Page 53 of A Rake's Revenge
“Which I do not have.”
“Your father was a marquis. No one can deny that.”
“Neither can anyone deny my mother was a serving maid.”
“Neither here nor there,” Brice said.
“But it matters to someone like Tisdale. To him, I am a near bastard born on the wrong side of the blanket.”
“Tisdale is the bastard, even if his blood is blue.” Brice held up the half-empty bottle ofA de Fussignythat Stephan had left on the table. “And blue-bloods have expensive tastes. Tastes that they cannot always afford given the expense of their entailed estates.”
Stephan narrowed his eyes. “And a lot of them visit the gaming hells in hopes of winning big.”
“And we know what happens when men are desperate at cards,” Brice said. “They generally lose.”
That was true. Stephan had seen it often enough. Gambling was a lot like fighting. It took calm, steady concentration along with an awareness of every move made. “I think I will dispatch a post to my solicitor in London tomorrow morning and have him find out what condition Tisdale’s finances are in.”
Brice undid the stopper on the brandy. “That is an excellent place to start.”
Chapter Seventeen
What had started out as a much-anticipated, enjoyable evening aboard theLady of Fortunehad turned out to be one of the most disastrous Caroline could remember.
As she climbed out of the carriage and marched into the entrance hall of the Pavilion, Caroline didn’t think she’d ever been so furious in her entire life. That included when Pompous Ass George had dropped her like a iron hot from a forge to marry his Ice Maiden, although maybe it was time to stop blaming Amelia for what would also have been a disaster.
The problem was Caroline wasn’t sure at whom she was the angriest: her father, Tisdale, Stephan, or herself. She’d include Brice in the lot, but she really couldn’t think of anything he’d done wrong. At least, not at the moment.
Her head was already spinning like a toy top by the time she reached her bedchamber. Elle looked up in surprise from where she’d been putting freshly washed linens in a drawer.
“I wasn’t expecting you for at least two more hours,” she said as she hurried over to Caroline. “Did something go wrong?”
“No. Yes. I mean…” Caroline pulled off her spencer and tossed it on the chair. “I just had one of the most humiliating experiences ever.”
“Lord Kendrick didn’t insult you, did he?” Elle asked and then went on before Caroline could answer. “My father always said he was a kind, fair man.”
Caroline sighed and shrugged herself out of the cycling skirt and then sank onto the chair in front of the dressing table. She’d almost forgotten that the father of her young maid worked at Stephan’s estate. “No. Lord Kendrick did not insult me.”
Which was true, she realized, now that some of the steam from her temper was dissipating. She could hardly blame Stephan for not wanting to be the cause of her ruination since it meant he’d have to marry her. He’d only agreed to help keep her from marriage to the earl in spite of the lovely, promising kiss he’d shared with her. She was old enough to know that kisses—especially from someone who had a reputation of being a rake—were not a declaration of love or even commitment. Any more than her silly fascination with the Midnight Marauder was.
“Then what happened?” Elle asked as she started taking the pins out of Caroline’s hair. “If you don’t mind telling me, that is.”
She probably shouldn’t be indulging herself by sharing confidences with her maid. The Lord knew, most ladies of thetondidn’t even acknowledge their maids as anything but servants. But Caroline wasn’t all that keen on protocol.
“My father and the earl came to collect me from the boat like I was a wayward child.” Caroline could see Elle’s shocked eyes in the mirror. “It was embarrassing, to say the least.”
“Oh, Miss. This is bad news.”
“Yes, it is.” Caroline smiled a little when she saw how distressed Elle looked and turned around in her chair. “It is nice to know someone agrees with me.”
“Oh, I do, Miss. I do agree, but it is not that. I mean…” The girl’s voice trailed off.
Caroline frowned. “You mean what?”
Elle picked up a hairbrush. “I shouldn’t be repeating gossip. My father always says I talk too much.”
“Your father is not here. What gossip?” God help her if the earl was bragging about marrying her. If she had to, she would go to the prince regent himself…
“Well, it’s just some of the servants talking.”
