Jack of Clubs (20 page)

“Very particular, Lady Carde,” the foreman explained to Jack. “But with fine taste,” he hastily appended, seeing Jack's smile fade at the slight to Nell.

“She married my brother, didn't she?” was all he said, following the man to the guest chambers the workmen had hastily cleared of dust and debris.

Harriet and Allie would share a suite of bedrooms, with a parlor between them. They could use that for lessons, instead of interfering with the construction in the nursery or below. Patsy was thrilled with the bed in the small dressing room, since it would be the first time in her life she had not shared a mattress, much less had a whole room to herself. Mrs. Crandall had a room across the hall that almost left her in tears, it was so fine, as if she were a real lady.

Seemingly exhausted by the move, Joker collapsed onto Harriet's bed and proceeded to snore while the kitten batted at his tail. Jack did not even bother to mention that the cat, which was still nameless, was supposed to live in the stable. A good officer knew when to stand and fight, and when to retreat.

“But no more pets, mind you,” he ordered, leaving the women to unpack while he settled the two men he had chosen as footmen and guards.

Some of the workmen were housed in the servants' rooms in the attics, since Alex had sent them from Nell's home and her brother's bankrupt shipyard in Hull. So Jack put Hawkins and Lundy in the butler's apartment near the servants' hall. The earl's major domo would be more offended than Alex at the men's lack of polish, but they were more of Jack's former soldiers, and he knew they were good men, brave and loyal. They would defend the women against all enemies—and defend his brother's house against Harriet.

Cook had inspected the newly modernized kitchen while he stored the victuals. He was making clucking noises that sounded envious and expensive to Jack, so the captain hurried the man away and gathered up the women, to the workers' disappointment. He gave his last instructions to Harriet about listening to Miss Silver, learning her lessons, and leaving the hammers and saws alone.

“What about my pony?” she asked, her eyes filling with tears at his goodbye.

Great gods, had he promised her a pony? Jack feared he had.

“Not now, Harriet,” Miss Silver scolded. “Captain Endicott has done so much for us. Be grateful for the kitten.”

“No, if I promised, I shall find a pony. An Endicott never goes back on his word, you know.
Ever True
, that's our family motto.”

A tear fell. “And then you'll come visit, to teach me how to ride?”

He gulped and nodded.

She sniffed. “And take me and Miss Silver for rides in Hyde Park?”

Zeus, just what he did not want to do. Harriet was clinging to his leg, though, looking like an abandoned puppy. “Of course.”

She grinned and skipped off to finish exploring the house.

“Do not pester the workmen!” he called after her. “Then again,” he told Allie, who was smiling and shaking her head at how easily he had been manipulated, “maybe one of them will wring her neck and save me the bother. And the expense of a blasted pony.”

“If you cannot afford a pony right now, she will have to understand,” Allie said, worried for his sake. “And I can wait until next quarter for my salary.”

Jack swore, but too low for Allie to hear. Deuce take it, he had more pride than that, to be borrowing from a woman! “No.” Jack used his army commander's tone that brooked no opposition. “My expenses are none of your concern. I shall manage.”

After all, what did he need a racing curricle for, anyway? They could not all fit on the narrow bench.

Chapter Twenty

Jack went to the stables after seeing Darla and the others back into the coaches for the return to The Red and the Black. Samuel was there, because Samuel was always there. He'd been the assistant stable man in Jack's father's time, and took over as both head groom and driver after the accident that killed the previous earl's wife and the previous coachman. He'd stayed on in London when Alex and Nell went to the country because Carde Hall had its own stable staff and drivers. Besides, someone had to look after the horses kept in town for emergencies or messages or a hurried visit by the earl or his countess. And old Samuel had an old lady friend in town, too.

Now he slapped his thigh and almost fell off the bale of hay he used as a seat.

“You? A guardian for a girl child? And a prunes and prisms schoolmarm?”

Jack had to slap his back when the old man started coughing. “I do not find it a laughing matter.”

Neither did Samuel when Jack told him about the arsonist, the irate marquess, and the pimp. Samuel agreed to keep a watch out, and confer with the new guards if he saw anyone suspicious. Then he said, “You always were a one for finding trouble, weren't you?”

Jack did not appreciate the old retainer's opinion—a wrong opinion at that. He had not set out to find Harriet, Miss Silver, or Pasty. All he'd wanted was to run his club, find his sister, and enjoy himself while doing both. After years in the army, he felt he deserved that, not headache piled upon havoc. “Trouble seems to find me, rather.”

“It always does. Why, I remember the time when you and the earl went off to that fair, innocent as lambs.”

“That was not my fault. The bear was wandering around, loose.”

“So you always said. A fine rowdydow that turned out to be.”

“Do not mention the bear, or any of my youthful peccadillos, to Miss Hildebrand. She is enough of a scapegrace as is. Oh, and by the way, has my brother asked you to find a pony for the heir?”

“The heir?” Samuel picked at his teeth with a bit of straw. “Wasn't the little viscount born just a year or so ago?”

“More or less. The new infant should arrive early in the new year. He—or she—will need a pony too.”

“Now? No, his lordship said nothing to me about any pony for a babe that can't walk yet and one not even born. Besides, he intends to keep them in the country most of the time.”

“But if you just happened to find the perfect mount, not too dull, not too headstrong, you might consider purchasing it for the future, mightn't you?”

“Without the master's orders?”

“Oh, we both know he gives you leave to run the stables as you see fit. And I would not trust that gudgeon at the stables at Cardington to find just the right pony for my nephews. Or my new niece.”

Samuel scratched his head. “Then I'd need someone small enough to exercise the beast, wouldn't I?”

“Precisely. Miss Hildebrand would love the job. She accepts. She will be here tomorrow unless I miss my guess, pestering you anyway. If you thought the bear was trouble, you have not met Harriet.”

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could go back to his own affairs. His ward and her warden were safe, sheltered, and scandal-free. Now he could put his mind to making money and finding his lost sister. If he wanted to have a liaison with one of the lovelies who came to his club, that was his business too. No one was going to frown and chide him for his morals; no one was going to accuse him of corrupting the mind of a minor.

And no one was going to sigh so sweetly when he kissed her.

Oh, hell.

Jack decided he was sick. None of the women appealed to him; none of the games of chance interested him; none of the club's income satisfied him; no one came with information about Lottie to sell him. So he went back to visit Harriet and Miss Silver late the next morning. After all, Harriet was costing him as much as a mistress, and she was a great deal more fun.

The door to the house was closed to him. His own house! Well, his childhood home, anyway, his brother's house where Jack was always welcome, until he'd installed a shrew there. The guard—his own man, on his own payroll—refused him entry.

Oh, he could come in, of course, to speak with the architect or inspect the work, but he was not permitted to interrupt Miss Harriet's lessons in the mornings. No one was, Lundy reported. Miss Silver felt that strongly about it, and the others would be embarrassed.

The others? Had the wantwit of a woman taken in other infants to educate on his time, with his money?

He pushed past his former soldier. Lundy would be a former employee, too, Jack warned, if he did not stand aside. Then he squeezed past two men with a ladder on the stairs, a large wooden crate on the upper landing, and piles of Holland covers in the guest wing.

The door to the sitting room was open, so Jack went in without knocking, only to be caught up short at the entry. Half of his employees were there, Darla and Maisy and Monique and the new maid, Pasty, along with Calloway, Cook, Mary Crandall and his other guard. They sat on the elegant new furniture or on the floor, slates in their laps, chalk in their hands. Miss Silver stood at a larger chalkboard, writing letters from the alphabet and simple words for them to copy. Harriet was circling the room, correcting a misspelling here, a curlicue there.

“
Cee
is for cat,” Allie was saying, her back to the door as she wrote. “Cuh, cuh. Cat. Cards.”

“Cap'n Jack,” one of the girls said.

“Excellent, Maisy.”

Jack cleared his throat. Allie turned, and turned seven shades of scarlet. “Oh, that captain.”

Jack was the one who was embarrassed. Clunch, cork-brain, clod. He had not known so many of his people, people who depended on him, could not read. How could they find better positions, improve their lot in life, without a skill he took for granted? Callow, uncaring, caper-witted, he called himself. “Carry on.”

“No, we are almost finished for the day,” Allie said, putting down her chalk. She gave Harriet a stack of papers to hand to the others, so they could practice on their own.

“Tomorrow at eleven, Miss Silver?” Hawkins asked. “I'll tell Lundy. It's his turn.”

Now Jack felt even more of a cur as the rest of them filed past him, their eyes downcast. “I, ah, I think this is a fine thing you are doing, learning to read,” he told them. “I am sorry I never thought of it myself.”

“That's all right, cap'n. You were too busy.”

When they had left, Harriet racing toward the stables to see if her new pony had arrived, Jack told Allie, “I should have made the time.”

“But you are here now, to spend the afternoon with Harriet.” Approval shone in her gray eyes, making the blue flecks dance. Jack had not known how much her approval meant to him until he felt warmed by her regard. He'd feel better yet if he had truly come to visit Harriet, and not her governess.

“I thank you for what you are doing,” he told her, and meant it. He was still upset that he had neglected those under his care. He tried to explain it, as much for his own benefit as hers. “I, ah, was not raised to be the lord of the manor, you know. That was my brother's job, ruler of his little kingdom, responsible for the well-being of everyone in his domain. I was merely the frippery second son, the afterthought in case of emergency.”

“Nonsense. I'd wager that while you were in the army you held more men's lives in your keeping than your brother ever did. Your veterans all sing your praises, saying other officers never looked after their men so carefully. Why, Calloway told me some of the officers did not even ride into battle with their troops, but sent the men ahead on their own. You never did.”

“Calloway talks too much.” Bless his larcenous heart.

Allie was going on: “And now you are hiring as many former soldiers as you can, to give them an income and self-respect.”

“But you are giving them, and the women, hope for a better future and pride in their accomplishments. That is worth a great deal.”

Allie straightened the remaining papers. “I like to teach.”

Jack surprised himself by saying, “And I like you, Miss Allison Silver,” which may have been the most honest, least flirtatious, words he had ever spoken to a female. He waited expectantly.

And waited.

Finally Allie said, “I think you are doing a fine thing, taking in Captain Hildebrand's daughter and trying to give her a decent upbringing.”

Away from him and his gambling club. She did not say the words, but Jack heard them anyway.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I shall go see if Samuel in the stables has tendered his resignation yet.”

Allie made a tidy stack of the slates and gathered the chalks into a jar for tomorrow. Still without looking at Jack, she said, “I understand that you promised to visit Harriet, but I wish you would not interfere with her lessons. Mrs. Semple always believed that a regular schedule taught the students discipline and organization.”

“What about fun?”

“There is time for play, early in the morning when we shall go to the park and in the afternoon after the classwork. I thought you would be late rising, with the club open until long past midnight. I scheduled the staff's lessons for as late as possible, not to disturb their rest. You may come after that.”

Jack was dismissed…and he was disgusted. Here he was, paying the woman's salary, keeping her in elegant surroundings, doing his damnedest to protect her reputation, and baring his soul besides. And what did he get? Not a kiss, not a smile, not even a handshake. He bowed and left.

Allie sank onto a chair. There, she had done it.
Ess
was for success and self-preservation and seeing her plan through. She had let Jack go without begging him to stay. Keeping her distance was the only way, she had decided, that she was going to survive working for Captain Endicott. Otherwise, she might be tempted to throw herself into his arms, right in the makeshift classroom. That or throw herself off the freshly shingled roof of Carde House!

What sounded easy enough in the middle of the night while she was alone in her bedroom was a lot harder by day, with Jack standing a few feet away. He looked so handsome this morning, with his hair still damp from his morning wash. He had fresh, healthy color in his cheeks, as if he had walked the distance from the club, instead of a habitual gambler's nighttime pallor. He wore a spotted kerchief around his neck instead of a neckcloth, and fawn breeches that hugged his muscular thighs. And she was going to turn her back on him?

Then he said he liked her. Not enough to want her for his mistress, of course, but he liked her. Allie was glad. She was glad that he respected her, and glad, she told herself, that he was not interested in her for anything but Harriet's sake.

Besides, she had thought long and hard last night—with plenty of time, since she was not sleeping—about these peculiar feelings she had for the man. Lust, that's what they were: a spinster's last gasp at knowing a grand passion. Of course he was attractive and charming and practiced in the art of pleasing a woman. Well, tempting a woman, at any rate. He was a rake, for pity's sake. Allie pitied herself, because she was all too tempted.

He might be a libertine, but she was no lightskirt. Why, she blushed now to think of how high he had raised her skirts, but that was beside the point. If she behaved like a proper governess, he would treat her like a proper governess. Otherwise, she was lost.

Her virginity was not all she would lose, either. Her very soul would be his to cherish or destroy on a whim, today, tomorrow, next month. Well, a maidenhead and a heart were not all that much to sacrifice, were they, for time in Jack Endicott's arms? Neither one had done her much good for the past twenty-five years.

But what if she had a child? The idea of a babe of her own, an infant to hold and nurture, almost brought tears to Allie's eyes, for what she had never thought to have. But although the babe might have Jack's brown hair and eyes, and his authoritative nose, the child would not have Jack's last name. And a man did not marry his mistress, and a rake did not want a female who was breeding. Allie would have her child, but no home, no income, no career. No. She could not do that to her unborn infant, or to her parents' memories.

And he wanted to know if she liked him. Hah!
Bee
was for buffle-headed and bacon-brained, and for biting her tongue to keep from telling him how much.

*

She did not like him? Jack told himself she would, soon, because gamblers were optimists by nature. After all, why would anyone bet if he did not believe he would win? Jack did not consider himself a true gambler, since he seldom played games he could lose, or for more money than he could afford. When the cards were bad, he simply withdrew. He did not depend on luck, only skill and experience.

Like now. He truly believed he could change Miss Silver's mind. She might not approve of him and his chosen vocation, but she already liked his kisses. On reflection, for which he had a great deal of sleepless time, he decided that the kisses were part of the problem. The silly widgeon had enjoyed them too much, he'd bet, to her own surprise and dismay. Lust was not part of the teacher's syllabus, so she was embarrassed and anxious and keeping him at arm's length or further.

She might even be afraid he would dishonor her. Honest as always, Jack confessed to himself that she might have cause. But he had not, when he could have, so she ought to trust him. Then again, mistrusting gentlemen, known womanizers and wagerers especially, was definitely a lesson learned at every girls' school.

He would simply have to teach Allie otherwise.

All good soldiers planned their campaign carefully and relied on allies. Jack had a guide book and Harriet. No child's education was complete, he decided, until he or she had seen all the sights London offered. The history, the architecture, the marvels of modern science, all were laid out as a course of study. Besides, Harriet should know her way around, in case she ever got lost.