“Tony, what a pleasant surprise. I didn’t think I was going to see you until tonight.”
Tony dropped a kiss on the top of Claudia’s head and then led her over to the sofa, but stayed standing even after she sat down.
He cleared his throat nervously and then said: “I am not going to beat around the bush, Claudia. I have something important to ask you.”
Claudia could feel her heart beating faster. Was he going to propose today? She knew it was where they had been heading these past few weeks. And she thought she knew what her answer would be. Despite the rumors and despite the difference in their ages, she knew that Tony cared about her, that she was in love with him, and that they were attracted to each other. A better basis for marriage than most, surely.
“You know my situation, Claudia. I’ve told you what a responsibility fell on my shoulders when Ned died.”
She nodded.
“When I first came to London, I thought…now I see it was foolish, of course, but I was so overwhelmed… I
have
been gambling as much as they say. I never was much of a player before, so I am not sure why it has such a hold on me. I suppose it is Ashford. Anyway, I am not trying to make excuses. And I am determined to stop.”
Claudia smiled up at him. “I am very glad, Tony. I have heard rumors, but didn’t want to believe them.”
“Yes, well…” Tony turned away. Clearly he was making this difficult confession to clear the way for his proposal, she thought. “But before I stop,” he continued, “I must pay off my debts. I hate to ask you this, Claudia, but I need to borrow six hundred pounds…er, guineas.”
Claudia’s heart sank. She had so wanted him to be leading up to a declaration. She had so wanted to throw her arms around his neck and be lost in his embrace. And to relax again, knowing that she once again had a protector.
But then, Tony was not Justin, she reminded herself. And she was no seventeen-year-old girl. And standing in front of her was that boy whom she sensed in Tony, who was at last trying to grow up. And wouldn’t she prefer the eventual proposal (for she knew it would come) from a man?
“Exactly how much do you need, Tony?” she asked quietly.
“Six hundred guineas would clear everything.”
“All right. I will send to the bank this afternoon and have it delivered directly.”
“Claudia, you don’t know how ashamed I am to be taking this from you.”
“Nonsense. We are good friends, aren’t we? We care about one another. Well, good friends help one another out.” Claudia wanted no shame-ridden gratitude to taint their relationship. “Now let us put this behind us. Do you go to Lord Roth’s tonight?”
“For a short while. Then I will have to go to St. James Street to clear myself.”
“Of course,” Claudia murmured.
“But we will have a waltz and supper together at Devonshire House tomorrow.”
“I will look forward to that, then.”
“I must go, Claudia. But I thank you, my lady, with all my heart, for your generous friendship.” The look in Tony’s eyes more than compensated for the few moments of disappointment on the sofa.
Jim stood on the corner, waiting for the hansom cab to pick him up. He was a few blocks from the house, but shuffled his feet nervously, for another servant might come by at any time. He was relieved to see the cab approaching and have the door opened for him from the inside.
“Good afternoon, your lordship,” he said as he settled into the cab.
“Good afternoon, Jim. Do you have anything new to report to me?”
Jim felt very important as he nodded solemnly and said, “Indeed I do, my lord.”
Fairhaven’s eyes narrowed, and when Jim looked into his face a sort of shiver went through him at the predatory look on his employer’s face. He hesitated for a moment, but then remembered he was not feeding mice to an impatient cat, but giving a member of Lady Fairhaven’s family information that might save her from an irredeemable mistake.
“Well?” Fairhaven demanded sharply.
“Lord Ashford visited Lady Fairhaven early yesterday afternoon. Of course I couldn’t overhear their conversation, but William, the upper-footman, told me that he had been sent to cash a bank draft for over six hundred guineas and then directed to deliver the money to Lord Ashford. I am sure that Ashford came for the express purpose of begging money.”
“So he is finally showing his true colors,” said Fairhaven, with great satisfaction. “I knew that my cousin was in danger, Jim. I admit that I hated to hire a spy, but I needed to know that my suspicions had some basis. Now I know they do.”
“I have become very devoted to her ladyship,” Jim volunteered hesitantly. “Any reservations about my job are quite gone now.”
Fairhaven drew a guinea out of his pocket. “Here is a bonus for your work, Jim. I will find some way to put this information to good use.” He ordered the cab to let him down at the next corner and returned home in a far happier mood than he had been for days.
* * * *
That night, he too was to be at Devonshire House, and left his office early in order to stop at his club, something he rarely did. It was his lucky day, he decided, for not only did he have Jim’s piece of information, but when he entered, all the talk was of how Tony Varden had dropped almost six hundred guineas at
Rouge et Noir
last night.
“And you know Tony,” said one of Ashford’s acquaintances proudly. “He never turned a hair. Cool as you please, he kept betting the black. Won a little at first, but even when he started losing, his expression never changed. Down five hundred seventy guineas and he spent the rest treating the house to champagne, as if he were a winner, not a loser. God knows where he got the money to play with to begin with.”
“Rumor has it, from a certain not-so-young widow,” said another, not realizing who had just walked in behind him.
“Are you referring to Lady Fairhaven?” asked Mark coldly.
“Er…not especifically, why no, of course not.”
“Good, for I would hate to have my cousin’s name bandied about.”
“Good God, Henry,” said his friend as Mark moved on to the other room, “Watch what you say.”
“Well, it is well known that Ashford is after her. And that she isn’t running away. I’ll bet it will be a match within a month.”
“You are behind the times, Henry. I entered that bet in the books over two weeks ago. But I will bet that Ashford’s gambling makes her think twice about marrying him. If she ain’t careful, he’ll go through her fortune.”
* * * *
When he got to Devonshire House, Mark found his cousin immediately and made sure to obtain a waltz with her later on in the evening. He danced with a few young ladies and made polite conversation, but most of his attention was taken up watching for Ashford’s arrival.
When Mark went to claim Claudia for his waltz, Tony had still not arrived. No doubt he did not have the courage to face her, thought Mark, as he led Claudia onto the dance floor.
After the dance ended, he asked Claudia if she would like to go for a short walk in the garden. “You look a bit drawn, my dear,” he added solicitously.
Claudia took one last look around the room and then thanked Mark and took his arm.
He was very careful not to move out of sight of the couples that were walking outside. He did not intend to betray his own interest yet. But he did make sure they were out of hearing when he sat Claudia down on a bench facing one corner of the knot garden.
“Claudia, I am hesitant to bring this up again, but I am worried about you and Ashford.”
“Mark, we have already gone over this.”
“I know, but last time we spoke, I had only heard second- and third-hand rumors about his gambling. I have seen your growing interest in him and it has worried me, but since I wish only for your happiness, I did not intend to say anything. Now I must. The news was all over my club that Ashford dropped almost six hundred guineas at the tables last night. Or five hundred and eighty, to be precise. The rest he spent in drinks for all and sundry,” added Mark dryly.
He heard Claudia’s sharp intake of breath and smiled to himself.
“There are wagers in the books on whether Ashford will succeed in winning a certain Lady F. I hate to have you treated in such a vulgar fashion, Claudia, but if you continue seeing Ashford, that is what you can expect.” Mark hesitated. “I also couldn’t help but wonder where Ashford got the money. He has never gone to the tables with that much before. You didn’t fund him, did you, my dear?”
Claudia thought that she had never hated Mark Halesworth so much as at that moment. She was sure he didn’t care at all for her reputation, but was more concerned with her feelings for Tony Varden. Underneath all his supposed concern she was sure he was gloating. She could feel it.
Now you see I was right, he was only after your money.
Except he didn’t have the courage to say it straight out.
Underneath her fierce anger at Mark she was very hurt. How could Tony have promised and then gone right off to the tables? Were Mark and all the gossips right? Was there nothing to Tony but the fortune hunter and compulsive gamester? Had she completely deceived herself and seen affection where there was none, merely because she had fallen in love like a green girl? Well, whatever the truth was, she wasn’t about to let Mark see it.
“I did give him the money. Not that it is anyone’s business,” Claudia answered coldly. “It is, after all, my money, and I can do with it as I wish.”
“But surely you meant him to pay off his creditors, not throw it away on the table.”
“I don’t put conditions on my gifts, Mark. I had no idea what Tony wanted the money for,” she lied.
“But now that you know? Surely you won’t—”
“Won’t what? Marry him? I will if he asks me. And if he doesn’t, perhaps I will ask him,” she added boldly. “You see, Tony and I are very good friends.”
“Friendship is no basis for marriage, Claudia.”
“We are more than just good friends, Mark. And I am a grown woman now. I can marry whomever I wish. And I wish to marry Tony Varden.”
“I thought you and Cousin Justin were very happy together.”
“Of course we were. But we might easily not have been, a seventeen-year-old girl and a forty-seven-year-old man. This time, I will do the choosing.”
“You mean buying.”
Claudia wanted to slap Mark across his self-satisfied face, but she resisted. As she stood up, she said: “I am going to marry Tony, Mark. And believe me, I will be very happy with a young husband. If you do not approve, that is your business, but I do not need your advice, however well meaning,” she added, with some sarcasm. “Of course, if you cannot bring yourself to accept my decision, you need not visit. Now, please, I would like to go in.”
Claudia smiled and chatted and danced for the rest of the evening, making sure that none would think her concerned by Tony’s absence or the gossip that was floating around her. All the while, of course, she was suffering, and was never so glad to have an evening end. When she got home, she dismissed her maid, undressed herself, and crawled under the covers, where she cried herself to sleep. She had meant what she said to Mark: she would marry Tony, one way or another. But she had so hoped to marry the man she knew Tony could become.
* * * *
Mark went home frustrated and furious. He had hardly needed to plant a spy in the house, had he? he asked himself sarcastically. Claudia herself was perfectly willing to tell him where things stood. While he had intended to provoke her by his use of his private information, it certainly had not been to a declaration. Although, now that he thought of it, it was his use of Jim’s information that had gotten her to reveal the state of her heart. She was obviously determined to marry Ashford, no matter what kind of fool he was. He would have to do something—and soon—to prevent it.
Tony had intended to ignore the gossips and attend the Devonshire House rout. He knew Claudia was expecting him and he knew he should be there, showing his affection, so that she didn’t suffer more from rumor than he did. But when the moment came, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face her again with empty pockets. He had looked desperately around his room and finally had sent his valet out with his second-best pair of boots and a gold watch that had belonged to his father. He had almost added the Ashford signet ring, but the act of pulling it off his finger brought back the day before Ned had died. His brother had been too weak to do it himself and had lifted his hand to Tony and whispered: “Take it now, Tony. It will be yours very soon anyway.” He had protested, but Ned had just smiled and run his hand gently over his brother’s curls as Tony lay his head on Ned’s hand, trying to choke back the tears. He had already failed Ned miserably, but he would not sell the Ashford ring.
The boots and the watch fetched enough so that he could go back to 75 St. James and lay more money in the black. He had started with black, been lucky with it, and he was not going to desert it. He’d be faithful to one thing in his life, by God, even if it was only to the color of a card.
He started out low, being careful of his money, and when he lost on the first three deals, he still had enough to place a small bet on the fourth. He won. And kept on winning. By the end of the evening he had recouped almost three hundred guineas of Claudia’s money. His step on the stairs to his lodgings was a lot lighter coming in than it had been going out. He fell into his bed exhausted and didn’t wake up until the next afternoon.
He didn’t call on Claudia, but sent her a small bouquet of flowers, promising to see her at the Ferrars’, and asking her to save him a waltz. He was tempted to pay off a few creditors, but decided that he would wait. He wanted to show Claudia the money he’d won and assure her that all he needed was another three hundred. The last loan. And this time he would pay off his debts, every last one of them. And then ask Claudia to marry him.
* * * *
He arrived early at the Ferrars’ dinner dance, creating a minor storm of gossip. By now, of course, it was known he had won the night before, so no one was surprised that he was present and at his most charming.