The Untamed MacKenzie

Mrs. Leigh-Waters flushed. “You are certainly forthright, Mr. Mackenzie.”

“But truthful. Hargate rose high in his profession very fast. My uncle Hart figured he called in favor after favor and bought his way to the top.”

Hart would know. He’d used similar methods himself on occasion, and he likely knew whose nest Hargate had feathered to become bishop.

“Well, your uncle Hart might not be wrong,” Mrs. Leigh-Waters said. “Hargate did ask my husband for a word in the right ear in exchange for him helping Mr. Leigh-Waters in certain matters. It’s often done, but with Hargate . . .”

“It was obvious and obsequious,” Daniel finished. “Is that why you invited him to the party? To repay what he’d done for your husband?”

“No, no.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ flush went deeper. “If you must know, I owed the bishop a bit of money, and he was needling me for it. I invited him at his request, intending to settle the debt here.”

“And did you settle it?” Daniel asked. He softened the abrupt question with a smile, took a sip of tea, and then gestured with his cup. “I mean, did you have the chance before . . . you know.”

“I did, as a matter of fact. I gave him his hundred guineas. Well, most of it.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters leaned toward them, lowering her voice. “Please don’t tell my husband.”

Louisa shook her head. “Never fear about that. Was it a gambling debt?”

“Pardon?” Mrs. Leigh-Waters looked surprised, then her face grew as red as the velvet curtains behind her. “Oh. Yes. Indeed. I had some very bad luck at cards and had to give Hargate a vowel for what I’d lost. I planned to pay him as soon as I could, but he was a bit impatient. For a man of the cloth, I must say, Hargate did not practice much forgiveness.”

In fact, Hargate seemed to excel at all the deadly sins, Louisa thought, pride and avarice being the top contenders. But some gentlemen went into the clergy not because they had a calling or deep faith, but because, if they went the right way about it, they could make a good living and gain power. Hargate had been a power-seeker and hadn’t much tried to hide it.

“I am sorry,” Louisa said. “I know this is difficult for you.”

Daniel gave Mrs. Leigh-Waters a cheerful smile. “At least your slate is clean. You were able to pay your debt, and all was finished.”

“Not exactly.” Mrs. Leigh-Waters put her hand over Louisa’s, her eyes welling with tears. “Dearest Louisa, I must beg your forgiveness. I couldn’t pay Hargate the entire amount. My pin money for the month was gone, and I could not ask my husband for more without telling him why. I didn’t want Mr. Leigh-Waters to know. He doesn’t approve of gambling.”

This was the first Louisa had heard of it. Mr. Leigh-Waters was often seen around card tables at Isabella’s parties, his wife the same. But Louisa smiled encouragingly and let Mrs. Leigh-Waters go on.

“Hargate threatened to go to my husband directly. I begged him not to. I asked what else I could give him, something to keep him happy until I could raise the rest of the money. He said—oh, my dear Louisa, I am so ashamed of myself now.”

Louisa thought she understood. “Did Hargate ask you to arrange for him to speak to me alone?”

“Yes. Oh, my poor darling, I’m so sorry. I knew he meant to propose to you. He often spoke of you as being the perfect bride for him. He wasn’t wrong—you’d have made a very good bishop’s wife.” Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. “I agreed, I’m afraid. Anything to keep him from going to my husband.”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ distress was true but seemed a bit much for a woman who’d owed a debt from a card game. Most people in Mayfair owed each other for losses at whist, faro, hazard, the American game of poker, any sporting matches, or even which side of the street a cat would walk down. Gambling mania was alive and well in the haut ton. Louisa knew men who’d lost pieces of unentailed land, favorite horses, servants, and even houses, to their friends. The bets were squared eventually, often good-naturedly. Wives whose husbands frowned on their gambling did try to be covert, but sympathetic friends often helped them pay. Mrs. Leigh-Waters had lied when she’d said her husband disapproved of gambling, though, but Louisa couldn’t fathom why.

Daniel broke in, his voice quieter. “What did Hargate expect you to do, with respect to Louisa? Was letting him speak to her alone the end of it?”

Mrs. Leigh-Waters shook her head. “He wanted me to encourage her in the match if she proved shy. Talk her into it. Or bribe her, threaten her, whatever it took.”

Louisa’s eyes widened. “You promised him that?”

“I couldn’t help it.” More tears came, Mrs. Leigh-Waters’ large bosom rising. “I was desperate, my dear. And I didn’t see the harm. You told me yourself you’d decided this Season to look for a respectable husband. Hargate would have been a good match for you—would have helped you and your family.”

“At the expense of her happiness,” Daniel said. “If Louisa had accepted Hargate, I would have done anything to persuade her out of it.” He shuddered. “I couldn’t stick having Hargate for an uncle-in-law. Imagine having to be pleasant to him over pudding at Christmas. No, thank you.”

“I would have refused him,” Louisa said. “Hargate did try very hard to persuade me, telling me he’d forgive my family’s debts to him if I married him. My family has paid back most of what my father owed him, but he intended to squeeze me for the rest of it. Horrid man.”