Page 1 of A Suitable New Year’s Revenge (Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society #42)

Helena Grant sat down and picked up her book, a fascinating treatise on the plays of the ancient Greek writer Aristophanes. She carefully found the page where she’d stopped reading and then closed the book. Four long strides and she was across the room, staring out the window.

Nothing had changed in the past three minutes. Lord Colburne’s tiger still sat on the bench of the physician’s phaeton, trying to stay warm in the chill of the mid-December air. Ten minutes ago, when she’d looked out, the equipage had been gone, but he’d returned again the last time she looked out into the street. She’d asked him in to the warmth of the kitchen, but he’d refused, saying he couldn’t leave the horses. At least the boy had warm clothing. She could see the muffler tied securely around his neck and the mittens on his hands from here.

Helena returned to her seat and picked up her book once again. And, once again, as soon as she’d found her place, she simply could not concentrate and put the book down, only to pace back and forth from sofa to window, window to sofa.

What was taking that man so long? How long did it take to listen to an old man’s chest? Did it really take—she glanced at the clock—over a quarter of an hour to determine whether a man was about to expire or not?

Well, she thought to herself, reasonably, it should probably take a great deal longer to come to that conclusion. But still… why did the doctor not return to give her his report? She knew her father didn’t have either the stamina or the breath to engage the man in conversation.

And then a horrible thought struck her—he wasn’t bleeding her dearest Papa, was he? She’d specifically chosen Lord Colburne as her father’s physician because not only was he known to be the best doctor in London with a sterling reputation for specifically treating heart patients, but he did not believe that bleeding a patient was always the answer as so many other doctors proclaimed. In truth, Helena was certain many doctors relied on that method merely to show that they were doing something because they could think of no other treatment.

But bleeding would not help a man whose heart was failing him. It would set him back even further, she was certain of it. She let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m afraid that sigh is more appropriate than you might have hoped.” The man’s voice came from just inside the drawing room.

Helena spun around to find Lord Colburne wiping his hands on a handkerchief before stuffing it into his pocket.

She rushed up to him. “How is he? He’s become worse, hasn’t he?” She clasped her hands together, hoping he would not see the trembling she could feel throughout her body.

“I’m sorry to say that he has. It is not looking good, Miss Lawson. Not good at all. I am so sorry.” The young doctor’s deep green eyes conveyed sorrow as he looked down at her.

Helena swallowed. “How—how long?” she whispered, as if she said the words any louder they might be true.

“I cannot say for certain.” He gave her a small, lopsided little smile. “No one knows when a soul is ready to depart this world for the next.”

“But?”

“But, I would say anytime between a few days and a month.”

Helena opened her mouth to say something, but there were no words. And even if there were, they wouldn’t have been able to get past the lump in her throat. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.

“I am very sorry. I understand your mother died some time ago. Do you have any other relations you can call upon at this time?” he asked, looking at her with concern.

Helena closed her mouth and shook her head. “No. There is no one. I don’t have any aunts or uncles, cousins or grandparents.” She looked up at him, doing her best to keep her tears at bay. “Once my father goes, I shall… I shall be alone in this world.”

“But you have known this was coming, Miss Lawson, as has your father. Are there no provisions for you? Surely, you will have this house to live in. Please excuse me for asking. I’m certain it is none of my affair, but has your father left you money in his will? A dowry? Any sort of—”

“No. He… he has never had very much. Perhaps you were not aware my grandfather bankrupted the family with his gambling and excessive spending. He sold most of the land of the estate. There is very little left. There is very little money.”

“I am sorry,” he said quietly. “Do you know who will inherit the title and what your father does own?”

“Yes.” She looked at him to show that there was still some hope. “Baron Hazelton is a distant cousin. He is the one who will inherit after…” She couldn’t say it. She still couldn’t say ‘after my father is dead.’ “And I plan on applying for positions as a governess.”

The doctor gave a little chuckle. “Well, you are certain well educated enough. Your father told me he had published no fewer than eight articles you’d written on the Greek playwrights and their works.”

“Aristophanes. He is my favorite. I’ve studied his work extensively.”

“Well, then, I’m sure you won’t have any problem finding a position.”

She did her best to give him a smile. “If only I liked children,” she said softly, nearly to herself. She gave herself a shake. She would not bemoan her opportunities for, indeed, they were all she had at this point. Once Papa was gone… she would be alone in this world.

“I beg yer pardon, Miss, but this was just delivered for you,” Joy, their maid of all work, said, coming into the room. She gave Lord Colburne a quick curtsy before handing the letter to Helena.

Taking it, she saw that it was from her father’s solicitor and a sigh of relief came out unbidden. “It is from the solicitor. I asked him to write Baron Hazelton on my behalf to ask if I might stay here after my father passes,” she explained to the doctor before opening it.

Dear Miss Grant,

I am very sorry to inform you that your request to Baron Hazelton has been denied. He gave no reasons or explanations. Enclosed is the letter for your perusal.

Yours most sincerely,

Elija Fitzsimmons

She shifted to the second page.

Dear Mr. Fitzsimmons,

I have received your request, and the answer is no.

Baron Hazelton

Helena read the words. Then she read them a second time before turning the paper over to see if there was more. There wasn’t. That was it.

She looked up at Lord Colburne, who was standing there watching her, waiting to hear what the baron had said. “I… I don’t understand this,” she admitted to him.

“May I?” He held his hand out for the letter.

She gave it to him and then watched his face as he took in the very few words of Lord Hazelton’s letter. He then did precisely the same as she had and turned it over, looking for more.

“No. He said no.” She looked up at the doctor to be sure she was understanding this correctly. “No explanation. No… anything.”

“What exactly did your solicitor say when he wrote to him?”

“He explained my situation and that his lordship would be inheriting my father’s title, this house, and our estate in Oxfordshire. I asked to stay in either—I have no preference. If he needed this house here in London, I would have been happy to move to the estate.”

“And he was told that you have no other relatives?”

“Yes. That is how he is inheriting, even though he’s only a very, very distant relation.”

“And he said…” he looked down at the letter again. “He said no.”

Helena closed her eyes. What was she to do? Her father would be dead within the month if not sooner and she would be forced to leave her home with nowhere to go and very little money of her own.

She felt a steadying hand grasp her elbow. “I think you should sit down, Miss Lawson.”

She gave a weak nod and allowed him to lead her back to the sofa. She sat, but he took up the same pacing she had been doing earlier when waiting for him to come from his examination of her father.

“There must be something…” he said, most likely speaking to himself. He paused his steps. “If I knew the man, I would write to him myself, but… I do not. I’m sorry.”

Helena shook her head. “It probably wouldn’t have done any good, anyway. Clearly, he is eager to get his hands on my father’s property.” Her voice sounded odd to her ears. Hollow. Quiet. Empty.

“I would offer you a place in my own home, but my wife is expecting our first child within a few months,” he explained.

“Oh no! I could not! Even if you had been able… my lord, you hardly know me.”

He gave her a little smile. “I have been your father’s physician for the past two years and I believe Lady Colburne has been introduced to you at society parties, has she not?”

“Indeed, I was honored to have met her. Your wife is a very kind and generous lady.”

“I believe she is too, but…” He turned away from her and paced back to the window where he stared out at his phaeton, just as Helena had been doing earlier. After a minute, he returned to her. “I have an idea. It may be for naught, but it’s an idea.”

Pine Teviot settled into the comfortable chair at Powell’s Club for Gentlemen. He’d left the seats closer to the fireplace open for the older men who felt the cold much more than he.

He’d wandered the length of the room when he arrived to see if there was anyone he knew present. As usual, there wasn’t. All of Pine’s friends were home at their country estates for the holidays.

Not Pine. But he would not allow him to wallow in those thoughts. He could do that in his rooms at the boarding house where he lived. No, he was here to divert himself.

He ordered a cup of tea—eleven in the morning was really too early for spirits—and was just looking about for a newspaper to read when Lord Wickford, the owner of the club, sauntered down the room. He paused to greet some other men and then did the same when he got to Pine.

“Mr...” Lord Wickford started, clearly searching for a name.

“Teviot. Pine Teviot.” Pine stood up to shake the man’s hand.

“Ah, yes. You’re Lord Hazelton’s son. Am I correct?”

“Indeed, my lord.”

“I do hope all is well with your father? I don’t believe I’ve seen him for a while.”

“No. The last time he was in Town was for the Parliamentary session last spring and I believe he didn’t even stay very long then.”

Lord Wickford nodded. “And you are not joining him and your family for the holidays?”

Pine shifted his weight. “I’m afraid I’m not welcome until I have a wife on my arm.” Heat rose up in his chest. Not only was the situation embarrassing, but every time he thought of it, he wanted to grind his teeth in anger and frustration.

His lordship winced. “I’ve heard of gentlemen going to some lengths to see their heirs marry, but that’s rather extreme.”

Pine kept his voice quiet and controlled. “I have to admit, it is upsetting. I have younger siblings with whom I’m very close and I haven’t been able to see them in nearly two years.”

“I am so sorry! Two years and a handsome man such as yourself hasn’t found a young lady to marry?”

Pine felt the tightness in his chest ease, and he smiled awkwardly at the compliment. “I’m afraid I’m rather odd, my lord—I’d like to marry for love.”

“That’s not odd at all,” Lord Wickford interrupted. “I did so myself.”

“I know. I was actually one of Lady Wickford’s admirers before you married. If you’ll excuse me for saying so, you are a very lucky man.”

The smile that grew on Wickford’s face was thoroughly genuine. “I have to say, I agree with you completely. I do hope you’re able to find someone as wonderful.”

“Thank you.”

“So, if you’ll be in Town for the holidays, you must be coming to my wife’s New Year’s Eve ball.”

Pine smiled, trying to keep the embarrassment from his face. “I don’t believe I received an invitation.”

“Really? Well, that was certainly an unintentional oversight. I will ensure you receive one.”

Pine bowed. “That is most kind of you, my lord.”

“And will I see you at Lady Ayres’s Christmas party on the 24 ?? ?”

“Er...”

“You will receive an invitation for that as well,” Lord Wickford said quickly.

“Oh, I don’t—”

His lordship held up a hand. “As soon as the ladies of the Wagering Whist Society learn you are seeking a wife, I can assure you they’ll be more than happy to help.”

A true smile found its way to Pine’s face. “Now I worry about what I’m getting myself into.”

Lord Wickford burst out laughing. “I can make no promises, but you never know who they might introduce to you. I don’t think you should dismiss them out of hand.”

“I most certainly would not. In fact, I’m certain I would appreciate any help I can get.”

Helena shook her hands at her sides. I can do this. They’re just women, after all, she told herself. She then scoffed at her own thought. Just women, yes, but the most powerful women in society, aside from the patronesses of Almack’s. And what she was here to tell them was possibly the most private and embarrassing thing a young lady could reveal. She’d come for help. She’d come because she truly had no other choice.

Dr. Colburne had assured Helena that the ladies truly were kind and thoughtful people—but then, of course, he would think so. He was married to one.

Helena took another deep breath in, gave her hands one last shake, and then entered the Ryder Street Club for Refined Ladies.

The ma?tre d’h?tel smiled at her as she entered.

“Good afternoon, I have an appointment with the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society. I was told this was where I would find them.” She did her best to keep her voice neutral—neither asking nor apologizing for her intrusion into this club, of which she was not a member.

“You are...?”

“Oh! Miss Helena Lawson. I do beg your pardon. I should have led with that, I suppose.” She smiled apologetically.

She was clearly expected because the man just nodded. “Of course, Miss Lawson. The ladies are in their room—just up the steps, second door on your left.”

“Thank you.”

Helena gathered her fortitude about her shoulders like a favorite shawl and headed up the stairs.

“Come in!” called a voice after Helena gave a knock on the door. It was clear this was the correct room since there was a very nice plaque on the door which said, “Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society.”

Helena opened the door and stepped across the threshold hesitantly.

There were two card tables by the windows overlooking the street and across from them, against the near wall, two sofas and a scattering of comfortable looking chairs centered around a low table in front of the fireplace. The walls were an elegant silk-covered pale blue and the upholstery on the sofas and chairs matched perfectly. The few paintings were of landscapes. and above the fireplace there was a very large mirror reflecting back the light from the windows, making the room very bright and welcoming.

The eight ladies of the Wagering Whist Society were seated around the fire, enjoying some tea.

One of the younger ladies, who was most obviously with child, stood up. “Miss Lawson. I am Diana, Lady Colburne. My husband is Dr. Colburne. I believe we have met before?”

“Yes, my lady, thank you.” Helena didn’t quite know what she was thanking the lady for, but it seemed to be the right thing to say. She also executed her best curtsy to the group at large, well aware that at least one of the ladies was a duchess.

“Let me introduce you to everyone,” Lady Colburne went on. She pointed to the older, blonde and gray-haired woman to her right. “This is Lady Ayres.” To the next woman, who seemed to be only a little younger and with dark blonde hair sprinkled with gray, “Lady Blakemore.” Next to her was Lady Gorling, then a younger lady, Lady Welles and Lady Sorrell. The older Duchess of Bolton, who had a cute little black and white dog sound asleep on her lap, was next, and finally the stunningly beautiful Lady Wickford.

Helena was certain she would mix up most of their names if she were asked to recite them back.

There was a smattering of “how do you do’s” and “so pleased to meet yous” from the ladies.

“Please, have a seat,” Lady Colburne said, indicating the only empty seat in between two of the younger ladies. “Would you care for some tea?”

“Oh, no, thank you,” Helena said. She would be certain to spill it in her trembling hands if she were to accept.

“Are you certain? It is my own special blend,” Lady Wickford said. Helena remembered that she and her mother-in-law were the owners of the club below.

“Yes, thank you,” Helena said, folding her hands in her lap to make it less obvious how nervous she was.

Lady Colburne sat back down. “My husband said that you were in need of our help, but didn’t tell me any more than that,” the lady said, gently rubbing her hands over her belly. “Would you mind telling us what the problem is?”

Helena gave a little nod as she gathered her thoughts. “My father, who is a patient of Dr Colburne’s, is not doing well. In fact, I was told that it was unlikely that he would see the end of January.”

“Oh, I am so sorry,” one of the older ladies said. There were lots of sad tutting and shaking of heads.

“When he passes, I shall be made homeless,” Helena continued. Her throat threatened to close up again, but she swallowed hard and fought the sensation.

“Will his heir not see to you?” the lady next to Lady Ayres said.

“No. My father’s heir is Lord Hazelton—he’s a very distant cousin. I’ve had my solicitor write to him to ask if I might stay either in the London house—where we’re living right now—or at our small estate near Oxford. But he said no.”

“No?” the lady to Helena’s right asked.

“No.” Helena nodded. She took in a deep breath to keep her emotions at bay. “No explanation, not even an ‘I’m terribly sorry, but no.’ Nothing. Just ‘no.’”

“I am not acquainted with Lord Hazelton,” the younger lady to Helena’s left said, looking around the circle.

“I’m certain I’ve met Lady Hazelton a time or two,” Lady Ayres commented.

“Yes, as have I,” said the lady next to her. “But not for some time. I believe they don’t come to Town very often.”

“He’s Mr. Teviot’s father,” Lady Wickford added.

A number of heads swiveled in her direction. “How do you know that?” someone asked.

“Wickford told me Mr. Teviot was in Town for the holidays and asked me to send him an invitation to my ball on the thirty-first. Oh, and Lady Ayres, he asked if you might be so kind as to invite him to your Christmas party. He’s apparently a very nice fellow.”

“Of course, I would be happy to,” Lady Ayres said. She then turned back to Helena. “And that might be the answer to your dilemma, Miss Lawson.”

“Oh, yes!” said the lady with the dog—the duchess? “What an excellent idea. She could meet him there and ask him to speak to his father for her.” She nodded vigorously, sending her drooping cheeks and many chins wiggling.

“Precisely,” Lady Ayres agreed.

“Do you think he might?” Helena asked dubiously.

“I’m certain of it,” Lady Ayres said.

“Miss Lawson, may I ask a particularly rude question?” the woman who Helena thought was the duchess asked.

“I, er, suppose so,” Helena said, hesitantly. She didn’t think she could reveal anything more embarrassing than she already had.

“Why is it that you are not married? I beg your pardon, but you look to be older than twenty, and I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you at a party.”

Helena dropped her gaze to her hands, but before she could answer, Lady Wickford added, “You’re very pretty. Surely if you tried, it couldn’t be too difficult to find a husband.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Helena said, feeling her cheeks heat. “My mother presented me when I was eighteen, but I grew up in a very... intellectual home, I suppose you could say. I was encouraged to study Greek and Latin and became extremely fond of the Greek playwrights and their work.” She paused to look around at the ladies, who were all listening to her closely. She gave an embarrassed little laugh. “It turns out no gentleman of the ton wants to hear about Aristophanes or Euripides while at a ball or on a drive about the park.”

“Oh dear,” one of the older ladies said.

The younger woman to Helena’s left burst out laughing. She quickly smothered it with her hand. “Do excuse me, but that’s too droll,” she said.

Helena smiled. “It is amusing now, but it was quite the opposite at the time. My mother died two years ago—influenza—and my father’s health declined immediately after. I’ve spent these two years looking after him.”

“Oh, you poor dear,” the duchess said with a shake of her head and her many chins.

Helena gave a little shrug. “I have resigned myself to becoming a governess, but I’m certain it will take some time to find a position, especially since I have no experience.”

“What a difficult situation!” the woman to Helena’s right exclaimed.

“Well, the very least we can do is introduce you to Mr. Teviot,” Lady Ayres said. “As well as all the eligible young men present. There won’t be many because of the time of year, but if you can stay in your home through the season, we will be sure to introduce you to many more.”

“Only, no discussing ancient Greek play writes, hmm?” the lady next to Lady Ayres said.

“Indeed, stick to safe topics like the weather and any society goings on,” the woman next to her agreed.

“I’m afraid I’m just not very good at that sort of thing. I have to admit, I spent most of my time, when I was in Society, hovering near a wall,” Helena said.

“Well, you now have a few months to practice being bolder. Lady Welles and Lady Wickford can teach you all you’ll need to know.” The two younger ladies nodded.

“I would be very happy to do so,” Lady Welles said from Helena’s left.

“Thank you. My most sincere thanks to you all.” Helena looked around at all the ladies. Lord Colburne had been absolutely right—these women were very special.

After Miss Lawson left, Lady Blakemore looked around the room at her friends. “Well?”

“I feel just awful for the poor girl,” the Duchess of Bolton said immediately.

There were lots of nods around the circle.

“I don’t know Lord Hazelton,” Lady Welles said. “Why would he do such a thing as to put a girl out on the street?”

Lady Blakemore frowned. “I have to admit, I don’t know him well, although I’m certain I have met him a few times. Lady Hazelton, Catherine, is an old friend of mine.”

“I know Mr. Teviot. He was one of my suitors soon after the start of my first season,” Lady Wickford said.

“What is your assessment of him?” Lady Sorrell asked.

“He’s handsome, clever, and a very kind man. I would not hesitate to direct a friend his way if she were looking for a husband,” the young lady said.

Lady Ayres chuckled. “Well, considering that we just did, I’d say that’s a very good thing.”

“I have met him once or twice,” Lady Welles said. “I’ll be happy to chaperon their meeting on Christmas eve.”

“Excellent,” Lady Blakemore said, with a little relief. She didn’t know the gentleman at all, but having someone he’s met before will hopefully make him more conducive to hearing Miss Lawson out.

“Thank you, Lydia,” Lady Colburne added.