The Rakehell Regency(2)

Though he knew he was the last person the young fool would listen to, he had to try to stop this nonsense, if only to avoid a scandal for Vanessa's sake. They already gossiped about the auburn-haired young bluestocking enough as it was.



"Gerald, are you so lost to decency that you would bargain the life of a complete innocent? Treat her as though she were some sort of slave or chattel to be disposed of at your will? She is not some poor unfortunate from Africa, to be leg-shackled at your say-so.



"It's bad enough you mismanaging your own financial affairs through your gambling and spendthrift ways without dragging Miss Hawkesworth into this sad affair as well. Tell everyone this was just a joke, a silly parlor game, and the ball can resume."



Gerald did not even trouble to look over his shoulder at all of the people now crowding into the doorway to see this latest piece of novel entertainment. Instead he rounded on Clifford.



"Mind your own damned business! I shall do as I like. I'm her nearest male relative. My sister shall obey me. No one is asking you to play."



Peter Stephens nodded. "I agree with Gerald. As her cousin, I also give my consent. It is startling, true, but not unheard of. She's bright enough, and knows how to manage an estate. I would be only too pleased to have her for my own. And since this is my ball, my home, I say let us play."



Malcolm shook his head, and lifted his winnings from the table. The four unmarried men who had been playing cards remained, while the other three who were already married stood up and left. Peter's second brother Toby, who saw this as too good a joke to pass up, sat down expectantly.



All had little doubt Gerald could make good his threat to force his half-sister to marry the winner. He could be charmingly persuasive one minute, volatile the next, especially when in his cups, or out amongst his special friends, as he was tonight. He had dissipated the impressive Hawkesworth fortune in less than five years through his gambling and wenching, and showed no signs of settling down.



Vanessa was a completely different matter, genteel and obliging, even if she was somewhat too intelligent and eccentric for most men's tastes. No, this was too wonderful an opportunity to miss. Wedding Vanessa Hawkesworth would be like marrying into a gold mine.



Clifford tried one last gambit. "But it's not decent," he argued. "She's still in mourning for her aunt, for Heaven's sake. This goes against the laws of God and man."



"And I tell you she is biddable," Gerald insisted. "She will do as she is told, and be grateful for a good husband. So if no one else will sit to play, we shall get started."



Clifford, desperate to stave off this disaster, looked pleadingly at Malcolm, before reluctantly sitting down in the empty chair next to Timothy Bridges.



Malcolm stared at his old friend, stunned. Clifford never gambled! He played cards, but not for money. And certainly not for a woman! Then he saw Clifford looking fixedly at him. Next he swivelled his gaze to stare at the deck.



Several of the most senior and prominent men in the room now began to protest in no uncertain terms. "Clifford Stone! You of all people. This is a shocking business!" Malcolm's father Geoffrey, the local magistrate at Millcote, declared.



Normally Clifford would have been swayed by the magistrate's opinion. Tonight a cold shiver of fear gripped him, its icy fingers clawing at his gut inexplicably.



He had never been superstitious. Yet if he didn't know better he would say he had a strong presentiment that he simply had to try to intervene on Vanessa's behalf in whatever way he could.



Clifford's closest friend Thomas Eltham, the Duke of Ellesmere, tall, distinguished, with jet-black hair and emerald eyes, also attempted to dissuade him. "Clifford, I'm appalled. I never thought you had it in you to be so mercenary!"



"Tommy, I have my reasons," Clifford said in an undertone.



The Duke shook his head. "I don't care to hear them. If this is how you conduct yourself these days, I don't wish to know you. Gambling for a wife like some sort of fortune hunter. I'm shocked beyond words."



"But Thomas--"



Thomas shook his head and stalked off. He knew their service in the Peninsular War had changed them all, but this beggared belief. One of his dearest friends, whom he had thought a man of principle, a Radical like himself, playing for a woman as if she were a no better than a handful of coins, or a horse. It was more than he could bear.



Clifford impotently watched his friend go, but could do nothing to stop him without blurting out his true opinion of Gerald's character and motives in front of the entire room.



He was upset at his friend's abrupt departure, but Thomas didn't live at Millcote, didn't truly know Vanessa. Didn't comprehend what was actually at stake.