Page 122 of A Gentleman's Wager

“It is only across the valley,” Charles mused.

Bella nodded. “No one is home right now, so he wouldn’t think to look there.”

“How would I get in?”

“I could send my groom—”

“Not your maid?”

“No, Charles, not my maid, my groom, along with instructions. Of course, it mayn’t be the most comfortable night, given they’re not expecting you.”

Charles waved the notion aside with minimal concern. He paced back and forth before the fireplace, before returning to the desk, and looking down at Bella. “Why would you suddenly assist me? It don’t make sense. You’ve seemed rather gleeful about the notion of my evisceration so far.”

“I’m curious as to that too,” Lucerne remarked, having listened to Bella scold both Charles and Vaughan at length, though not to their faces.

Bella flicked the closest stack of coins, causing them to topple. “It would vex him,” she declared. “I’m rather more cross with him than you if I think about it. It was he after all who… You know, never mind.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t want to speak of it, or him. It’s been a delightful few days without him.”

That was far from how Lucerne would have described them, but he let it go.

“Now, now, let’s not be hasty in throwing aside such a kindly offer.” Charles began to scoop his coins up into his purse. “I think perhaps I might take you up on it, if it is indeed a true offer.”

“It certainly has no longer odds than most of your gambles, Charles.” Lucerne muttered. “I mean, over whether she betrays you.”

“Aye, Marlinscar. I understood, and it’ll be better ‘en a night in a bush too.”

“The following day you could go home.”

“Home,” Charles squinted as if perplexed. “Aye, I suppose I could pop back there for a day or two, see how the gentrice is getting along. See if she’s still insisting on bringing that blasted cow into the house.”

Lucerne cupped his hand over his mouth and leaned into Bella. “He does mean an animal. It won a beauty prize at the county show. Best withers or something like that. He wrote a poem about it. You might remember it.”

“Was it before or after the one about the conquistador and the duck?”

“After, I think. No, before.”

Charles began to hobble towards the study door. “If you don’t mind, I’ll excuse myself, and go up and pack.”

“Maybe you should skip that part,” Lucerne reached for the bell to call for a servant. “I can have your things packed up and sent on, after all, you wouldn’t want to still be here when Vaughan arrives, would you?”

“You’re right, Marlinscar. Better just fetch my coat and hat. Miss Rushdale, if you’d be so kind as to introduce me to your groom.”

~*~

Charles in somnambulary fashion—even in peril, swiftness proved beyond him—departed Lauwine in the company of Bella and her groom only once Pennerley’s carriage was spotted on the driveway, thus leaving Lucerne with the disagreeable task of delaying any pursuit. He met Vaughan in the entrance hall, but with the usual retinue of servants about their reunion was restricted to a stiff and overly formal welcome.

They fell into step as they headed upstairs. “Where have you been?” Lucerne asked.

“Surely Miss Stanley informed you—”

“That you were heading into town to settle some business for a few days.”

“That’s correct.”

“Not, I trust, to harangue Wakefield in any way?”

“Our paths did not cross.” He shot a disappointed look in Lucerne’s direction. “Is that what’s been foremost in your mind during my absence?”

“No, of course not.” He hadn’t rightly known what to think.