Chapter 41 - MARK—THE TRUE BET

Chapter 41

MARK—THE TRUE BET

Like this was some odd farce being performed on Drury Lane, I trudged behind my father as we left the ballroom at Anya House.

As mad as I was at Prahmn, I could not help but feel used by Torrance. He’d erected the revenge Livingston had said that he wanted.

Unwittingly, I’d helped.

The three of us stepped outside.

Linkboys whirled torches.

Livingston stepped to the side. “I’ll have your carriage brought round.”

My friend still looked stunned, very pink-faced. He even wobbled. I wasn’t sure how much champagne he’d drunk; it was more than enough.

I wondered if he knew this evening’s events would lead to my father’s disgrace.

“Your mother,” Prahmn said, “she told me I was a fool to come tonight. She said there would be nothing to convince you to change course.”

“She’s right. The Marchioness of Prahmn would have prevented you from losing your temper in public. She’d keep your prejudice and foul dealings private. You don’t deserve her.”

He took an embroidered handkerchief from his pocket and swiped at his face. “This will be in the papers. My humiliation will hit all the gossip sheets. You must savor that.”

“Gossip is nothing to savor. The ton’s tittle-tattle about whose alleged sins are exposed is of no interest to me.”

Prahmn didn’t look at me. “You’re going to marry that one. You can expect no help from me. No recommendations—”

“Father, I hardly think anyone will want to be connected to your name anytime soon. No one likes to be exposed. And to see you be fooled by a prostitute . . . No, keep your sympathies.”

He fisted his hand. “I’m still right. You . . . She’s beneath you.”

“You are wrong, and at least she can say her hardworking father built a company, while mine was exposed as a lowlife by a prostitute.”

His carriage came around. I held the door as he slumped inside.

“Think long and hard, Prahmn. My mother deserves so much better. I hope she stays in the country for a long time. Go sit in her empty parlor, the one she consoles you in when your escapades end. Be alone with your prejudice and stupidity until even you are sick of yourself.”

I slammed the door and sent his driver away.

Livingston was in the shadows of the housed portico. “You said all those words. Good ones. Good job. You all right, Sebastian?”

“Oddly, I feel numb. Prahmn has never been warm, but it’s disturbing to see him brought low.”

“I guess it was good for your mother to be gone.”

I squinted at my friend, then realized this was the mothers’ network in action. “I suppose the dowager countess had an earful this afternoon.”

“Yes. It seems Prahmn’s new friend encouraged him to get rid of the marchioness and send her to the country. The prostitute wanted to enjoy the season from the Grosvenor house.”

That bit of foolishness saved my mother from sacrificing her peace and dignity to help my father recover.

The man responsible for this turn of events was in the hall showing Lydia Wilcox the new painting.

“Your Grace,” I said, “might we have a word?”

His smile widened. He suspected that I’d figured things out. Bending down to the little girl, he snapped his fingers and the maid assigned to her appeared. “Take my princess to her room for bed, but stop by the map room when she’s ready. The surprise is there.”

Lydia looked as if she would fuss about being sent upstairs, but the mention of a surprise made her clasp the maid’s hand and skip along to the stairs. “Love my duke.”

“Love my dorogaya.” The duke looked touched.

I had no such warm feelings. My dismay increased as I saw Georgie dancing with Mr. Carew.

Just because my father’s life had spun out of control was no need for my own to follow suit. I knew what I wanted, I just had to figure out how to convince Georgie.

We walked toward the duke’s study. With each step, I was further away from the future I wanted, but I needed to hear of Prahmn’s downfall and to secure a promise from the duke, that he’d never again tamper with life to gain revenge.

* * *

Closing the door to the study so that onlookers wouldn’t stumble inside, I waited for the duke and Livingston to pour glasses of brandy.

The sideboard was again cluttered with bottles. The duke filled a third glass and left it there. “You might need this, Sebastian.”

“I might, but I think I’m owed the truth more.”

Torrance took a sip, then sat on the edge of the desk. He lifted a green chess piece from a set I hadn’t seen before; the marble chessboard set at his hip. “Free yourself. Say what’s on your mind.”

“My friend Livingston, he told me of the difficulties that my father caused in your life.”

The duke put the pawn in front of the cornered king piece of the opposite color. “Checkmate. Talkative Livingston? I didn’t think you spoke of anything but research and your stance against marriage.”

The earl took a big swig from his glass. “Don’t want to exactly be on your bad side, Your Grace, but when we met—”

“Met years ago in Brooks’s. I’d had a miserable day at a hearing. My rights were again unnecessarily delayed. I was particularly angry because time can’t be restored. I missed my sister’s final days. The money for doctors that might’ve extended her life was denied. Lord Prahmn was the chief instigator. The heathen used everything—my faith, lineage, everything—to force narrow-minded men to delay seeing a marriage and birth records for what they were, accurate documents making me the sole heir to my father’s estate.”

Livingston finished his glass and poured another. His hands shook, clanking his goblet against the myriad of blue and green bottles. “So you plotted tonight?”

“Did I expect Prahmn to be taken in by a common prostitute? No. Did I expect that he’d like an enticing woman of loose morals with the appearance of being a widow wanting to be lavished by a man with no scruples or fidelity? Yes. Can a woman trying to advance in the world of fleshly pursuits take a bribe to ensure a fool’s downfall? Yes. Will she fake an accent and learn a few choice Russian words so Prahmn would know this came from me? Da. Da. Da.”

“And how did Miss Wilcox and I fit into this scheme?”

“You didn’t, but I may have tested a reaction. Our drive in Hyde Park proved to me that Prahmn was still the biggest heathen and hypocrite. He’d be angry at his son’s legitimate courtship of a Blackamoor woman while he took more and more risks to be with his new friend.”

“Tell us about tonight.” Livingston looked as if this was an experiment and not my life. “How did you know Prahmn would expose himself?”

The duke chuckled softly. “I didn’t, but my mother has always told me that human nature always wins. So a fool will make himself a bigger one. Seeing you and Miss Wilcox actually in love, not in lust, would disturb a man who doesn’t know the difference.”

“Put enough kerosene or whale oil around matches and something will explode.” I saw no flaws in his logic. I breathed easier, knowing that both I and Georgina weren’t pawns. “Thank you for making sure my mother was away.”

He nodded. “She’s innocent of everything but trying to have peace in her home. I understand that. Mr. Steele advised Chancey to have her packed in case Prahmn’s new mistress wanted her away. And the chance to flounce about Mayfair was a nice inducement for his new friend. The prostitute was handsomely bribed to ask, and the lustful fool drove the marchioness away.”

I imagined that what Prahmn would require of my mother to achieve his public redemption would be incredibly shameful for her—to parade with him to church, to promenade in Hyde Park, to attend all the remaining balls of the season with him, helping to reclaim his dignity. Yet, I knew, as did she, he wouldn’t change. He’d fall back to his indecent behavior as soon as he thought London had forgiven him. “I hope my mother stays away for years. I take comfort that she’s not here feeling obligated to help Prahmn.”

“I have a soft spot for mothers and for all women forced into uncomfortable situations.”

“And apparently prostitutes who are willing to learn Russian.” Livingston stood. “I suppose we should return to the ball. Three daring bachelors awaiting tonight’s pleasures.”

“I think I need to take a long moment before returning.”

“No, Sebastian.” The duke stood up. “You will have your head high. You must accompany Miss Wilcox on the pianoforte, perform, and then the two of you can determine what you do next.”

It sounded as if I had the duke’s blessings.

Not that I needed them. My heart had already determined that Georgie was the one.

“No, no, no. I know that look, Sebastian. Marriage is a mockery. You saw a prime example of that tonight.”

“Livingston, he saw an example of a fool getting his comeuppance. Leave Sebastian alone.”

“No,” the earl said, drinking more of his third brandy. “You don’t want to be married. You’re too young. You’ll ruin your whole life, marrying in your prime. Tell him, Your Grace.”

“I’m alone, not by choice.” The duke set his goblet down and folded his arms. “If he’s found love, he needs to seize it.”

“Oh, you daffy Russian man. We have to protect Sebastian from an institution that will eat his soul.”

“Bitter much, Livingston? You silly man from Suffolk.”

“I’m from Kent.”

“Gentlemen.” The two ignored me and began to fuss more. I went to the sideboard. As I picked up the filled glass, Livingston’s animated motions knocked over jars. A blue one emptied its contents onto my fingers.

Then I couldn’t feel them. Or anything.

I flexed my fingers, even flung them. “What is this? I’m numb.”

The duke shot up and came to the sideboard. He took a pitcher of water and dunked my hands in it.

“That’s for pain, bone-aching pain. You better sit down, Sebastian. You’re going to feel—”

“Light-headed?”

“Could be. Could be more than that.”

Livingston grabbed my wrist and felt for a pulse. “Torrance, what’s in the witch’s brew? What are all these things?”

“Tonics. Some help you sleep. Looks like Sebastian might want to take a nap.”

As he said this, my chest began to feel like ice. It became hard to breathe. “Torrance, is this poison?”

“Just a little pain medicine. It’ll wear off in four hours or more. You’ll be fine. Perfectly fine tomorrow.”

“But I have to play for Miss Wilcox tonight.” My head began to spin, and I found a chair before I fell.

The duke, both of his heads, looked very concerned. “Mr. Carew is here. He may know what to do.”

“No. He’ll marry Georgie. If he hears my angel sing, he will marry her. Everyone will marry her. Remember, that was the plan.”

I swung my arms like I swam in mud. “Send the earl away too. He might marry her.”

Livingston stepped back. “I know exactly what to do.”

My chest felt looser. My friend understood. “Bring her to me. My Georgie. I’ll explain.”

The earl was half out the door. “I’m going to tell her you’re too embarrassed to show your face and that she needs to perform alone.”

“Wait. No, Livingston. That’s the opposite of what I want.”

“Look. Your father is humiliated right now, but that doesn’t change that you are virtually penniless. Prahmn will still make your life terrible. You can’t afford a wife. Miss Georgina Wilcox deserves stability and love. I’m going to save you both.”

My misguided friend was out the door.

I turned back to the duke, and both his mustaches. “Help me.”

“Well, if Miss Georgina doesn’t perform, she won’t garner much more attention. Prahmn stole everyone’s eyes. He will very much be the gossip of my ball. You still have another chance to tell her the truth, that you are ready to fight the wind for her.” He went to the door. “Steele, stop Livingston. Get Carew, bring him here.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” A blurry image by the three doors disappeared.

Swatting my hands against my breeches like I was beating up a cyclone made no difference.

What if I could no longer play?

How would I support us? “Fix this.”

“It will wear off by tomorrow. Pretty sure.” He picked up the empty blue vial. “Rest, and then go tell the woman you love your heart. That even without music, you’re determined to find a way to make things work. Not everyone is brave enough to make that promise.”

Not knowing what to say, I staggered to my feet. “Let’s stop Livingston. And then let her know I didn’t do this on purpose.”

Torrance dipped his fingers in a little bit of the spill and rubbed it across his palm. “Just joining you for moral support.”

The duke grimaced, steadied me, then went to the door. “Let’s go to the garden. Walk you around in the fresh air. Steele will stop Livingston. Then you and Miss Wilcox will talk.”

I hoped Georgina would understand not performing. I’d never let her go up against the ton alone. I prayed she’d forgive me for everything and listen once more to my rambles of loving her.