispered conversation with Lady Babbage. Prudence and Catherine sat silently eating eggs on toast.

  Prudence was not a morning person, and she would thankfully not utter a sound until she had consumed her chocolate and three cups of tea.

  Emma fetched herself a slice of dry toast and a cup of coffee before joining them.

  The duchess was still in bed as she never came down for breakfast. She had explained to Emma that spirits were most active at night, and she could not afford to sleep when there was so much to be learned from them. The duke would have already breakfasted and would be in his study.

  Catherine surreptitiously glanced at Lady Babbage and then nodded a greeting to Emma. Emma understood the brief look; she did not need words to interpret what Catherine was trying to convey.

  It was odd to see two such different personalities involved so deeply in conversation. They refrained from saying anything aloud, since Prudence sat a few feet away. They finished their breakfast in silence, which was finally broken by Prudence.

  “What shall we do today? I do not feel like riding down to the village. It looks as if it is going to rain.”

  “A stroll in the garden?” suggested Catherine.

  “Alright,” Prudence replied grudgingly.

  Her tone suggesting that she would rather be paying calls in London than be cooped up in the country.

  Emma forced herself to calm down. There was no point in getting angry with Prudence. Even if she said anything, it would likely sail over her head.

  They set out for their walk, and Lady Babbage trailed behind with her sewing basket. Emma soon left the party behind and made her way to the old gardener mucking about in the vegetable patch.

  “Nice day.”

  The earl grinned and said,

  “It looks like it is going to rain.”

  “Yes, but once it does rain, the roses will moisten and the scent of them will be divine,” replied Emma.

  “A girl after my own heart, who appreciates the scent of wet earth and drenched flowers.”

  “What are you planting?”

  “This right here, miss, is the herb patch. I am going to plant some mint and rosemary.”

  “You will be a handy husband. We can let the head gardener go and let you take care of the grounds. See, I am already thinking like a wife and economizing.”

  “I don’t think I could look at another leaf without shuddering in future. Studying a text is rather different from the actual work involved. I am going to double my gardener’s salary once I am home. By god, the man deserves it.” He paused to put away his spade, “Do you think you can walk to the apple orchard and meet me where we met last time?”

  “I am not sure,” said Emma hesitatingly, glancing back. Prudence and Catherine were fast approaching.

  “Try,” he coaxed.

  “Oh, alright, you go on ahead, I will meet you in a moment.”

  Emma waited for the earl to hobble away before turning to greet her cousin and Prudence.

  “We are going back inside. I think I felt a drop,” said Prudence, staring up at the grey sky.

  “I have a mind to pick some apples, and then I will join you. Cat, are you going to stay?”

  “I think you should come back with us, Emma, you know father doesn’t like us walking alone.”

  “Oh, what can happen to me in broad daylight? These are his grounds, after all. I shall be perfectly safe.”

  Catherine stood uncertainly until a great big drop on her nose decided her.

  “Hurry, I don’t want you to get wet and catch your death.”

  “I won’t be a minute, you go on. You will see me before you reach the house.”

  Catherine nodded, and taking Prudence’s arm she started walking back to the house. Emma noticed Lady Babbage doing the same, and with a sigh of relief quickly made her way towards the Orchard.

  The earl stood waiting on the outskirts. The rain started falling in earnest, and she was about to start running towards the apple trees, when through the sheet of rain, she noticed the duke standing and watching her approach the gardener.

  The earl had noticed the duke as well. She stood torn for a moment, and then changed her direction, moving towards the rose garden instead. She pretended not to see the duke. She took that route to wind her way back towards the mansion.

  The earl, meanwhile, had disappeared into the orchard.

  “That man,” moaned the earl aloud, “will be the death of me.”

  Chapter 9

  Catherine watched Emma run past her soaked to the bone. She stopped a passing maid and asked her to bring a pot of tea to Emma’s room. Her cousin had always loved the outdoors, and she often had to drag her back inside.

  She shook her head exasperated. They were no longer children, and her cousin should start taking better care of herself. Emma was a nightmare to deal with when she had the slightest sniffle.

  She made her way to her father’s study. Her father always kept some brandy at hand for medicinal purposes. A shot of brandy in Emma’s tea would do her a world of good.

  The duke’s study was open, and Catherine paused outside. She could hear voices inside, and she wondered if she should disturb the duke. He often had visitors who came to him with confidential problems. Being the duke, he was meant to help and solve those issues.

  She turned to leave when Mrs Barker’s voice arrested her. Mrs Barker was speaking to the duke in urgent tones. Catherine
stood, torn between going in and rescuing her father or listening to what was being said.

  A year ago she would have walked away, but recently parts of her personality she never knew existed seemed to be coming out.

  Instead of leaving or even interrupting the conversation, she felt a thrill go through her as she deliberately inched forward to hear them speak. She hoped Mrs Barker was being put in her place, and she wanted to catch every word if that were the case.

  She heard Mrs Barker speak,

  “You know what I am offering. You are an intelligent man, you can’t expect me to spell it out.”

  A brief silence indicated that the duke had refused to answer. Mrs Barker spoke again, and this time her tone was pleading,

  “We both are unhappy … and I cannot forget …”

  Catherine strained her ears in frustration; Mrs Barker had started whispering, and she could no longer hear her words.

  The duke finally spoke loudly and clearly, “I have work to do, and I do not want to discuss this any further. Please do not embarrass either of us, Mrs Barker. Catherine, you may come in.”

  Catherine jumped guiltily. She entered the study and found a red faced Mrs Barker, while the duke looked angry. She realised he had seen her reflection in the Venetian mirror hanging over the fire place.

  In her eagerness to be naughty for once she had forgotten about that. She silently cursed and glanced apologetically at her father. He smiled slightly in response and asked,

  “You wanted something?”

  “Some brandy for Emma. She got caught in the rain, and I don’t want her to fall ill.”

  The duke silently opened the drawer in his desk and handed her a flask. His eyes twinkled, and Catherine blushed at being caught doing something as childish as eavesdropping. She quickly snatched the bottle and left.

  ***

  The mood in the house had changed considerably with the onset of rain. The duchess looked even more distracted than usual. She kept muttering to herself and forgot to pour the tea, in spite of being prompted by Catherine five times.