Page 14 of A Wager at Midnight (Betting Against the Duke #2)

Chapter 14

S TEPHEN —W HERE I S D AT G IRL ?

T he sky is overcast. Everything, even the grass I’m trampling, looks gray. I don’t smell rain in the air, or blood. I want to see the latter. If I were a different man, Livingston would be carted away. He’d know the blade in my pocket. He could’ve gotten Scarlett ruined. I look at him, with his arrogant wasteful pedigreed nose lifted, and want to knock him flat in the courtyard of Somerset House.

“You seem angry, Carew. I heard you’ve been flat on your back for a week. You should thank me.”

I gawk at the clueless fool and sigh. “Thank you for not abandoning me in White’s. That could’ve been detrimental.”

The fool bucks up and walks with more pep in his step. “You are welcome. And any time you want flowers, just let me know.”

“Do you and Madame Rosebud have a special relationship, or are you fine with sharing?”

My words make the earl stumble. Hopefully, they make him realize the danger he puts himself in.

His stride returns. “Have you spoken with your cousin? It’s my understanding that he had the best new flower.”

I groan and grind out, “I’ll be seeing him shortly. I’ll let you know.”

“Capital.” The fool can’t contain his smile. “No one goes to Madame Rosebud’s and doesn’t have a good time.” His tone gets louder, as if I didn’t hear him, but I’m trying not to curse. Then he stops. “What is it, Carew? I’m trying to befriend you and your cousin. Sebastian’s new marriage and kinship with the Wilcoxes has opened my eyes. Will you not reciprocate my attempt at friendship?”

Well, at least he’s trying. Then I see Scarlett Wilcox, again disguised as Scotland Wilcox. “Livingston, I appreciate the effort. I’m distracted, and I hate being distracted.”

Livingston’s troubled, needs-to-be-punched face clears. “Good. You and your cousin have been fun company.”

I stop on the first step. “You give us this attention because you’re bored?”

“When your best friend gets married to a woman he actually loves and likes spending time with, you’ll see how empty your schedule becomes.”

That puts everything in a slightly different light. “Sir, you don’t have to go to extremes. I’ll dine with you again. Now let’s get my cousin, and we’ll head somewhere for lunch. There’s Scotland.” I point to the top of the steps. “I’m sure he had as good a time as I.”

“Not today, but soon, Carew.” The earl hums a merry tune and becomes more animated as he takes the steps. Must be terrible to be brilliant, wifeless, and friendless in London.

I follow, and soon we are inside with the River God and Scarlett.

“Lord Livingston, Mr. Carew,” she says in that fake low voice. “Are you as excited to observe anatomy?”

Livingston grips the lapel of his charcoal-gray tailcoat. “The young fellow doesn’t have a problem with his memory. Today is indeed anatomy.”

He looks back at me. “We have to show the young lad we are still in our prime.”

“Then that is sad, sir.” Her tone is low and deliciously sarcastic. “I hope for more vigor and purpose when I reach your elevated ages.”

He crumples like his wrinkled jade waistcoat. Taking off his beaver hat, he stashes his gloves inside. “Mind your elders.”

After the earl says this, he turns to me. “Is your cousin always so rude?”

I smile. “Yes. It is one of his most endearing qualities.”

“Well, gentlemen,” Scarlett says, “I’m going back to the exhibition before going to the Royal Society lecture.”

I grab her shoulder. “Not so fast, cousin. Let’s take in the exhibition together.”

Livingston follows but fortunately gets involved in another conversation. I use this to put more distance between us and Livingston.

“Why, Scarlett? Why keep doing this? We got away with this last week. Why tempt fate?”

Scarlett glances at me like I’m the idiot. She looks ridiculous with those bushy sideburns and that black powdery makeup along her jaw. I absolutely hate how it mars her soft skin. She’s in trouble. “Well, last week was our first time we lay . . . lied together.” A smile blooms for a minute, then disappears. “We should keep walking. More people.”

“You looked after me. Cousin, I wish to thank you. What if we get out of here and go for an ice?”

“Plying me with a treat for being a good little boy? No, thank you.”

She isn’t a good boy or girl. She’s loyal. Not many others would’ve stayed, especially the way we tease . . . used to tease each other. “Then how about this for a proper treat? Marry me.”

Livingston wanders toward us. “Carew? What did you tell your cousin? He’s all red in the face.”

“Should I tell the earl, Scotland, or will you?” I say this like a dare. It’s thrilling to feel some power in this situation, for I have none. I compromised Scarlett Wilcox. The remedy is marriage. There’s no other fix that would be honorable. “You will be leaving London shortly.”

Her eyes widened, but then she and Livingston burst into laughter. “What a kidder my cousin is. He means I am so busy with research I will have no time for another Madame Rosebud visit. Like I said in White’s, my lord, my purpose is to learn about eye anatomy and the dissection process. I’ve no time for much else.”

“Cousin Scotland,” I say. “You shall make time for leisure. You need more than studies in your life. I insist we go with my plan.”

Livingston shakes his head. “The only time I see Carew the elder this flustered is when he’s goaded by the fetching Wilcox lass. The girl has blossomed into a beautiful, curvaceous goddess, and Carew the Elder pretends he doesn’t notice, then he monopolizes her time.”

I laugh but it’s true. “I see it now. Scarlett Wilcox is wonderful to chat and tease.”

Coughing, my cousin retreats, and goes deeper into the Great Room. We follow, and she dips her head.

“Carew the Elder, Lord Livingston, I apologize but I must go.”

Clearly, she’s exasperated. I clasp her arm. “Wait, Scotland.”

“If you are fretting about me, sir, don’t.” She tweaks my cravat. Her fingers are long and graceful, even covered in white gloves. “Go fight with your friend, sir. You two are that, even if you don’t wish to admit it.”

“You two!” Livingston starts to clap. “You almost had me fooled, but Carew the Elder, you always give things away.”

His eyes bore into mine. Then Livingston slugs me in the shoulder. “I knew it. Carew the Elder has a mistress. One who keeps you from the brothels. Probably from the drinking, too.”

“Ah, a mistress?” I roll my eyes at the foolish man. “Yes. You got me, Livingston.”

“Well, who is she?” The man of science begins his foolish investigation. “Where did you meet? Is she from Bath?”

Livingston might be brilliant on technical papers and conditions of the eye, but not jokes or popular literature.

“Explain. You can’t be mooning over Eveline Gray. That was a year ago. Old news.” The earl steps closer. “You sly Carew, come on. Confess!” His voice is loud. The man will cause a scene over lies.

“Lord Livingston, my cousin is being modest,” Scarlett intervenes. Her hands fidget behind her back. “It’s not a mistress, but my cousin is courting someone exquisite. Extremely fair and with expensive tastes.”

The earl chortles. He’s loud, and I know Scarlett has pushed things too far.

“Carew, you cad. Then you and a daisy from Rosebud’s . . .”

I’m about to defend my honor and sort through Scarlett’s lies, when I realize Livingston is complimenting me. “You’ve been saving all your money for her,” he laughs.

That’s a lie, but a brilliant one. I’ll let him believe it. “I don’t wish to brag.”

Livingston rubs his hands together. “Then it’s true. And the expensive ones have spies everywhere. They can tell when a man strays. Good work, Carew the Elder. We’ll keep last week to ourselves.”

“Well, you got me there.”

He taps me on the shoulder. “I understand completely. Good behavior until you seal the deal. Big dowry, am I right?”

In for a pound . . . My intention is to wed Scarlett Wilcox. She does in fact have a dowry provided by Torrance. So I throw up my hand. “Yes. Sure. Big. You have me there. This woman has my complete devotion.”

Somebody shrieks nearby.

Two women arrayed in colorful gowns, one blue and the other burgundy, rush toward me. My insides sicken.

The aunties have heard, and they’re coming this way to congratulate me on my half lie.