Regency Reputation: A Reputation for Notoriety / A Marriage of Notoriety. Diane Gaston

squeezed her hand.

      After he released her and closed the coach door, Celia could still feel the pressure of his fingers.

Chapter Four

      Ned waited until almost noon for his father to rise and make his appearance in the breakfast room. He’d tried to confront his father on this issue before and knew he must catch him before he went out or he’d lose another day.

      Hugh had waited with Ned most of the morning, but stormed out a few minutes ago, swearing about their father’s decadent habits.

      Not more than a minute later Ned heard his father’s distinct footsteps approaching.

      Wasn’t it always the way? When Ned needed Hugh, his brother disappeared.

      The earl entered the room, but paused for a moment, spying his oldest son there.

      He gave Ned an annoyed look. ‘I thought to have breakfast in peace.’

      Ned stood. ‘Good morning to you as well, Father.’

      His father walked straight to the sideboard and filled his plate with food that had already been replaced three times. The earl detested cold eggs. ‘Do you not have something of use to do? Itemising my bills? Recording my debt in a ledger?’

      Ned bristled at his father’s sarcastic tone. ‘You ought to be grateful to me and to Hugh.’

      His father sat down at the head of the table. A footman appeared to pour his tea. Ned signalled for the footman to leave.

      His father waited until the door closed behind the man. ‘I am anything but grateful that you treat me as a doddering fool. Makes me look bad in front of the servants.’

      Ned sat adjacent to his father. ‘You were the one to speak of bills and debts in front of Higgley.’

      His father glared at him and stuffed his mouth full of ham.

      Ned went on. ‘But I do need to speak to you.’

      His father rolled his eyes.

      Ned did not waver. ‘It has been a month since Rhysdale opened the gaming house and you have yet to fulfil your part of the bargain.’

      ‘You truly do not expect me to speak to that fellow, do you?’ He popped a cooked egg into his mouth.

      ‘Speak to him?’ Ned felt his face grow hot. ‘You gave your word as a gentleman to do more than that. We need to include him socially. You need to acknowledge he is your son.’

      His father waved a hand. ‘I already did my part. I sent him to school. What more can he want?’

      Ned gritted his teeth. ‘You agreed to this, Father. Rhysdale has already amassed the amount we invested to get the place started. But he will not release the money until you do what you are honour-bound to do.’

      ‘Honour?’ His father’s voice rose. ‘Do you call it honourable that he is holding my money? It is more like extortion, I’d say.’

      ‘I’d say it is more like sound business,’ Ned countered. ‘Rhysdale is no fool. The money is his leverage. You must do as he says.’

      ‘I do not have to do anything I do not wish to do.’

      Good God. The man sounded like a petulant schoolboy.

      Ned would not put up with it. ‘Father. You must do this. We are running out of time. No one will advance you more credit. The fields need tending. The livestock need feed. Our tenants need to eat—’

      At that moment Hugh entered the room. ‘Your voice is carrying, Ned.’

      So much for keeping this private from the servants—not that one could keep anything secret from servants for long.

      ‘Where were you?’ he asked Hugh.

      Hugh looked apologetic. ‘I was going mad waiting for Father. I just took a quick walk outside.’

      He sat across from Ned and poured a cup of tea.

      ‘Father is reneging on his word.’ Ned inclined his head towards their father.

      Hugh took a sip. ‘I presumed.’ He slid his father a scathing look. ‘Your bastard son has more honour than you, you know. He’s kept his part of the bargain.’

      Their father straightened in his seat. ‘I’ll brook no disrespect from you, you ungrateful cub.’

      Hugh faced the earl directly, his face red with anger. ‘Then be a man I can respect, sir! Do what you agreed to do. Introduce Rhys to society as your son. You gave your word.’

      ‘Only to the two of you,’ their father prevaricated. ‘I never gave my word to him.’

      Ned lowered his voice. ‘Your word given to your sons means nothing, then?’

      Hugh rose from his chair. ‘Let him go, Ned! He is not thinking of us. Nor of the Westleigh estates. Nor the Westleigh people. Let him watch his creditors come ransack the house, carrying away our heritage and that of our own sons. He cares nothing for nobody. Only for himself.’

      ‘See here, you cur!’ the earl cried, jumping to his feet.

      Ned stood and extended his arms, gesturing for them both to sit down. He had one more card to play. ‘Let us bring Mother into this conversation.’

      ‘You’ll do no such thing!’ his father cried.

      ‘Ned’s right.’ Hugh seized on this idea immediately. ‘Mother needs to know what a sorry excuse for a gentleman you’ve become.’

      Ned suspected their mother already knew what a sorry creature her husband was. But she probably did not know the extent of his debt and the dire consequences that were imminent unless they could begin paying the creditors. This information would certainly shock her.

      She, of course, knew of Rhys’s existence and Ned did feel sorry that she must endure the humiliation of having him welcomed into the family.

      ‘Very well,’ the earl snapped. ‘I’ll go the gaming hell and make nice to Rhysdale. I’ll do that much.’

      ‘You’ll have to do more,’ Ned warned him.

      The earl nodded. ‘Yes. Yes.’ His tone turned resigned. ‘But first I want to see this place and ascertain for myself whether he is swindling us or not.’

      ‘He is not swindling us!’ Hugh said hotly.

      Their father ignored him. ‘If all is as it should be, then we may plan how to divulge the rest to your mother.’

      Rhys wandered through the tables of the gaming house, watching the gamblers, perusing the croupiers at their work. He wished he had more eyes, more people he could trust to check on the tables. To make certain the croupiers stayed honest and the gamblers refrained from cheating. With so much money changing hands every night, it was a rare man or woman who would not at some time or another become tempted.

      Cheating was the great danger of a gaming house. Gentlemen could accept losing huge amounts in honest games, but the whiff of a dishonest house might swiftly destroy everything.

      He also had to admit to watching for the masked woman to arrive. She’d been attending almost every night. Whenever she came, Rhys contrived to spend a few minutes alone with her.

      The mystery of her sometimes filled his thoughts.

      Where had she come from? Who was she? Why had she chosen gambling to make money?

      She had a life outside the gaming hell, a life she wished to protect, that much he understood. Was she married and hiding her gambling from her husband? He hoped not. Married women held no appeal for him.

      He’d had some opportunity to attend the Royal Opera