Chapter 29 - GEORGINA—A WAGER FOR MY LIFE

The Thames, in the afternoon, was a cluttered sight. Barges taking people and goods from shore to shore competed with ships darting down the river to head out to sea.

The noise of it sounded like life, busy and full. Yet Mark and I, both full of life and no sickness, were quiet as squirrels scurrying along the banks.

“Umm, you look well, Miss Wilcox . . . Georgina.”

With a nod, I pointed him to the spot between the tavern and the lumberyard. “You can have a better view here. It might inspire you.”

“Georgina, you never worry about being here amongst the industry?”

“I grew up on Ground Street. Everyone knows everyone else. Nothing but good honest people live and work here.”

“Oh, I see.”

“I wish you did, Lord Mark. There are a lot of misconceptions about this side of the river.”

He stopped, gently tugging on my arm until I moved my hand from my pocket to his palm. “Can I say I’m sorry? Can I say I’ve missed you?”

“You can say all of that. Whether you mean it or not, that’s up to you to decide.”

“No, it’s you who must change my circumstances. I offended you. I only showed my desire for you. I had no plan to truly offer about how we’d live, how I’d earn a living. I was not being fair. I took many things for granted.”

He looked contrite. The way he held my hand, so softly with his thumb rubbing against mine, I knew everything. That he truly wanted my forgiveness, and me.

“You are forgiven. Anyone can be overcome in the moment. My biscuits are quite delicious.”

“But I still haven’t had one.” He laughed, and I did too. Then we walked a little deeper between the properties to get to the shore.

“It looks the same here. I don’t think the sides matter.” He took a long breath of the sulphury air. “The duke’s ball is coming up. I want to show you favor. I want everybody to see that you have my attention. I don’t want to fake break apart. I want to ask for your hand, properly.”

I squinted at him, trying to figure out how to tell him I hadn’t changed my mind. “How does my not begging off dispel the rumors about us, about that kiss? You had to have seen Gilroy’s latest horrible cartoon.”

“I did, but it’s a reprint of one of his earlier horrible pieces. There have been rumors about us, couples of different races, always. The politics that are happening make those against such unions crazed. We can’t let them stop us.”

“I don’t want to be an example for the world. My sister suffered because of her husband. All of us have. I can’t.”

“If you didn’t love me, then I’d understand. But I think you do. We’re not playing anymore. Or at least, I’m not playing anymore. I want—”

I put a finger to his lips. I didn’t need for him to say that he wanted me to be his wife or that we’d have a happily-ever-after or that we could build a family and a life together. “Here are my conditions to consider. You tell me if they’ve been met.”

“Conditions, Georgie? This is a negotiation?”

“Conditions.” I started to walk back to the office.

“Wait. Tell me what they are.”

Folding my arms about me, I said, “Have you informed your parents?”

“My mother knows. Prahmn is on holiday.”

“Do you have their blessing?”

“My mother’s.”

“Do you have their assurances that your powerful father will not use his influence against us or my family?”

His handsome face looked down to the river. The Thames had no answers, not for this.

“Have you finished your sonata? Have you entered that great competition?”

“No. But I’m so close, closer than I’ve ever been. The committee will love it. You will love it.”

“Close is not good enough. You need to finish. You need to be established. You need to be so advanced that if Prahmn changed his mind, he couldn’t hurt you.”

“My father wouldn’t hurt me. The gossip of his cruelty would hurt him. He’ll not do anything to open the Sebastians to scandal.”

These answers offered no comfort. “Have you ever finished a sonata?”

“Yes, but always after the deadline. Then I play in public at one of my mother’s parties or Prahmn’s Winter Ball.”

“Then use one of those. They must be good if you intended it for the Harlbert’s Prize.”

“They’ve been played in public. That disqualifies any work I’ve already written. Why are you so resistant to this notion of us being committed? I think we can find a way to be happy.”

“It won’t work. I don’t want to be made the villain because you didn’t get the things that you want.”

“Then I know what I must do.”

“We can remain friends?”

“No. I must finish the sonata by the time of the duke’s ball. You shall see me submit it. Then, Georgie, you need to be prepared to be public about our engagement.”

“At the duke’s ball, we are supposed to end this false relationship. I’m supposed to let you go because of new interests.”

“We can do that. We can even do it publicly. But the very next day, I will cross the river and be on the street where you live, asking to start anew.”

Mark claimed my hand again and led me down Ground Street. He seemed cheered, while I was less assured.

At least I listened to him, and I think he heard me. If he couldn’t finish the sonata by the duke’s ball, Mark would walk away from us. I wouldn’t have to be the villain.

* * *

When we returned to the office of Wilcox Coal, I heard a lot of shouting—angry Russian, frustrated, feminine English.

When I opened the door, I saw the duke seated on top of Papa’s desk and my sister walking back and forth in front of him, listing numerous faults that I didn’t think were his.

Had Katherine mixed up Tavis and the duke?

Mark coughed, trying to get their attention.

The duke acknowledged us with a glance, but then he went back to antagonizing my sister. “Look, here come witnesses to hear for themselves how you put pride over everything.”

“You egotistical fool. I don’t need you. None of us need you.”

“That’s why the Wilcoxes, a once proud Blackamoor family, are crumbling. It’s clear, Lady Hampton, that you’ll not do what’s in the best interest of yourself or your sisters, particularly the sweet child Lydia. I’ve made a promise to her, as solemnly as I would to Anya. It’s why I’ve acquired all of Lord Hampton’s debts. Everything that would take away Wilcox Coal or your house on Ground Street is now under my control.”

Katherine sputtered, her face grew darker and fiery. “No one asked you to do this. You’re always overstepping your bounds.”

“What am I to do, Katherine? Am I to let you starve in the streets while I dine well in Mayfair? Am I to let your father’s legacy come to nothing because of the fool you married? Nyet, that’s your job to destroy everything.”

She turned away. Her eyes were glassy.

The duke wasn’t wrong about Tavis and the damage to our family, but he wasn’t right in making it Katherine’s fault. I stepped forward, holding my breath to enter the fray. “The only reason she married Lord Hampton was to restore her honor and to use his connections to help Wilcox Coal.”

Katherine’s countenance faltered. “Georgina, go. Lord Mark, take her home. I can finish this and get rid of His Grace.”

“Yes, get rid of those who help, and hold on to the memory of the fool who put you in a position of weakness.”

“Don’t call him that. Have some respect. Lord Hampton was there for me when I needed someone. His friendship never abandoned me. No one else can claim that.”

For the first time since Mark and I entered, the duke glanced down, seemingly unsure, even sorrowful. He fingered the highest carving on his cane, the head of a lion. “Tavis always had good timing, not good luck or good judgment, though.”

This made Katherine gasp. “Are you saying I wasn’t worthy to marry?”

He raised his gaze, gawking as if that was the stupidest statement ever uttered. “Tavis knew how to find me. He should’ve sent for me. I would’ve come back for you.”

“The world doesn’t work on your schedule, Jahleel.”

“Is there a reason why you couldn’t wait for me to return? Tell me a reason, a truthful reason. I need to hear it from you.”

My sister swiped at her eyes, like she wasn’t minutes from sobbing. “I couldn’t wait to marry Tavis. He loved me. He was there when I needed to be supported, not abandoned for Mayfair.”

“Tell me, Katherine. Look at me and tell me why, when you had my support, my love. Why couldn’t you wait?”

The room felt like Hades. The gaze between them was so intense that the walls of Wilcox Coal should be on fire. Then it hit me in my gut—every moment, every stolen glance that danced between them, was their past love, all the ruining secrets of my sister’s grand adventure.

“Jahleel, you know nothing about love or commitment. You left. You took your path. I chose mine. Nothing else.” She looked at me. “Nothing can be changed. It is done. Over.”

“Torrance.” Mark pointed to the door. “Let’s leave. When a lady demands we go, we must.”

The fierce lift of the duke’s chin, the flicking of his hand dismissed Mark like he was a child or a servant. “I need an answer. I must hear if I have misjudged Katherine. I need a reason for all of the pain.”

Mark backed up and whispered to me, “Perhaps you and I should leave and let them finish this. They need to finish this.”

“You were right the first time, Lord Mark. Take the duke and go.”

“Kitty, calm down. Think of what we discussed. Save us from our present troubles, not win an old fight from the past.”

“Miss Wilcox, you are right. Sebastian too.” The duke rubbed his palm against his weathered cane. “This needs to be finished right now in a language that Tavis taught his wife: a bet.”

Katherine dug in our father’s desk and found a handkerchief. “I thought you didn’t bet anymore. Another lie?”

“Oh, Katherine, how droll. I gave up gambling for Lent six years ago. Today, it’s warranted. A simple bet. Winner takes all.”

Mark tugged my sleeve and edged closer to the door.

Even though this was grown fools’ business, business Tavis had set in place, I couldn’t leave Katherine. “Please stop this, both of you.”

“Georgina, stay,” Katherine said. “For a bet to be honored, it must have a witness.”

“You hate gambling, sister. This is crazy. Never bet more than we can afford. The duke can buy everything.”

“I need him to know I can’t be bought. My opinion of him will never change. Jahleel, show everyone your true colors.”

“Never make a wager when you’re angry,” I said. “You two are matches and kerosene.”

“What about Wilcox Coal? That would be a better . . .” Mark bit his lip. “Shutting up now.”

I left him and stood close enough to touch my sister, to let her collapse against me and let out that sob she’d stubbornly refused to shed. “Kitty, no. This is ridiculous. Your Grace, I beg you to forgive my sister and I pray that you be on your way.”

Katherine turned to me and shook her head. “Not this time. He’s proposed a wager that will rid him from my life. I’ll take it.”

“And there you have it, Miss Wilcox. My dear Katherine is entering the betting stage, slipping into the sickness that dragged Tavis down. A better man would save her from herself. I’m not a better man. I’m a determined one.”

“Miracle. He admits to not being a god.”

He scoffed, said something in Russian that added more red to her bronze face. “If she wins, all the debt instruments I’ve paid in full will be given to the Wilcoxes. All these bills will be liquidated. You will owe nothing. Your house and Wilcox Coal will be unencumbered.”

Mark drew my way. His blue eyes widened and he whispered, “The bet will crush her.”

No. The duke was a good person. “What is it you get if you win?” I covered my mouth, but I had to know if anger had turned my kind friend into the devil.

“Not much, Miss Wilcox . . . Katherine, my dear Lady Hampton, will marry me. And you and all your sisters, especially Lydia, will be wards under my protection at Anya House.”

“Torrance, you’re betting for a wife and family.” Mark bit his lip, but his laughter wouldn’t stop. “You want to wed a woman who hates you, to have a full house. Have more science meetings, man. Don’t subject yourself to torture. We should’ve brought Livingston. He’d set you straight.”

For someone who’d just tried to convince me to marry him, this was the wrong thing to say. “My sister isn’t a torture.”

“I can speak for myself, Georgina.” Katherine took a long cleansing breath. “I am fully capable of telling these two to go to the devil.”

“The d’yavol can take his due now,” the duke said. “I can simply force bankruptcy of your business and foreclose on the house. Is that what you want, Katherine? That’s what others were plotting to do. The bank, the creditors have been smiling in your face and laughing at Gilroy’s cartoons.”

She gritted her teeth at him but didn’t answer.

He shrugged, slipped around her and sat in Papa’s chair. “This is comfortable. Sebastian, remind me when I sell off the assets to keep this chair. It will go in my bedchamber.”

Mark was speechless and useless.

I shook Katherine. “End this. Apologize. Don’t let him take what’s left of Papa’s legacy or you might as well have let Tavis destroy us.”

“My fault.” Her breathing became rough. “I need this bet. Give me the rest of the terms.”

“While Miss Wilcox and Sebastian were away, you berated me about not knowing your sisters or you. That’s what you claimed. I think I do. I know I do. The bankers don’t want you to use the sale of Wilcox Coal for dowries. That’s what you told them. You’ve obviously thought you could find them husbands.”

“The bankers . . . did you send them?”

“No. But I’ve made it my business to know yours. I will give your sisters dowries and find each of them a good and proper husband. I can do this for Georgina and Scarlett before you can.”

“That’s a stupid bet,” she said, and I agreed.

“Stupid maybe, but I should do something to honor Tavis. This bet will break no one’s back.”

“Katherine, apologize. No betting. This is crazy.” I grabbed her hands like she’d fallen down a dark well.

Yet, the way her black eyes raged, I didn’t think there was any turning back or finding the light.

“Jahleel, I don’t want to marry. Not you or anyone. But I’ll be your mistress for a season.”

“Mistress? Not a wife. A true mistress? Are you serious, Katherine? What about scandal? What about Mama?”

“I’m a widow. Society doesn’t notice us much. Many peers make mistresses of us, and no one cares.” She stood up tall, like she awaited punishment. “Avoiding scandal, trying to do what’s best is why we are in this horrid position. Yes. A mistress, sharing a bed. Pretending to care, making you more crazed for the memory of a girl you once loved . . . Yes, Jahleel, but only for a season.”

He rubbed his chin. “I counted on a lifetime. My lifetime. If you and the girls spend two nights a week at Anya House starting now until the next season ends, yes.”

That would be a year of shuffling across the river. A year and three months if he won.

The duke stuck out his hand.

Katherine almost took it but stopped. “Lord Mark doesn’t count. Their playacting relationship ends, no more between them. So, he doesn’t count in this bet.”

“That would mean you’re asking the duke to find me someone else, someone not Lord Mark.” My stomach hurt. I didn’t want to marry, but I truly didn’t want to marry someone who wasn’t Mark.

“Yes, but you told me yourself you’re not ready to marry. So, Lord Mark Sebastian is not the one. The duke will have to find you someone else. Or, he can give up now and say I won.”

“Nyet! Never. Sebastian counts on neither side.” He rose from the chair and clasped her hand and shook it, then kissed it. “It will be a pleasure to have a proper mistress again.”

Katherine took her hand from him and slapped him, but he caught her hand and held it to his face. “Gentle. Gentle. I like my women to be easy.”

He released her and moved to the door. “Let me know which days. The games begin this week. Lady Hampton, prepare to win.”

“Torrance, don’t you mean you want her to lose?” Mark followed him. “I mean, I want you to lose and not find Miss Wilcox a mate.”

“For Lady Hampton to truly win is to gain the security and joy that comes with my protection, whether that be for a season or forever will be up to the betting gods. Come along, Sebastian. Let’s let the ladies lock up my coal company.”

“It’s not yours, Jahleel.” Katherine sneered at him like she wanted to slap him again.

His light olive skin still bore a red print along his jaw.

“It’s still ours,” I said. “It’s still Wilcox Coal.”

“And I know my sisters!” Katherine’s voice was loud. “You won’t find them a match.”

“Do svidaniya, ladies.”

The two left, and I turned to Katherine. Her emotions were so volatile, she shook. She wept.

I embraced her. Rocking her in my arms, I whispered, “What have you done?”