The Devil and the Viscount, page 11
“Oh, Papa would cover it easily. He has not been in London for years, and it is a treat for him. It will be tomorrow night, though. Do we have any commitments?”
“Only the theatre, which hardly matters. But, my dear, the pleasure garden is hardly fashionable…”
“But it will be fun,” Gina coaxed. “And do you know, I think Fitz might enjoy it, too, so we could ask him to escort us.”
“It doesn’t really seem like Godfrey’s cup of tea,” his aunt said. “But, yes, we can ask him. I’ll write him a note when we come back.”
The princess’s Venetian breakfast was a combination of al fresco and luncheon. Tables and chairs had been set up under an awning in the surprisingly large back garden, while blankets had been spread on the ground for the younger, more casual guests. Several faces were familiar to Gina, including Lord Calton, Lord and Lady Dominic Gorse, and Mrs. and Miss Dove. To Gina’s relief, Lord Longton was not among the guests. To her disappointment, neither was Rollo.
The princess welcomed them as though genuinely pleased to see them, and offered them the tastiest morsels before turning to greet other guests. Gina, leaving Mrs. Fitzwilliam comfortably settled with her friends, took her plate and joined Catherine Dove and some of the younger people on a blanket.
After a while, as her companions changed positions or went to find more food, Gina and Miss Dove were private enough to risk a delicate conversation.
“May I ask you a strange question?” Gina began. “Well, two strange questions, in strictest confidence?”
Catherine looked intrigued. “Please do.”
“May I please borrow your dog tomorrow evening?”
Catherine stared at her, a delightfully prepared smoked fish halfway to her lips. She lowered it to her plate. “If you imagine Pup is a guard dog, I have to warn you he is not reliable. He looks threatening, but he is as likely to make friends with whoever it is you want to frighten.”
“Oh, I don’t want him to frighten anyone. I just want him to be obvious, and he is the most obvious dog I ever encountered.”
Catherine ate her fish thoughtfully and swallowed. “You are up to something. May I join the adventure?”
“Sadly, no,” Gina said with genuine regret, for the whole plan might have been fun with a friend. But this was not an expedition of pleasure. “It is not quite…proper, and you should not be seen with me.”
Catherine looked even more curious but said only. “Pup is rarely away from us, and how would we get him to you?”
Gina had already thought of this. “Do you perhaps have a stable hand or a footman you can trust? To take Pup in a hackney and bring him home later on?”
“A hackney?” Catherine repeated, clearly startled. “Where are you taking him? I don’t want him to get lost!”
Gina hesitated, glancing around her again. “Maida Gardens. Well, the hotel there, Renwick’s. We are going to dine with my father there and spend the night before returning to town.”
Catherine frowned. “It’s most odd of you to want a huge, disruptive dog with you while you dine with your papa. And to be honest, we are not so rich in footmen or stable hands that one would not be missed, so I…” She trailed off, her frown vanishing. “Archie!”
Gina glanced over her shoulder, but there was no sign of Mr. Holles.
“If I asked him,” Catherine pursued, “Archie would bring Pup to Renwick’s for you and bring him home. And Pup will be happier in his company than with a servant.”
Gina hesitated. “I am reluctant to involve him.”
“Oh, he is the most discreet of men and totally honorable, I assure you.”
“I never doubted that, just how unkind it would be to him.”
“Now I am worried all over again! I believe, for your sake, I am making the loan of Pup dependent on Archie’s bringing him. For your sake.”
“Actually,” Gina said slowly, “it might fit very well if he truly does not mind.”
“I’ll ask him, but he never refuses me. What is your other question?”
“Something I doubt you’ll know, but I’m hoping you’ll be able to point me to someone who does.” Gina drew in a deep breath. “How and where would I find an actress willing to take discreet employment for one evening only?”
Catherine blinked several times. “Rollo Darblay.”
Gina blushed. “I can’t ask him this.”
“Because he wouldn’t let you do it?”
“I don’t know,” Gina said frankly, “but to involve him in this would not be…honorable.”
“Besides, it would be difficult to ask a gentleman to introduce you to any actresses of their acquaintance. He would be appalled and embarrassed and very unlikely to help.”
That many gentlemen had irregular relationships with actresses was not something Gina wished to dwell on, particularly where Rollo was concerned, but Catherine was gazing at their hostess.
“I have a better idea,” she said. “I suspect you could do a lot worse than speak to Princess Hagerin. She may appear a mere fashionable hostess, but she has a mysterious past, and I know that she has helped several friends of mine in tricky situations. She is a friend of both the Duke and Duchess of Dearham, and I suspect she knows everyone.”
“Thank you,” Gina said gratefully, for she regarded this as the most difficult part of her plan to put in place. “And for the loan of Pup and your Mr. Holles.”
While they made the arrangements, Gina kept a surreptitious watch on their hostess and chose her moment carefully. She waited until the princess was giving directions to servants, then rose and strolled toward her.
“What a lovely breakfast,” Gina said. “I’m so glad I didn’t eat before we came!”
Princess Hagerin looked faintly amused but behind the smile, her eyes were shrewd as ever and interested. She knew Gina had come to her for a reason. “The weather has been kind to us, too, though my cook insisted it would rain. Walk with me, Miss Wallace. You look like a lady with a confidence to make or break.”
“Well, I do have a problem I am trying to solve,” Gina admitted, turning to stroll with her hostess toward a little vegetable garden. “And I was wondering if you could help me with a rather difficult part of it.”
“Does this problem involve Lord Longton?”
Gina’s eyes flew to hers. “You are a friend of his lordship’s?” she managed, for that could be disastrous, particularly if the princess told him Gina was up to something.
“No,” Princess Hagerin said briefly. “Tell me how I might help you.”
“I need to hire an actress for an evening, and I have no way of being introduced to such a person.” She paused, wracking her brains for an un-insulting way of proceeding.
“To do what?” the princess asked as if this was a request she encountered every day from supposedly respectable young ladies.
“To pretend to win a great deal of money from me at cards. In company that might be considered questionable for a respectable, unmarried young lady.”
“Or a respectable, betrothed young lady,” the princess said. “Am I correct in imagining you do not wish to be betrothed?”
“Why would you think that?” Gina asked as lightly as she could manage.
“I saw you with him at Lady Rampton’s and at Mrs. Carrington’s ball. Over the years, I have learned to read the signs. If you will believe such melodrama, my life has often depended on reading them correctly.”
In which case, Gina devoutly hoped she had not read the signs when she was with Rollo. Or did she?
“Where do you want this actress to win money from you?” the princess asked.
“Renwick’s Hotel.”
“Maida Gardens.” The princess regarded her thoughtfully. “When?”
“Tomorrow evening. From about nine o’clock.”
The princess smiled. “Forget actresses. You will be much more discreet—and safe—losing lots of imaginary money to me. Tell me all.”
Chapter Eleven
At first, Fitz was deeply annoyed by his aunt’s assumption that he would trail out to Maida with her and Gina Wallace when he was supposed to be supporting James Black in a duel at dawn the following morning. But then, genius struck him, and he called round at Darblay House to discover Dom, Meade, and Montague already with the viscount.
“Had an idea,” he said. “Why don’t we go out to Renwick’s the night before the duel?”
“Why is that a good idea?” Rollo demanded. He was seated at his desk, surrounded by a sea of crumpled pieces of paper, as if he had tried and failed many times to write an important letter.
“Have a bit of fun,” Fitz said.
“Fun?” Dom stared at him. “He’s going to fight a duel. Getting jug-bitten the night before, even against a novice swordsman, is hardly sensible.”
“No, no, just meant a bit of dinner. And we’d all be in the right place with less trouble getting up early and trailing out to Maida.”
“Shouldn’t you be with Black?”
“We’ll take him with us the night before. Who knows? He might even see sense and give the whole affair up once he gets to know us.”
“He can’t get to know me,” Rollo pointed out. “We’re not supposed to speak directly until we’ve tried to kill each other.”
“That’s true,” Montague said. “We’d have to travel separately. You two with Black, Meade and me with Rolls. But it’s not such a bad idea to be there and fresh the next morning. Also gets us out of town and the curious wanting to know if it’s true you’re fighting a duel.”
Rollo shrugged impatiently. “I don’t much care. I just want it over. I have more important things to deal with. Shove off, now, there’s good fellows. I’m busy.”
Fitz, having achieved his aim without admitting his thrall to his aunt—or to Gina in an entirely different way—was happy enough to go. He and Dom decided to call on their own man to persuade him going to Renwick’s the night before was a good idea.
“What’s the matter with Rolls?” Dom said abruptly as they walked. “Is he sorting out his marriage at the same time as his duel?”
“I’m afraid it might be something like that,” Fitz said ruefully. “But it won’t be to the Smythe girl.”
“No, I’m afraid it will be to Mrs. Snoddy. And it won’t answer.”
“No,” Fitz said. “I don’t suppose it will. But the poor fellow doesn’t have many options, save borrowing from Wenning and his friends, and he’s come over too proud.”
“He always was,” Dom said. “In his own way. All this raking about town was only ever a distraction to him. What he really wants is to run his own acres and be a simple country gentleman. Most of the time.”
“Rollo?” Fitz said dubiously. “Are you sure?”
“Nope. But he does keep a fellow guessing. Come on, let’s find our gudgeon and explain his pre-duel treat to him.”
*
Despite all her anxieties—mostly involving her plan, her own willingness to deceive, and the fact that she had not seen or heard from Rollo—she found she was delighted to be reunited with her father. He was autocratic and so utterly determined on his family’s social advancement, that he had not considered Gina’s feelings. But he was her father, and she had missed him.
Mrs. Fitzwilliam, the eternally good-natured Fitz, Gina, and her father all dined privately in his sitting room at six o’clock, which was early by town standards. However, it was clear to Gina that her parent was tired from his long journey and needed an early night. Which suited her plans perfectly. However, she needed to know his.
“What brings you to town so soon, Papa?” she asked in a private moment. “We weren’t expecting you until closer to the end of the month. Is everything well?”
“Oh, yes, of course, everything is fine. Your brother and sisters send their love. It just struck me Longton is playing us for fools.”
“In what way?” Gina asked cautiously, trying not to be consumed by hope that he had changed his mind about her marriage. In which case, she would be able to cancel the elaborate charade.
“Laying down the law. Inspecting your performance in London society as though you’re an ill-mannered horse. It’s downright disrespectful, and so I shall tell him.”
“You mean to break the engagement?” She had to fight not to sound delighted, or even hopeful.
He blinked. “Of course not. I gave my word. But it’s time he gave his.”
“You want to bring the wedding forward?” she asked faintly.
“Best thing for all of us. Can’t be pleasant for you either, living with this uncertainty. But Mrs. Fitzwilliam tells me you have been quite taken in polite circles and that Longton is pleased with you. So, I’ve come to speak to him and set the date.”
Gina sank onto the nearest sofa to deal with the abrupt loss of equally sudden hope and was very glad when the others joined them. Oh yes, she was right to have planned this evening, for her father would never, ever break his word, even, she suspected, if he knew it was wrong to keep it.
“You are tired, Papa,” Gina said when they had consumed a very decent dinner. “Perhaps we should all retire early in order to make the most of tomorrow.”
“I’ll own several days in a bumping coach takes it out of me far more than rushing from mill to mill and office to office all day ever has,” her father said.
Fitz’s face perked, though he quickly covered the fact with a sympathetic expression.
“Well, we shall leave you for tonight, Papa, and meet again for breakfast,” Gina proposed. “It was a lovely idea to meet us here.”
“Very well-run, comfortable establishment,” her father pronounced. “Though I am sorry to be such a dull companion.”
Everyone assured him he was no such thing, and in spite of being still a tad indignant with him for his unkind disposal of her life, she kissed him goodnight with a rush of affection. She could not change him and did not wish to. But she had to look after herself, too.
Fitz conducted the ladies back to their suite of rooms—the same they had occupied the last time—and took himself off, no doubt in search of some congenial spirits with whom to enjoy a convivial evening.
Mrs. Fitzwilliam flopped down on the sofa. “It’s rather an early end to the evening, is it not? Barely nine o’clock! We could play cards if you like.”
Gina hesitated. She could not afford to spend hours playing cards with her chaperone. On the other hand, she didn’t think Mrs. Fitz would believe her if she claimed exhaustion and retired at this time of the evening. Nor could she be sure Mrs. Fitz would retire when she did.
And Little would definitely be suspicious. On the other hand, she didn’t really want to involve her kind chaperone in what was to follow, even if she had introduced Lord Longton to Papa. Perhaps, if things were still decorous, she would leave before long…
“Funnily enough, Princess Hagerin asked me the same thing! I had to decline because I assumed we would be with my father the whole evening. But she is holding a private card party here in the hotel.”
“She is?” Mrs. Fitzwilliam looked astonished. “Why would she come all the way out here just to hold a card party?”
“I don’t know,” Gina replied brazenly. “Perhaps to accommodate friends from out of town. She has a very wide acquaintance, does she not?”
“That is very true. But she mentioned nothing to me, and I have received no card.”
“I suppose she didn’t bother to speak to you because I had already told her we were elsewhere engaged.”
“She is quite easy-going,” Mrs. Fitzwilliam reflected. “I’m sure she would not mind if we imposed for a little…” She frowned. “A very little. If the stakes are high, I cannot afford to play, Gina, and you should not.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s just for fun,” Gina lied, ignoring her conscience. When Mrs. Fitz saw the stakes were ridiculous, she would be more inclined to leave, and Gina would still have a chaperone in the princess.
Accordingly, they went in search of the princess’s rooms and knocked on the door. It was opened by a liveried footman, whose fellow was offering trays of refreshments to the people within.
Princess Aline Hagerin, in magnificent evening dress, was standing in the middle of the sitting room, chatting to a couple of people, though most of the guests were seated, some already dealing cards. The majority were gentlemen, although a few elegant ladies graced the company, one middle-aged and two dashing young matrons.
And a very large dog, lying on the floor. He got up suddenly, wagging his tail and Archie Holles, who held the lead, gave Gina a sardonic smile.
The princess saw the newcomers at once and swept toward them. “You came! How delightful!”
“My father was tired after his journey, so we left him to sleep.”
“Excellent, then we may play our promised challenge of piquet! Mrs. Fitzwilliam, a glass of wine? What would you like to play? Or would you prefer to sit and watch?”
Gina was in awe. Without the princess, she would have struggled to bring together such a mix of the respectable and the slightly ramshackle. She would certainly have struggled to place them so well, with the noisiest group of rakish young men close to her own piquet table and Archie Holles with Pup almost back-to-back with her. Though Archie held the lead, the dog lay half beside Gina so that she could stroke its great head and let it lick her hand occasionally.
In fact, as Gina commenced the serious business of losing to the princess, it struck her that the dog was behaving exceptionally well. According to Catherine, he got extremely excited in company.
She leaned back a little and spoke to Archie. “Thank you for doing this, sir.”
“It’s my pleasure, though I hope you know what you’re about.”
“So do I,” she said fervently. “Is Pup quite well?”
“Thankfully, he seems to be overwhelmed. I don’t believe he has ever been in company without at least one of his family present.”
Since Mrs. Fitzwilliam was frowning at her from the sofa, Gina allowed herself to win the next hand with sensible play. Even so, her heart sank when her chaperone appeared at her side.
