His to Hold (Regency Scoundrels Book 1) (25 page)

“What will you do now?” Mary asked softly.

“I shall play the part of the dutiful daughter. He does love me in his own way, I suppose. But now that I think of it, I do believe that my father needs to learn a few lessons taught by me. He’s become too arrogant about his skills as a cardsharp. Can I count on your assistance?”

“I shall do whatever you wish,” Mary murmured, staring at her quizzically. “As long as it doesn’t involve dancing with your father that is. I don’t want to get within two feet of him.” Mary shuddered.

Elizabeth chuckled, and then relayed her whole masterful plan to Mary. Before long, she would have her dear papa going mad.

*****

Mallory watched her carefully as she walked along the quayside to reunite with her father. He grimaced as he heard her father’s booming voice calling her “My Bess!”

The imposing man pulled her into an embrace, and she looked as if she was being swallowed alive. Her father pulled away from her at last, and led her toward a waiting carriage.

Mallory still could not take his eyes off her, and sighed when the carriage door shut, sealing her away from him.

“She will find her way back to you,” Seamus declared solemnly, puffing on his pipe.

“For once, Seamus, I pray that you are right.” He walked down off his ship, and was surprised when MacLeod rushed over to him, and intercepted him. Seamus had followed them, he obviously wanted to hear what MacLeod had to say.

“Mary told me that you will probably be hitting some of the gaming hells tonight, visiting your family, and then returning to the call of the sea.”

“Perhaps. I shall visit White’s first, and then my family. If I am lucky, they will be visiting my aunt here in London, and then in about a fortnight, I shall have to answer the call of the sea. It’s in my blood, you know.”

MacLeod nodded his head adamantly. “Of course, of course. Shall you be at White’s, tonight?”

“I think that I might. Why?”

“How well do you fare at cards?”

“I am able to hold my own.” He narrowed his eyes, wondering at the man’s line of questioning. He could hold his own, just barely. He was nowhere as talented as Elizabeth…or her father as much as he hated to admit it.

“Excellent. My wife tells me that Geoffrey Woodward is over there bragging to Elizabeth about his many wins at that particular gaming hell. He shall be there tonight, he likes to hit his clubs around ten o’clock. If you know what is good for you, you shall make sure that you are there as well. I would expect that you will be able to challenge the pompous prig to a game of whist—and win.”

“I will be there,” Mallory said.

MacLeod smiled, nodded, and left without another word. Mallory followed him with his eyes, wondering what had inspired such a strange line of conversation.

“Well, Seamus, now that we are respectable seamen or in my case, since I’m back to being a duke for the next fortnight, I see no harm in going to that gaming hell tonight, do you?”

“I would say that tonight just might be your lucky night, sir.”

“Aye, that’s exactly what I was thinking.” He winked at Seamus and left him for the entertainment that London offered.

Perhaps, he would find something that would take his mind off Elizabeth. He groaned, and then realized that all of the rum, whisky or port in the world wouldn’t be able to do that.

Elizabeth had a long night ahead of her. She stared at her reflection in her mirror. Her father had just left for his night on the town. As she had suspected, there was absolutely nothing the matter with the old goat.

Well, he was still a jackass, but she knew that nothing could cure that ailment. He’d been awfully attentive to her, and had showered her with affection—most of which, she hadn’t wanted.

She pulled on her dark green jacket, and smoothed out her trousers. Now all that she had to do was don her wig, moustache and spectacles. Then, she would be ready to take her revenge.

She walked over to her dressing table, and stared down at the miniature portrait of her mother. Mallory’s hair had been tucked inside of the locket, and she picked it up to run it through her bare fingers before she pulled on her gloves.

She looked at the letter that Mallory had given her before that fateful last battle. She sighed, and summoning strength, she broke the wax seal on it, and started reading.

My dearest Elizabeth,

No matter what happens to me…pray remember one thing—I will love you until my dying breath…and then, most likely in the Hereafter, for our love is something that cannot die. I have never loved anyone as completely as I love you. My love for you has brought me back to the man I used to be.

I was born the second son of a duke, and christened with the name Mallory Jonathan Morgan St. Martin. For most of my life, I was known as Lord Mallory. Upon my brother’s death at
Trafalgar, I suddenly found myself thrust into a position I did not desire, indeed, I had never coveted. I was my father’s last remaining male heir, and as such, upon his death, I would become The 8
th
Duke of Chichester.

When my Papa died, I discovered that your father had gambled with my father at White’s, and my poor misguided father lost it all, save for our ancestral castle, Chichester Castle. My family was lowered into a situation I had never dreamt of, and I suddenly had to find a way to recoup our losses, and save the St. Martin Legacy
.
The rage I felt at the unfairness of it all was nearly crippling. I knew I had to protect my mother and my sisters from the cruelness of it all.

I was foolish to think I could exact my revenge against Woodward by using you. And, I shall always regret this foolhardy decision. You were not responsible for your father’s despicable deeds, and putting you through your paces was the worst thing I have ever done, especially since I have loved you from the very first moment I laid eyes upon you.

I humbly beg for your forgiveness, and as I am not accustomed to begging. This alone, is proof of my love for you. If I have not survived the battle…I pray that you have, and that you will think fondly of me until your dying day. I also hope you will find a man worthy of you, for I sometimes wonder if I am.

Be happy, darling.              

With all of my love,

Mallory.

Sighing heavily, she shut her eyes, and whispered a plea for forgiveness. She had thought too badly of Mallory, and had pushed him away when she should have thrown herself into his arms. Tonight, she would succeed in her endeavor, and she would have everything back that she and Mallory had lost.

She walked out of her bedchamber, and down the marble staircase. The servants had all retired, and she would be able to slip out unnoticed, and climb into Mary’s waiting carriage.

She bypassed the sleeping footmen that stood on watch until her father returned, and slipped out the door. She walked down the steps, and smiled when Mary’s carriage pulled into view.

The footman climbed down, and opened the door and lowered the steps, so that she could climb up. She settled herself next to Mary, and then Ronald tapped the ceiling with his walking stick to tell the driver to move on.

“Goodness gracious! If I had not been prepared, I would have never suspected that it was you, Elizabeth. Upon my word, you look quite altered.” Mary’s eyes were wide, and Ronald merely chuckled.

“You don’t think Mallory will recognize me, do you?”

“I daresay not. Although your sparkling eyes might betray you. They are your shining glory, Elizabeth.” Mary shook her head adamantly, and then smiled, “That poor man, when he does discover the truth, he will think that he has gone straight to Bedlam.”

“Oh, Mary. I would say that she does look the part of an effeminate dandy, that’s really nothing too manly about her.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Mary relented.

“I don’t care one way or the other, so long as it gains me admittance to White’s, as your guest, Ron.”

“You can be sure that it will,” he said reassuringly.

“Of course it will,” Mary decided.

“I don’t know how I can ever thank the two of you for your help.”

“Think nothing of it,” Ron said smiling. “However, perhaps, we could use your townhouse in Brighton during the little season. And your country estate in…”

“Ronald!” Mary exclaimed. “We do not expect anything from you, my dear. Except that is, to make Mallory a happy man, and we expect to enjoy a lifetime friendship with you and Mallory.”

“Oh, you can bet on that one,” Elizabeth sighed.

“Wouldn’t it be glorious if our little Alistair, and a daughter of yours, with Mallory married some day?” Mary asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Now, my dearest,” Ron said, clearing his throat. “I do believe you are thinking far ahead of yourself.”

“Am I, darling?” Mary asked innocently.

As their carriage pulled onto St. James’s Street, Elizabeth’s nervousness about the evening almost got the better of her. Before she knew it, she would be bowing to Mallory, as if she had just been introduced to him.

She would have to watch her tongue closely, for she did not want to accidentally call him by his first name, for that would definitely blow her ship right out of the water.

“Here we are,” Ronald said, as they drew up to the gentleman’s club. Ronald eyed her warily. “Calm down. We can’t go in there until you’re in character. You’ll be fine, Bess. You’ve always been better at cards than your papa. I remember when you bested him at the tender age of eight. You were such a small and bright little thing.

“He was so enraged, and your mama was so delighted. After he blustered a good deal, it must have finally dawned on him that having you be so clever was a credit to him, because by the next day he was boasting to my Papa about how clever you were and that my Papa didn’t have such a clever a child in his large brood. Fortunately, my Papa was smart enough not to contradict him, and I often wonder if he agreed with your papa, as none of us really are as sharp as you,” Ronald laughed.

“Ronald, I shall send the carriage back to wait for you, once it takes me home. Godspeed, you two,” Mary murmured, squeezing Elizabeth’s gloved hand affectionately. “I think that when this night is through, Mallory will discover that you are the rarest jewel on Earth.”

“I dearly hope so,” Elizabeth murmured, sliding toward the door. “I was fooling myself when I thought I could go on without him. I can’t deny myself my greatest treasure. If I do…I will end up hating myself.”

“Yes, you will,” Mary agreed.

Elizabeth climbed down the steps, unassisted, although Ron kept an eye on her to make sure she didn’t fall and break her neck. She inhaled deeply, attempting to fortify herself for her coming adventure. It was a clear night, and the stars were visible in the sky.

They were soon admitted into the club, and the familiar sounds of glasses clinking, laughter rolling through the club, and men talking, met her ears. She almost panicked when she caught sight of her cousin.

“Ron,” she murmured urgently. “It’s Raleigh! We need to leave before he ruins our plan.”

“You needn’t worry, he shan’t recognize you,” Ron said calmly, smiling, as someone called out a greeting to him. Like her, Ron’s mother hailed from British aristocracy, and despite being an American, he was fairly well received amongst his British peers.

“You don’t understand, Ron,” she said, “he knows all about my merry game of dress up. How do you think I gained admittance to the various clubs and gaming hells? I couldn’t very well do it alone! He was the one that dared me to do it in the first place! Oh, no, here he comes, our goose is cooked,” she groaned.

“Lord Beaconsfield,” Ron said, nodding to him.

Raleigh eyed Ron indifferently.

“There seems to be something quite familiar about you, sir, but I do not think we have been formerly introduced. Perhaps Bess could do the formalities for us.”

She groaned. She could only pray that the club was so noisy that no one had heard Raleigh. “Pray keep your voice down, Raleigh,” she hissed, watching to make sure that Mallory hadn’t noticed their exchange yet. Even if he did, he couldn’t know who Raleigh was without an introduction, could he?

“Raleigh, this is my childhood friend, Ronald MacLeod. You must recall me telling you about him.”

“Ah, yes. I think I might have met you when we were all younger, MacLeod. Your sisters, if I remember correctly, are quite lovely.”

Ron’s colour was up, and he was reading more into what Raleigh was saying than what her cousin actually meant. He was paying Ron a sincere compliment, not lusting over his sisters, as he probably presumed.

“Yes, they are quite fair, Raleigh. Prettier than me, at any rate,” she said quickly, hoping to avert fisticuffs between the two of them. Ron was fairly easy going, on everything, except when it came to his family. He was very protective of his family.

Ron grumbled, and Raleigh raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t exactly say that, Bess,” he murmured. “Please, Bess, I hope you harbour no ill will toward me, for my Mama’s bad behaviour.”

“No, I don’t. You can’t be held accountable for her actions. Pray, Raleigh call me Beaumont, while we are here. If I ever meant anything to you, you will let me have my ruse undiscovered tonight, if you do, I will be forever in your debt, and aside from accepting your marriage proposal, I shall give you whatever your heart desires.”

“Well, seeing as I was the one that brought this whole thing into being, I shan’t give you away. It is jolly good fun when you play the part of Beaumont, and take everyone’s money. Oh, if only they knew they were being bested by a woman,” he chuckled, and then sobered. ”I’ve never been able to deny you, have I?” he asked softly.

She shook her head. “Thank you, Raleigh. I am, as I said, indebted to you.”

“Not at all, not at all. May I stick around and watch the show that will come of it once your papa realizes you are besting him at his own game?”

“You may,” she said chuckling.

“Capitol,” he said, smiling brightly. He followed her gaze, as she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off Mallory. “Ah, now I understand. That is your fairy prince, isn’t it?” he asked softly, giving her a wistful stare.

She nodded her head. “Aye,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. She had to get a hold of herself. Her emotions were running riot, and she couldn’t have them command her, not at this point! She was too close to having everything that she’d ever wanted!

She gobbled Mallory up with her eyes, where he stood over by the Hazard tables, surrounded by his own group of friends. From what she could hear, they were laying friendly bets, nothing that could possibly make or break someone.

She could not see her father anywhere, though she knew that he would turn up in due course.

White’s was his favourite haunt. He loved the fact that he’d been admitted as a member, despite that fact that so many believed him to be an American. What many didn’t know was that her dear papa had been born in England to a viscount, and that he still loved the country of his birth. That’s probably why he had married her mother…he was more British than he sometimes liked to admit.

He was the youngest son, and so had been given a limited inheritance upon which he had amassed a financial empire once he adopted America as his home.

Despite all of that, his name had been put on the waiting list at White’s when he was born, and he had successfully become a member and maintained membership there for all of his adult life.

“Your Grace,” Ronald said, “I have brought you a gaming partner for tonight. My friend says that he is the best whist player this side of the Atlantic.”

“Is that so?” Mallory asked, inclining his head toward her.

Her heart raced, as he locked his brilliant blue eyes on her, and for one perilous moment, she believed he had seen past her disguise.

His friends faded away, and kept to their game. She looked away, and tried to keep herself from suffocating, she felt as if she just might faint. She had to keep it together. She couldn’t be weak, not now.

“Aye,” she managed to stammer out. She had lowered her voice, and hoped that it would convince him just as it had convinced so many men before him.

Raleigh hovered nearby, and was so close in fact, that he demanded an introduction.

“His Grace, I wager, will find in due course that you will prove yourself a worthy partner.”

“Oh, I hope so,” she murmured, still avoiding Mallory’s gaze.

“MacLeod, to whom do I have the privilege of having as my gaming partner? And who is the gentleman with him?” Mallory asked, studying her with that intent gaze of his.