Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year. Кэрол Мортимер

to kill him.’

      ‘Thomas will take your letter later, but first we must go, before anyone realises what we mean to do.’

      ‘Yes.’ Madeline stood up. She caught up her cloak, which was lying on a chair where she’d abandoned it earlier, then went to her dressing chest and took out a small box containing the jewels she wore every day. Lethbridge kept the valuable things in his strongbox and gave her what he wished her to wear when he dictated, but she would take the jewels that she had brought with her to the marriage and the few gold coins she had in her reticule. She looked about her chamber, praying that she need never see it again. ‘Let us go now, before my husband returns.’

      * * *

      ‘Where is she?’ Lethbridge thundered at the luckless servant that brought him the news. Arriving home late in the afternoon, he’d gone to his room to change for the evening and then sent a servant to tell Madeline to make ready. ‘By God, if you’ve allowed her to leave, I’ll have you beaten to an inch of your life!’

      ‘I don’t know where she is,’ the servant said, cringing as his master struck him a blow on the shoulder with his ivory cane. ‘Sally and Thomas must have spirited her away by the back stairs for no one has seen them for hours either.’

      ‘Damnation!’ Lethbridge glared at him, a vein bulging in his neck. ‘If I discover any of you turned a blind eye, I’ll make you sorr—’ He broke off as the door to the salon opened and his butler announced the arrival of the Marquis of Rochdale. ‘Get out, dog,’ he hissed at the servant, then turned and smiled at his guest, as the footman shot from the room like a scared rabbit. ‘Ah, Rochdale, my dear fellow. I am glad you could come this evening. I’m sorry to have to tell you that Lady Lethbridge is indisposed. I fear she will not be joining us this evening.’

      ‘Indeed? How very disappointing,’ the marquis said and his lips curled in a sneer. ‘Since the lady is ill I shall not waste your time or mine. I shall be plain with you—unless you give me what you promised, I shall call in my notes. You know what I want, Lethbridge. You implied it would be mine this evening. If you renege on your bargain, I shall ruin you for good in society.’

      ‘No, no, you shall have her another time,’ Lethbridge said. ‘You know how much I want what you have.’

      ‘You have three days to bring her to heel,’ the marquis said. ‘I shall not stay. Perhaps another time?’

      Lethbridge cursed as the marquis walked out, leaving him staring after him. Damn the woman! He would make her father pay. That would bring her to her senses. He strode up the stairs and into his bedchamber, pulling out the drawer where her father’s notes were kept. Taking out the leather folder, he stared to see it empty and then, realising what must have happened, swore furiously.

      She had stolen them! Madeline had outwitted him by taking the notes and then running off with her lover. He had not thought she had the courage to do it or he would have stored them more securely. His own carelessness was to blame, but he did not consider that—only her perfidy in taking them behind his back.

      If he could not find her and get her back, he was ruined.

      Fury whipped through him. He would find her and kill them both—but before she died, she should suffer agony. His plans for the evening were in ruins and the chance to recoup his notes was lost to him, for if the marquis knew she’d gone to a lover he would waste no more time in claiming his dues. Slamming out of his room, he went down the stairs and out of the house. He must find entertainment elsewhere that night. He would go to his club and see if he could find a plump pigeon to fleece.

      Madeline would not be allowed to escape him. She had few jewels and little money for he kept her on a tight string. She could not go far. He would find her—and when he did, he would give her to Rochdale to do with as he pleased, if he would still take her. The man was depraved, far worse than Lethbridge knew how to be—but if he humbled the proud beauty it would serve her right, and he would recover his losses at the card table.

      He must find his wife, he would find her! He would fetch her back—and this time she would do what she was told.

      * * *

      Hallam was seated with a party of gentlemen when Lethbridge walked into the card room at Lord Sawford’s London house. He had been finding it hard to keep his mind on his cards for most of the evening, because all he could think of was Madeline. She’d sent him such a strange note, begging him to meet her in the park. He’d gone to their meeting place and waited, but she had not come. Why had she not kept the appointment she’d made? Ought he to have gone to her house and asked for her? Yet she had begged him not to do so and he’d feared she might suffer if he had.

      Seeing the count entering the room, Hallam was instantly alerted. Something was wrong.

      Why was Lethbridge here when he was supposed to be dining with the Marquis of Rochdale that night? Frowning, he watched as Lethbridge wove his way through the room, stopping to talk to various gentlemen before arriving at Hallam’s table.

      ‘Thought you were entertaining at home this evening?’ one of the gentlemen seated at Hallam’s table offered.

      ‘My guest had another appointment he was forced to keep,’ Lethbridge said, but the look in his eyes was furious, as if he could barely keep his anger inside. ‘May I join you, gentlemen?’

      Hallam glanced at Mainwaring. He sat up, suddenly all attention as there was a polite murmur of acceptance and Lethbridge drew out a chair and sat down. He would have preferred to leave the table and take his place behind the count so that he might see what was going on while his friend played, but Lethbridge’s request left him no choice but to play on.

      He actually had winning cards that hand and took the pot of five hundred guineas. Since he’d won it was his turn to deal, which he did with a new pack. It was brought to the table and broken open by the waiter, as was the custom when a new game began.

      Hallam realised that he must be alert at all times. The cards were clean now but, if Lethbridge played as usual, by the third hand after he joined the table they would be marked.

      Lethbridge ordered a bottle of wine and glasses were filled, but Hallam noticed that the count merely sipped his. He did the same, watching as the first hand played out. Mainwaring won easily, and another gentleman won the second, but Lethbridge took the third and the fourth.

      ‘What do you say to raising the stakes?’ he asked pleasantly.

      Hallam hesitated. He would not normally play so deep, but he had won a large pot and could afford to lose a hand or two even at the higher stake of fifty guineas a hand—and it was the best way to discover what Lethbridge was doing.

      He went down heavily the next two games and then, having discovered which cards were marked, watched Lethbridge’s hand reach beneath the table. When the count began to deal again, he stood up.

      ‘I do not play with cheats,’ he said. His announcement sent shockwaves through the company and all eyes turned on him. ‘I am speaking of Lethbridge. I know that you have marked the cards, sir.’

      ‘How dare you!’ Lethbridge was on his feet, a vein bulging at his temple. ‘You will answer to me for that.’

      ‘Here is your answer, sir.’ Hallam handed three of his cards to the other gentlemen to examine. ‘The ace is pricked twice, the king once and the queen three times.’

      ‘And why have you decided that I am the culprit?’ Lethbridge demanded, glaring across the table at him. ‘It might as well have been you, sir.’

      ‘This is not the first time I’ve watched you cheat,’ Hallam said. ‘Mainwaring—would you mind looking at the edge of his coat cuff, just below the brocade? I believe you will discover that there is a pin stuck into the material.’

      ‘Certainly,’ Jack Mainwaring agreed and reached for Lethbridge’s arm. His hand was struck away angrily, but the movement caused a card to fall from beneath his ruffle. One of the other gentlemen reached over to pick up the jack of clubs, which, his fingers