Chapter 10

 

After he’d put himself to rights, Val left the room, feeling foolish and angry. There was a lot of anger around tonight. He’d heard her father’s voice and was not surprised to hear from the gossips that the duke had hauled his daughter away. He could do nothing about that, not yet, but he would.

He’d heard enough. The duke was a tyrant. Now he had met Charlotte’s sister, much became clear. Louisa was eighteen, under the age of consent and probably the trump card the duke held to keep Charlotte in check. He would do his best and encourage his father to help him get her away, though there was little he could do about it if the duke chose to keep his youngest daughter for another three years.

All he had was the signed marriage contract, and he would not let that go easily. At the moment it was his only weapon, his only way of striking back against the man who aimed to take Charlotte and make her into God knew what.

The news about Janey had crystallized what he felt and what he knew he must do. Even if she did not want him when he was done, he had to give Kellett the right-about. Val could not allow the man anywhere near her.

As he left the room he met the stares boldly, but for the first time he felt shame at what he did. He truly had not intended to make her situation worse. He strode through to the ballroom, intent on finding Kellett. He would make his position clear before he left, and the man would listen to him.

Darius came up to him. “He’s in the card room. He was waiting for her to emerge, but her father got there first.”

Val studied his brother in silence until he regained the sangfroid he was famous for.

Darius jerked a brief nod. “You’ll do.”

Val had never deceived his twin before, not as thoroughly nor as completely. He surprised himself with the ease he used putting on his society mask. Perhaps Charlotte had inspired him. He’d seen when she’d tried to assume her usual mien and privately rejoiced when she was unable to do so with him. He was breaking through to her.

His course was set. Kellett would never have her if he had anything to do with the matter.

“Did you tell her about Janey?” Darius said quietly.

His every sense revolted. “How could I? How do you tell a respectable woman that? She would likely refuse to believe me in any case.” Then she would believe he was a liar as well as fickle.

“She should be warned.”

Val shook his head and moved on, leaving the ballroom in favor of hunting his quarry.

Ivan was already in the card room. Groups of people were sitting around half a dozen small tables. Some were laughing and enjoying their friendly game. Others were playing in earnest. The seasoned players had a way about them. Man or woman, they affected carelessness, but their gazes were sharply intent. Either that or clouded with drink. Some only played when they were intoxicated, but they won all the same. Recklessness could lead to riches. Or of course, it could lead to ruin.

Val helped himself to a glass of rich ruby-red wine from one of the bottles standing on the sideboard. The company had made their way through quite a few already, even though the well-trained staff were busy clearing away the spent bottles.

He took his time observing the company, waiting until his mind was once more coolly analytical. He would not undertake his plan until his head had cleared. The familiar sounds of clinking coins, soft conversation, and cards being dealt entered his senses.

His quarry was sitting at a table with four others, a few coins on the table indicating their state of play. One gentleman glanced up, nodded at Ivan, and left the table. Nicephorus, Viscount Westwood, was taller than most gentlemen in the room. He even topped Darius and Val by an inch or two. He did not stop for a word, but passed through the other door in the direction of the ballroom after nodding to his cousins.

“Reinforcements?” Val queried.

“He happened to be here. I happened to mention that we would appreciate his help.” Darius nodded to the empty chair. “Off you go. Ruin him.”

Trust Darius to know exactly what was in his twin’s mind.

Val’s proficiency at the card table was well known, but these days he only played moderately. Before they had begun the insurance business, he had taken his playing to extremes. Known for playing deep and recklessly, he’d won and lost a great deal, but he appreciated the better odds and deeper stakes in his business venture and saved his acumen for that.

Not tonight. “Good evening, gentlemen.” He took his place at the table.

Kellett looked up sharply, an arrested expression on his face. He met Val’s eyes. If he rose and left, the Emperors would take that as an insult. He did not need Val to tell him that. If he stayed and played a hand or two he might survive the evening, but Val had plans to stop him leaving once he began to play too deep. He put his hand in his pocket and drew out some gold, dropping it in the cup carved into the wood by his place at the table.

A gentleman glanced at him and then at Kellett. Word about Val’s disagreement with Kellett had obviously flown around the ball, as he presumed it would. He had not planned it that way but had taken her into that room in a whirlwind of anger and concern. However, he wasn’t above using it, if he had to.

After murmuring excuses the two other gentlemen left the table. Val hardly saw them go. The tension in the room rose, and a few people filtered in. They were expecting a show. He intended to give it to them.

Darius and Ivan took the other two places at the table and bade everyone a genial good evening.

As Kellett pushed back his chair, Val dropped an item on the green baize. Diamond chips glinted as the article rolled over and settled.

The cut steel buttons on Kellett’s waistcoat glittered as he heaved a breath. His dark eyes met Val’s. If his were any reflection of his brother’s, they were as hard as the stones in the tie pin he had just dropped.

Val leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles, but he never relented in his perusal of his adversary.

Kellett reached for the pin, but with seeming leisure, Val put his hand over it. “It’s a pretty piece, is it not? You have to play for it if you’ve taken a fancy to it.”

“I believe my initials are on it.”

Val picked up the pin and made a play of examining it. “So they are.” Flicking a glance at Kellett, he raised a brow. “Is it a coincidence, or are you laying claim to it? I came by it in the most unusual place.”

Kellett shrugged. “It could have been lost anywhere.”

“In Covent Garden?” Val twirled the long pin between his fingers, drawing attention to the item.

Kellett stiffened. “I go to the theater regularly.”

“And to the other side of the piazza?” Val wasn’t talking geographically. The shock in his opponent’s eyes told him that he knew that. “Not every house there is as salubrious as the theater.”

Darius and Ivan remained very still.

“I see.” Kellett lowered his gaze. “I will play you for it, sir.”

Val had just told him several things, and he did not believe Kellett had missed one of them. He knew about Janey, and he had evidence of Kellett’s transgressions. Except that this pin was strictly evidence of nothing, unless Kellett laid claim to it. “So is it yours, sir?”

“I may have owned one like it once.”

Val had made a note of the hallmarking on the piece and made a rough sketch. He could identify it and the jeweler it had come from. But no court of law would accept it as evidence of murder, unless Kellett lay claim to it as his.

He did not hold out any expectation of that, or of bringing a murder charge since no body was forthcoming. Nevertheless, Kellett would pay, in one way or another. If Val could not bring true justice, he would get it another way.

“An aberration,” Kellett said, tracing a pattern on the table.

His finger was not entirely steady, Val noted with satisfaction.

“Every man tries something a little different from time to time, do you not agree?” His gaze went from Val to Darius.

Ah. The threat did not have to be any more blatant. He was implying that he would expose Darius. He was not giving up without a fight. Val shrugged, although his heart missed a beat. Darius could be hanged for what came to him naturally.

Val knew how to protect his own, and he would give his life for his brother. He picked up a wrapped pack of cards and broke the seal. “Whist?”

They agreed, and he dealt. Casually he picked up the pin and secured it on his coat, where Kellett could feast his eyes on it.

The first rubbers passed as the stakes slowly grew and the men threw guineas into the table as if they were pennies. Kellett had enough money to keep up with the trio. They would not beat him that way.

Gentle murmuring from the onlookers did not interrupt them. People at the other tables continued to play. The chink of coins and gentle conversation was punctuated by the terse declaration of bets and a few desultory exchanges of conversation.

“You have made quite a splash this season, sir.” Darius growled the words, obviously, at least to his twin, affected by Kellett’s threat. He was not talking about water.

“Indeed.” Kellett dropped a two of spades. Hearts were trumps, but nobody used one.

Darius won the play and placed a ten on the table.

“I intend to continue. I have come to town to seek a wife.”

Why? Did he want someone to torture, or someone to cover his torture of others? “There are many lovely young women making their debut this season.”

“One in particular.”

Val gathered the hand he had won and added to the small heap of coins in the center of the table. “Indeed. I fear she is spoken for.”

“Not for much longer.”

The man had a nerve. He knew Val was aware of his murdering ways, and yet he dared to threaten him?

Or was he merely trying to anger his opponent? Val refused to be veered off course. He would not support his brother at the expense of his betrothed. He would win them both.

“A contract is signed.”

“It will be broken.”

Val would rather kill him. Instead, he took the next rubber. By that time he was breathing steadily again, but anger simmered steadily inside him.

Kellett paused in the act of gathering the cards for his deal. The emerald on the ring on his hand glinted like the eye of a snake. “I will have the lady, sir. I have the assets she requires. Her father is amenable to my suggestions, and I expect to be victorious soon.”

Val raised a brow. “Interesting. How do you propose to achieve that?”

“By asking.”

“And what if I object?” Val bared his teeth.

Kellett shrugged. “You will not, sir. You will be too busy elsewhere.” His sly glance at Darius explained his meaning.

Fear streaked through Val. Had the bastard collected information about Darius? Would he lay that before a magistrate? Fielding of Bow Street had the reputation for incorruptibility. If Darius were caught in an illegal act in his jurisdiction, he would find himself in Newgate.

Anger followed. Val would do more than win Charlotte from this evil specimen of humanity. He would destroy him. Nobody threatened the people he loved and walked away free and clear. Cold determination drove him now.

Darius glanced his way but said nothing. He would have recognized his twin’s mood enough to know he could do nothing about it. Darius was always the more easygoing twin, despite Val’s usual casual manner. “I believe I can find time for both tasks.”

Kellett shook his head sorrowfully. “A man’s time is always restricted. I believe you will be busy enough with your family’s concerns. I will remove one of those from your shoulders when I marry your betrothed.”

The murmurs from the onlookers increased and Charlotte’s name was clearly mentioned.

Ignoring everyone else, Val uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his elbows on the table. He plucked the pin from his coat. Sweeping at the coins aside, he dropped the pin in their place. “We will play for her. If you win, I will agree to break the contract. If you lose, you will step back.”

If he won this play, he would free Charlotte from any obligation she had with him. She would have a free choice, as long as she did not choose the man before him. He would do that much for her. He knew, better than anyone, that he did not deserve her. But he would do his best to earn her regard and perhaps even her love.

Brave words. His act would be the first self-sacrificing thing he had ever done in his adult life.

“I believe Lady Charlotte has already made her choice. This would merely ratify it.”

The ruffian had the impudence to name her. Playing cards for a lady’s hand would make Charlotte notorious. She could be ruined. Kellett had done it on purpose. Once ruined, she would have little choice but to marry whoever asked for her and retire in disgrace. Val had no intention of that happening. Her endearing efforts this evening to make herself notorious were now eclipsed by this genuine scandal. Her carefully cultivated reputation for quiet respectability had shattered when Kellett used her name.

Val would have his head for that.

He picked up two packs of cards and broke the seals. “Piquet.” He glanced up to receive his opponent’s assent before he set his fingers to work. Val would call all his talents to use now. Never had he needed his skills more.

Piquet was a two-hander and required only the seven and up of each suit. Val took barely five minutes to sort through the two packs, shuffle, and deal the required hands and the talon, the reserve cards each player could call on.

As Val had dealt, he had the first use of the talon. He duly won the first set of six, known as a partie, but not by a great number of points, taking his time to learn his opponent’s style. Piquet was one of the few card games where skill could make a difference.

He had Kellett’s measure after the second partie. He was a steady player, with no attempt at reckless play. His gains were sound but not spectacular.

For the next few parties, the honors remained even. While they were playing for an ultimate prize of Charlotte’s hand, they still used gold to mark the play. At the end of each partie, they tallied the points and handed over the money. Then Val lost heavily, and what was more, he lost when he dealt, which by the odds of the game should not happen. Kellett’s pile overflowed the cup carved into the wood of the table, the smooth bowl completely hidden by the glint of gold. Notes of hand replaced coin as the stakes rose.

Ivan was keeping score, announcing the tallies after each hand in a toneless voice. Darius checked the numbers. Kellett must be keeping it in his own mind, because he nodded tersely when Ivan declared the points.

The room was tense now, the silence overwhelming. People gathered around the table, watching the play. Nobody was making the polite conversation usually heard in these situations. It could be said that the ball had turned into a gaming hell.

When Val lost again, the gasp from the spectators was almost palpable. He had lost ten thousand guineas, the stakes having risen with each partie, but he kept his expression blank and his smile fixed firmly in place. This time his loss was not so bad.

“I will send you an invitation to the wedding,” Kellett purred.

Val growled softly. “I will not send you one.” He shrugged. “Shall we make this the last game?”

Kellett smirked. “Are you losing your nerve?”

Val won the next partie, but only by a narrow margin. Not that he cared. He had calculated to a nicety what he needed to win. He assessed the risk and found it high, but not too much for him to overcome.

A little manipulation was in order. Leaning back, he held his cards negligently, as if they would drop at any moment, and crossed his feet once more. Nodding to a servant, he touched his glass and received another drink.

When Kellett made a play, Val immediately put his card on top, as if he weren’t thinking about his game. He had a reputation for growing bored easily. He might as well use it.

While Kellett pondered, Val took snuff and gave his box to his brother to note the exquisite enamel. “A new shop has opened in ’Change. Remind me to take you next week. I fear this week might become somewhat crowded with regard to engagements.”

Darius did not need any more hints. He had played this game before. “Do you intend to use the box at the theater tomorrow night?”

Val shrugged. “I don’t think so. I know the world admires Garrick, but occasionally I find his antics tedious. I may take my betrothed to Ranelagh.”

Kellett growled low in his throat. He bent over his cards, studying them as if his life depended on it.

Val had allowed society to see him lose his temper earlier this evening, so he had ground to make up. During the declaration part of the hand, he claimed an outrageous number of bids, which Kellett, having won the previous two parties, riposted with high claims of his own.

They played. Val won. His winnings covered his losses that evening, and five thousand more.

A ripple of applause ran through the crowd when people realized what he had done and how audaciously he had done it. By letting Kellett win, he had led him into over-declaring his hand later on, believing himself the superior player. Val could not have used that tactic at the start of the play. He’d risked a huge amount of money to assess his opponent’s mettle. But he had never risked Charlotte. Even if he had gained a reputation for cheating, he would not allow Kellett to have her.

But he did not. He had won the lady and five thousand guineas on top of that. After accepting the note of hand the man scribbled, he picked up the gold pin and restored it to his pocket. “I believe our business here is done,” he said mildly.

“Expect to hear more from me, sir.” Pale-faced, Kellett stood and strode from the room.

Val did not feel like a winner. The battle was not yet over.