“I won’t buy Helen from you,” James fumed, “and I won’t let you gamble her away.”
“She’s very fetching; someone will want her.”
James had had enough, and he seized Trent by the lapels of his coat.
“You will leave her be. I will see to her. She deserves better than to be used and abused by you.”
“Of course she does,” Trent concurred, batting James away, “but why on earth would you presume that you should see to her welfare?”
“I love her,” James declared. “I’ve always loved her.”
“You love Helen? I could have sworn you said she was your employee.”
“She was much more than that.”
“Was she? I would never have pegged you as the type to tumble your servants, but then, who can know what a fellow is truly like, hmm?”
Trent sipped his brandy again, perfectly composed and not evincing the slightest sign that they’d almost come to blows.
“Don’t ever tell her,” James threatened, “that you tried to sell her as if she was a prized cow at the market.”
“Why shouldn’t I? She’s nothing to me. Why would I care about her feelings?”
“Shut the hell up, you vile knave! I won’t have her learning how despicable you are.”
“You don’t think she’s already guessed?”
James grabbed his coat and stuffed his arms into the sleeves. He was sickened by his nearness to Trent, and as he prepared to depart, he was amazed to discover that he felt lighter of heart, as if a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
There was probably a moral lesson that should have been obvious, but at the moment, he couldn’t fathom what it might be. He simply wanted to be out of Trent’s presence and to never set eyes on him again.
“In case you were wondering,” Trent said as James headed for the door, “she’s at Phillip’s house.”
“What?” James whipped around.
“She’s at Phillip’s, and before you race over there, there’s one other thing you should know.”
“What is it?”
“I understand that you’ve been reared on some dreadful stories about me.”
“Stories that I’m positive are all true.”
“Are they?” Trent’s expression was stoic, enigmatic. “I didn’t encourage your mother to flee to France with me. I wasn’t acquainted with her in London, and I was already in Paris when she arrived.”
“What are you saying? Are you claiming you were innocent in the whole affair?”
“Never innocent. Not I. But you’re a grown man now. Perhaps you should consider what her life was like with your drunken father. Perhaps you should consider how unhappy she was.”
Trent’s comments rattled loose the very foundation of James’s existence. Had his mother been unhappy? Had she run from his father’s drinking? James recollected that his father had started imbibing after the scandal, not before. Had his father always been a drunkard?
When his mother had left, James had been very young, and his view of his family’s history was distorted by that fact.
What if his father’s account was false? What if the actual version of events was more complicated than James wanted to admit?
“So I suppose,” James sneered, “that you were merely being a good friend to her—helping her through a difficult time and all that.”
“I’m not that noble, but I never decline what is freely offered.”
“Is it your pathetic contention that my mother chased after you rather than the other way around?”
“I would never contradict a lady.”
“I’m sure you’re a veritable font of chivalry.”
Trent lifted an elegant brow. “I raise no defense with regard to my behavior, and I wouldn’t pretend to be honorable, but I’m not necessarily the villain in every tale that’s told about me.”
James turned and hurried out, too stunned to argue or retort.
“Well,” Phillip asked, “what happened?”
Charles glared at his son as he stood and began stacking gold coins in the case in which he’d brought them.
Phillip had been downstairs, waiting for the ordeal to conclude. It had taken forever to best Westwood, and Charles had to give Westwood credit. He was an excellent card player. Charles was just a better one.
“I did exactly as you requested,” Charles said.
“And...?”
“He was too courteous to ruin me and too gallant to wager over Helen.”
“So my scheme worked.”
“Yes, but I don’t know why you didn’t simply demand that he marry her.”
“Some men can’t be ordered about,” Phillip stated.
“No, they can’t.”
“Will he propose?”
“I’m certain of it. He thinks I’ll sell her if he doesn’t.” Charles shook his head. “Honestly, the things some people are willing to believe. It boggles the mind.”
“He doesn’t like you.”
“Once he’s wed her, he’ll get over it.”
“Here’s hoping. I want both twins to have a stable situation. I can’t have you fighting with him after the wedding.”
“What’s to fight about? Westwood’s all right. His brother’s even better. I have no quarrel with either boy. They’re nothing like their father. Thank God.”
“Have you decided on the dowries you’ll provide to the twins?”
“Yes, Phillip, yes. Must you continue to badger me?”
Charles threw up his hands in disgust. Phillip never stopped his financial harangue, and Charles couldn’t figure out why he put up with it.
“I trust you’ll be generous?” Phillip nagged.
“Shall I just open my purse and let you steal it all?”
“You have plenty.”
“I’m not a bottomless pit of money.”
“You’re paying what you owe, Charles, so you’ll get no sympathy from me.”
“You’re a pest and a parasite; you have a heart of stone. Where did you come by such charitable inclinations?”
“I’m told I take after my mother.”
“Yes, you do, more’s the pity.” Charles picked up his belongings, ready to depart for home. It had been a long night, and he was eager to fall into bed. “Have you found the other three daughters from that year when the twins and Fanny were born?”
“Not yet.”
“So you won’t be fleecing me out of more cash any time soon? Or should I begin gambling at a faster pace so I have a stash set away?”
“I’m still looking for all of them. You’ll be the first to know the minute I succeed.”
“You’re too kind. And what about Jean Pierre, Westwood’s half-brother? Any news?”
“The Crown has issued an arrest warrant. They want him hanged.”
For all his faults, Charles was not a cruel person. He liked to complain to Phillip, liked to grumble and pretend that he was angry over Phillip’s meddling, but in reality, he was content to assist Phillip. If he hadn’t been, Phillip would have been ignored and disavowed.
Charles wasn’t overly fond of his offspring—he didn’t have the emotional character required to attach himself—but neither would he allow one of them to be harmed.
“I won’t permit anyone to kill one of my children,” he swore, “no matter what he’s said to have done. I trust you to see that it doesn’t happen.”
“I’ll try my best.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Father and natural-born son, an unlikely pair of conspirators, walked out of the club together and exited into the cold, autumn morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“What do you suppose he’s like?”
“Who?”
“Lord Trent.”
“We’ll find out tomorrow.”
Helen smiled at Harriet, trying to act nonchalant, but the prospect was as exciting as it was daunting.
How did one greet such a man?
Though they’d never met him, and Helen had only bad opinions, Phillip claimed Lord Trent wasn’t an ogre, so she was reserving judgment. She would bide her time, would wait and see if Trent was worthy of any respect, but she was sure he wasn’t.
What sort of cad made it a habit to seduce impressionable girls such as Helen’s mother had been? What sort of cad fled immediately after and never returned?
Helen would be blunt and candid. She wanted to know about her mother, about Trent’s relationship with her. Would he even remember Helen’s mother? Or had she simply been one debutante in a long line of ruined maidens?
“It all seems like a dream, doesn’t it?” Harriet said.
“It certainly does.”
“I keep expecting to open my eyes and discover that I was sleeping and none of it is real.”
They were in Phillip’s home, in Harriet’s bedchamber, sitting on her bed, and Helen reached over and pinched Harriet’s arm.
“Ouch!” Harriet griped.
“Did you feel that?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re not dreaming. Stop worrying.”
“I can’t help it. We’ve had so many awful things happen that I’ve quit counting on anything good occurring. It just leads to disappointment —and I’ve had plenty of that.”