Page 19 of A Wager at Midnight (Betting Against the Duke #2)

Chapter 19

S CARLETT —A NYA H OUSE , M AZE OF T RUTH

T he duke’s lush maze hides me completely. The walls loom high enough and are thick enough to keep away prying eyes. The smell of gorse and heather, the maze’s coconut and honey scents, attempt to smother the ghastly rosewater fragrance on my clothes and the fire raging in my chest.

Stephen Adam Carew. I can’t believe you want me and wish to marry.

“Miss or Mr. Wilcox, you can come out now. The physician has gone.”

I lift from my crouching position, straightening my waistcoat. I dust my boots and trudge the twists and turns of the maze.

The duke sits on a bench. Without looking at me, he waves a handkerchief. “I was going to ask you to remove the costume from your face, but you already have.”

“Mr. Carew was kind enough to make a little elixir. It was gentle on my cheeks.”

He nods. “Must everything that man makes smell of rose water?”

When I sit beside him, he squints and stares at me. “Good to see you as you. There’s no lead in those cosmetics?”

“Of course not. I’m a woman of science. I’ll not risk making my teeth fall out. I do like to eat. You think that’s my frivolous side?”

The duke begins to chuckle, then sobers. “I suspected you were listening. Carew is brilliant. His care has improved the health of many. Lydia and I have him and you to thank. The two of you together could be an amazing team.”

“What kind of team? Him telling his little wifey what to do? That’s not a team.”

The duke shrugs. “Georgina likes domesticity, baking, homemaking, I don’t think she would consider that being told what to do.”

“You don’t want me burning down the house baking.” I tug at my waistcoat and carefully refasten buttons that Stephen has undone. “Perhaps he should hire a staff for these needs. Leave me to charts and research books.”

“Have some sympathy for him. It sounds as if you’ve had a stable home. Mr. Carew grew up very fast. His family experienced great turmoil in Trinidad. Then when he was at Inverness Royal Academy, his mother died. His father became a rebel, fighting for his island’s independence from the country Carew now calls home.”

“His father was killed by the British?”

“It’s unclear, but it’s a heavy weight to become something of substance in a foreign land. Carew feels he has a lot of traditions to uphold while building his success in Britain.”

Thought I knew everything about him. Guess I didn’t. “Where are his loyalties? Here, Trinidad?”

“Apparently, it is to you and the aunties.”

This is true, but the situation is impossible. “Did you tell him that I can’t marry him?”

The duke’s face goes blank. “Let’s chat man-to-man.”

Easing my satchel of drawings to the ground, I prepare for a Russian story that’s going to persuade to me marry my physician.

Everything stills. A blackbird flutters nearby. A peacock butterfly flaps its spotted yellow wings and flits past us.

“It’s very peaceful here, Scarlett. Sometimes peace is all you can claim. Mr. Carew lives in Cheapside. You’ll find it very nice.”

Slouching against the bench makes the top button in my burgundy waistcoat pop open. “I met the aunties. They seem a bit much.”

“Oh, they are,” he laughs. “Those ladies are the informal welcoming committee, especially on this side of the Thames, for immigrants. The old Huguenot area stands where once a great Jewish population lived. It’s home to many immigrants. Many well-to-do and up-and-coming Blackamoors have made roots there.”

He sniffles, and I offer the duke the cloth that holds my fake sideburns.

The duke declines my offer, waving his hand to dismiss me. It’s a motion that drives Katherine crazy. I understand better why it does. I stuff the handkerchief into my pocket. “I want to hate Stephen Adam Carew.”

The duke doesn’t respond. At least two minutes pass of the blackbird singing before he says, “It would be easier to hate the ones we care for when we can’t quite find the energy or the words to make peace.”

Well, Stephen and I make peace when we’re not talking. In his arms, everything finds mates—arms, lips . . . waistcoats. “I still want to hate him.”

The duke pats my hand. “Truly? My dear Scarlett, he’s exactly what we are looking for.”

“What do you mean, we ?”

“Carew has a brilliant mind. He’s accepted in the rarefied spaces of the Royal Society. He’s already doing research in the areas of medicine which are your concern.”

“Wait a minute. What are you saying?”

“I choose Mr. Carew to be your husband.” The duke flashes an innocent-looking smile, but his words strike like lightning.

“You have to be kidding. After this week, he’s the last man to want me in science.”

“But he wants you, Scarlett. And you’ve been in love with him a long time. Those are two important things.”

“He wants me? I teased him with banana-shaped ice and kissed him in the carriage, that doesn’t mean . . .”

The duke tilts his head to the side. “I’m going to pretend that’s an innocent statement. And if it’s not, that’s more reason to marry.”

“Maybe I’m too young. For I must surely have missed the part where Mr. Carew and I can stand to be around each other without arguing or kissing.”

The duke raises praying hands. “I’m holding on to hope that these are all innocent statements. Or maybe keep kissing him. That will create understanding. But you have more. You protected him in White’s and Madame Rosebud’s, that means you care deeply and he can trust you deeply. That’s enough.”

Standing, my hands go to my hips. I let them since I’m not trying to pretend I’m not a woman or emotional. I’m signaling that it’s not enough. “I want more. Stephen Adam Carew can’t give more.”

He lowers his hands to the bench. “Fine time for you to figure that out. But I’ve watched you two together. I think there is much more to be gained by both of you.”

“You didn’t see his reaction to the naked man. But you—Why is your face scrunching up?”

He blinks six times. “My life seems to be speeding up and spinning out of control the more I talk with you. Enough. I’ve decided. You gave me power. And please don’t tell Lady Hampton anything about a naked man.”

The duke begins to rise, but I ask, “Tell me why you are meeting with the Earl of Ashbrook.”

Sitting back down, he twirls his cane. “He’s a trained barrister. I needed some legal advice.”

“Yes. He’s very good with criminal trials for the Crown, but lately he’s taken on a number of situations for custody at the Court of Chancery.” I’m frowning, showing him that I’m concerned. Custody would involve minor children. “If you wish to talk about the trouble you are in, I’m here for you, Your Grace.”

“That’s comforting. But I’m not in trouble. I needed to know a few things, like whether, if I locate where my son is buried, I can give him his proper name, give him his honor on the headstone. Mr. Carew just told me the location. Ashbrook’s advisement says I have rights.”

A gasp leaves my mouth. “So, I’m right. Katherine’s stillborn was your son.”

He nods. “That’s why she hates me. I don’t think I can blame her. I didn’t know. I never intended to be gone from her for very long. Now she wishes me gone forever. My sickness will grant her wish.”

“You are doing well, Your Grace. And we are pitiful. That’s not your fault.”

“Katherine believes it is. And on that, we can agree.”

His tone is bittersweet.

And I’m crying again. “If my brother had lived, I would hope he’d be like you. Funny, dedicated. Obsessive, like me.”

“And bothersome.” He stands slowly, like a man weighed down with sandbags. “Don’t forget that. I think everyone can agree that Torrance and the Wilcoxes are bothersome.”

I’m not sure who moves first, but suddenly I’m in his embrace.

“My sister Anya was feisty like you, Scarlett. So inquisitive. Like a butterfly, I wouldn’t hold back her wings, not when she was learning to fly. Just didn’t know she’d soar and become an angel. My mother sent a painting of her. The last one painted of Anya. I didn’t know how much I missed that face.”

His breath whimpers. I think his face is wet. Hard to tell when mine is.

“I can’t be everywhere, Scarlett. I need someone who can help you fly.”

“Mr. Steele?”

“He’s busy with my dealings, but Mr. Carew will do. His code of honor is exactly what I need. I’ll negotiate a marriage between the two of you.”

“What do you have on him that is going to make him agree?”

The duke pats my back and releases me. He wipes at his lapel. “Nothing. But he needs a favor. A beautiful woman to meet his aunties.”

“Yes, Your Grace, choose for him a woman who’s demure, quiet, born of pedigree, an impeccable dresser, and beautiful. And of course, she must be loyal and wonderful.” I mock Stephen’s tone when I say this. “Friday is four days away. Where are you going to find a demure prostitute on such short notice?”

The duke’s palms are up, moving like they are an imaginary scale and he’s weighing things. “No, a prostitute won’t do.”

He comes back to me and lifts my chin with his pinkie finger. “Why get a professional when I have a diamond of the first water here? I know you can pass any overprotective auntie’s test.”

“No. No. All Mr. Carew and I do is argue. I’ll embarrass him.”

The duke leans in. “Merely kiss and quiet him. No argument.” He takes my satchel and my hand and walks me toward the house and his odd new construction. “You’ve played a man for two days under incredible scrutiny. You can play demure and elegant for a day as well.”

“I don’t know. If I blunder—”

“You are charming, Scarlett. My tailor did wonders for this outfit, but for this assignment I will bring the modistes of the spring season to you. They will create a perfect outfit for your Friday outing. I’ll get you a book on social graces.”

No. This is ludicrous. “Thank you for your graces, Your Grace, but Mr. Carew is expecting someone exceptional.”

“Trust me, Scarlett. You will be his perfect woman. Now, you go change before Lady Hampton and Lydia arrive. You will be an angel on earth. Anya will be proud.”

“Angel? Hardly. Carew’s going to object.”

“The physician will see you dressed as someone who can be presented to the queen. Trust me.”

I want to protest, but I actually don’t mind. “I want to make him dread every moment fearing for what I might say, but not how I look.”

“Scarlett, how about a compromise? Let’s try to be nice. Get him out of trouble with his aunts, and figure out if, with kindness, you can be a good match to Carew. I’m sure he’ll reward you with some innocent thing that I don’t need to hear about.”

With a small curtsy, I take my satchel and go into the construction. Avoiding the lumber and dust, I turn and look at the duke. His movements are slow. The decorative cane, he’s leaning on more. I’m frightened for him. We need my friend in our lives.

Glancing at the proud, handsome man, I wonder why Katherine cannot forgive a man who is obviously sorry. Why does it feel as if something more that my sister’s wrath is torturing him? It’s more than his illness or winning the silly bet. I doubt the troubles have anything to do with an angel.