Gambling on a Scoundrel (19 page)

Poor little rich girl. She'd never even been to Bath? Lucien wished the excitement in her eyes was for him, rather than for the opportunity to chase down that dolt, Ernest, but how could he turn her down? How could he extinguish that spark? And how could he refuse her request to travel with him? "It sounds like an excellent strategy. And while you're doing whatever it is you propose to do to further your plan with your
sweetheart
," he said, trying not to overly stress the distasteful word, "I will do what I can to help distract his new fiancée."

Tempy's smile faltered, and she finally looked at him. "Distract her? How?"

Was that a spark of irritation he detected? Something within him crowed at seeing it. "I don't know her well enough yet, but perhaps I can help drive a wedge between them. It will depend on how the hand plays out. We shall see."

Mme Le Clair's gaze darted back and forth between them, and then she stared at Lucien as she narrowed her eyes in dawning comprehension. "Yes, I believe we shall."

Mme Le Clair shifted her feet so she faced Lucien, and it was as though she pinned him in place with her gaze. What did she want? "I'd like a private word with you."

Lucien wanted to say no, but with a sigh of resignation, he watched Tempy walk away. He turned his attention back to Mme Le Clair.

"What's going on between you and Temperance? Don't bother to deny it. I know you too well. It's obvious you're smitten with her."

"You're imagining things. And even if I were
smitten
, as you say, what difference would it make? She's in love with Ernest."

"No, she isn't. She's simply afraid to be alone."

"And she's chosen him, along with his entire family, to be her companion in life."

"For now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She waived her hand in dismissal. "Nothing. I'm allowing myself to be sidetracked. That's not what I wanted to discuss with you." Her normally smooth forehead showed signs of worry. "Are you certain that Boothby is the best person to take with you, considering your destination?"

"What do you mean? He's perfect."

"I'm worried that he might come in contact with his father."

"Would that be so bad?" Lucien asked, but then paused. "What are you saying? You
did
tell him who his father is, didn't you?"

She pressed her lips together for a moment, as though she didn't want to answer him, and then she let out a frustrated sigh. "I never thought it was necessary. It's not as though the man ever comes to London. I thought they'd never lay eyes on one another."

"But Boothby has a right to know," Lucien insisted.

"A right? Who has a right? The father who denied his son, or the boy who I tried to protect from that humiliation? Where is the 'right' that makes that knowledge of any benefit to Marcus?"

"Considering he was named for his father, I think his mother must have had a different opinion."

She shook her head in denial. "She only named him that in the hope that his father would accept him. But it didn't work." She looked down at her clenched hands. "I can only wonder how many more sons named 'Marcus' the man has discarded over the years."

"Boothby has a right to know."

"Fine. But I want to be the one who tells him. As his mother's closest friend, it's my obligation, not yours."

Lucien shook his head. "He's not here right now, and I don't think this can wait. I can tell him."

"I'll do everything I can to make sure I tell him before he leaves, but you must promise me that you won't tell him. This is important. It needs to come from me."

Lucien sighed. "Fine. I won't tell him. But you must talk to him today."

She nodded. "Yes. It's for the best."

18 - Bath

Something interrupted Tempy's snooze, and she sat with her eyes closed for a moment, wondering what had awakened her. It didn't take her long to realize that the train was slowing. She opened her eyes and blinked against the sunlight streaming through the train window as she leaned forward to look outside.

The Georgian facades of buildings seemed to roll past, but, of course, it was she who was moving, not the buildings. Each building had its own symmetry and balance and Tempy found their order to be soothing, especially when compared to the more riotous architecture of London.

She could feel the rattle of the car continue to slow as they lost speed. They'd stop soon, and she'd finally be in Bath.

She glanced at her traveling companions. They were waking up as well. All except for Lucien, who appeared completely alert. He gathered together some papers and ledgers and slid them into a satchel.

The train lurched to a stop at the platform. Once she was certain that it wouldn't jerk forward again, she rose to her feet. When she glanced at Lucien, he looked away.

That kiss had changed things. She wanted to go back to the comfortable camaraderie they'd developed over the past week, but didn't know how.

Lucien lifted his arm toward the door of the compartment, ushering Tempy and Millicent ahead of him. Her skirts brushed against the sides of the narrow, paneled corridor as she moved toward the exit.

The train was high above the platform, and Tempy grabbed hold of the handrail as she negotiated the steep steps leading from the train car. A uniformed porter assisted her as she stepped off the last tread, smiling and nodding as he welcomed her to Bath.

Tempy looked at the faces of the men around her, wondering if Mr. Byrd had followed her here to Bath. She recognized some of them as being fellow passengers, but none of them paid her any particular attention. A moment later she gave up. She was no good at this sort of thing. How could she expect herself to spot one unknown man in this throng?

She spotted Boothby and her maid, Mary, hurrying toward them through the press of passengers. Once they were all together, Lucien led the way toward the front of the station.

After only a few moments, Boothby procured a hackney and a wagon. He supervised as their bags were loaded into the wagon, and Lucien led Tempy and Millicent toward the waiting hackney.

It was at that moment that Tempy realized that she didn't know where they were going. "I never asked, but where will we be staying tonight?"

"I have a house at the top of the hill." Lucien tilted his head back as he walked and looked up at the sky. Could he be searching for signs of rain in the cloudless sky, or was he simply trying to avoid looking at her? "We'll stay there tonight," he continued, "and tomorrow we'll leave for Exmoor. It's at the opposite end of Somerset, so it will take us some time to reach it. I have an estate there with a problem that needs sorting out."

Tempy's steps faltered. "I had no idea you owned so much property."

Lucien didn't say anything, but just tugged open the door of the carriage and waited for the two ladies to enter.

Millicent snorted. "I'm not surprised. Up until last week he hadn't even decided whether or not to accept it."

Tempy looked from Millicent back to Lucien. "What is she talking about?"

Lucien shot Millicent an irritated frown.

"Don't look at me that way," Millicent said, obviously nonplussed by his ire. "You had plenty of time to tell her on the train. She's bound to figure it out on her own soon enough."

He glanced over his shoulder at the crowded station and said, "If you'll kindly enter the carriage, I'll explain en route."

Tempy hesitated and then acquiesced. The carriage was open, and as it sprang forward onto the street, the cool breeze against her face was pleasant change from the stuffy air of the train car.

For a moment, she lost herself in her enjoyment of the city as she took in the bright blue skies above the perfectly sculpted architecture of Bath. Each front door was centered with precision, anchoring the symmetry of its edifice. The honey-colored stone facades and the nearly identical mansard roofs made the buildings seem as though they were standing at attention, or perhaps in a slightly relaxed military parade rest. She'd heard that Bath was beautiful, but this was beyond her expectations. As the carriage moved north along the road, she could only catch glimpses of a river off in the distance to her right. A number of hotels blocked her view, but then they came upon an open park, which finally provided her with a clear view to the river. "It's so pleasant here," she murmured.

"Perhaps that's why it has endured so long," Lucien replied. "When the Romans found that the ancient Celts had discovered hot springs here, they dubbed the city Aquae Sulis and built elaborate baths. The city has been continuously inhabited ever since then. The entire town exists because of a geological curiosity," Lucien said.

Tempy remembered the question she'd asked and turned away from the view to glance over at Lucien. "You put me off earlier. Why are you being so enigmatic? I'm beginning to suspect that someone gave you property here."

"In a manner of speaking, yes. I inherited it from my uncle. He passed away about a month ago."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Tempy said automatically.

Lucien shrugged one shoulder. "We weren't close. I hadn't seen him in years."

"Look over to the right," Millicent said, gesturing. "This is the Parade Park. There's a nice view of the river from here."

Tempy glanced over politely, but the conversation inside the carriage was much more interesting than the view out there. She turned back to Lucien. "He left you a house here in Bath and an estate in Exmoor?"

He nodded.

Millicent chuckled and then cleared her throat. "Along with a title."

Lucien shot Millicent an annoyed glare.

"Don't look at me that way," Millicent scolded. "She'll find out soon enough when you arrive in Exmoor tomorrow and everyone starts
my
lord
ing you."

"What title?" Tempy asked, startled by the revelation.

"Earl of Cavendish," Millicent said, not without glee.

The carriage turned onto a new road, and they began heading away from the river.

"You're the new earl everyone's been speculating about?" Tempy asked, confused by the news. "But I thought his last name was Prescot, not Hamlin."

"I took a different name when I decided to open a casino," he said, "in deference to my father's wishes."

"That explains why no one's been able to identify you yet," Tempy said, almost to herself. This was quite the story. "When do you plan to announce your identity?"

That put a sour expression on Lucien's face. "I've been delaying that for as long as possible. At first, I wasn't even certain I wanted to accept it. And now, I'd prefer completing the sale of my casino before word gets out. John sent a message that he'll have his offer ready by the time I return from this trip."

He looked conflicted. There must be more to the story of how he'd come to be the Earl of Cavendish than he was revealing. Considering that he'd wanted to reject his inheritance, whatever it was must be significant. And to think he'd been dealing with all of this while she'd pushed her own personal problems onto his plate. How could she have been so oblivious? She should have realized that something was troubling him.

Tempy shot Lucien a sympathetic look. "I hope you know that I'd never reveal something like that."

When some of the tension eased from his face, she realized he'd been afraid of just that. He'd actually thought she might betray him. It hurt to know he'd trusted her so little. She turned away to hide how deeply this slight cut her.

In an effort to distract herself, Tempy focused on the world outside the carriage and noticed that they had moved into a residential area. In the nearby park, little girls pranced around in their pinafores while a group of boys used sticks to roll their hoops along the side of the street. When the carriage turned onto Gay Street and headed up a hill, some women pushing prams along the paved sidewalk greeted one another and stopped to chat.

Millicent cleared her throat. "Are we expected at your house in Somerset, or will it be a surprise visit?"

"We're expected. To my knowledge, it's been some time since either of the last two Earls of Cavendish visited there. I'm sure there's work they postponed. And anyway," Lucien said, "I'd prefer sleeping in a room that's been properly aired out."

The road they were on curved around a large grassy circle at the top of the hill and continued on toward their destination. The pale buildings facing the street had a curved, uniform façade that cupped around the small park as though holding it in a great stone hand. Their smoking chimneys thrust skyward at neat and orderly intervals.

Tempy was disappointed when they left the circle behind them. "That was such a lovely area," she commented.

"If you like that, just wait until you see the area they call the Royal Crescent," Millicent said.

"It's not much farther," Lucien added.

They continued down a street lined with identical townhouses until they came upon an enormous open common.

"This is it," Millicent said. "The Royal Crescent. I like to think of it as the crown jewel of Bath. What do you think?"

The road curved around a large, crescent-shaped grassy area that descended toward a stand of trees, and along the right side of the road rose a curved building. At least, Tempy
thought
it was a single building until she realized that it was made up of individual homes, all with nearly identical facades. Only the precise shade of the golden limestone varied from one home to the next.

Tempy turned to face the large common. "What a spectacular view. I can see all the way down the hillside to the river. Can you imagine waking up each morning to such a sight?"

"I'm trying to," Lucien said in an enigmatic tone.

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of one of the entrances, and Lucien leaned forward to release the catch on the carriage door.

Tempy looked at his back with surprise as he exited the carriage. "We're getting out?"

"Yes," he said patiently. "Unless you want to take a tour of Bath right now. I thought you'd prefer to be shown to your room."