Page 25 of A Wager at Midnight (Betting Against the Duke #2)

Chapter 25

S TEPHEN —S ECRETS IN THE H IDING R OOM

W ith head shaking and cane snapping along the floor, the duke ushers me into his office. “Oh, Carew. You are smitten.”

I stare at him, trying to pretend I know not what he talks about. “The office is back to being clean and tidy. You must’ve given up on the expansion.”

“You think so, sir. I think you’re stalking a confession.”

I tap the bookcase where the opening was. The dull echo sounds hollow. I pull out a few leather spines. Nothing falls or opens. No special room. I guess he will face his mother when she arrives.

“Mr. Carew, I see you are happy with my choice to meet the aunties.”

“Yes. Wait, choice as in candidates? This isn’t like before, when you tried to match me with Georgina Wilcox?”

“Why would I match you to Georgina when she’s married to someone else? I don’t think a woman should marry a second husband while still having a first.” He sets his cane aside and sits on his desk. The largest marble chess set is beside him. He palms what I believe is a jade-colored pawn and moves it a square forward. “You’ve allowed yourself to see Miss Wilcox’s beauty and maturity. What of her intellect? She’s not a baker. I don’t think she knits.”

“I know Scarlett is smart. We all do.”

“Do you know that she wants nothing more than a marriage of convenience? She needs a husband who is tolerable and who will publish her scientific work.”

“Nothing more? Not love and affection?”

“It appears you and I are the romantic ones. We want the beauty, the brainbox, the body. A good woman is a temple where I will forever worship.”

No lies are detected in his flowery speech. “Scarlett Wilcox is the smartest woman I know, probably the smartest person, but she’s a woman. Torrance, there’s an order to things. I expect a wife to want me, to want my children, to want to build a home.”

“I think Scarlett capable of all that if she is motivated, properly incentivized.”

“Torrance, this is not a business decision.”

He laughs at me, a hearty bitter chuckle. “Marriage is a business. The objective is to build and expand one’s territory. A union maintains legacy and prepares rewards for your children’s children.”

I cross my arms and lean against the bookcase. “I saw a marriage as a business, it was abysmal. If you ever marry, I don’t think you’d say such.”

“Who said I never married?”

His tone is harsh, as if I’ve offended him. Then he begins to laugh and moves a corresponding piece from the pearl-colored side of the large chessboard.

“My experiences do not matter. Only Scarlett’s happiness. She’s the most truthful person I know. Always direct, no pretense. She is the only person other than Lydia who’s truly innocent.”

Our conversation is odd. It makes me nervous. “I need things to be direct, Torrance. What is it the rest of us are guilty of?”

He stops looking down at the chessboard. “Scarlett made Lady Hampton to tell me of our stillborn child.”

Scarlett, bearer of the truth. “Torrance, that’s good. You’ve talked.”

“A little. I didn’t mention the new grave marker for him, or how stunned I was that the date, the third of July, is the same as Lydia’s birthday. How odd?”

I don’t blink. “I wish I could’ve spoken of this earlier, but I must keep my patients’ confidences. And I only recently learned from Scarlett of your history with Lady Hampton.”

“Excuses.” He tilts his head but seems satisfied. “The grave is being redone. Something fitting for the son I lost. I’m not like others who wish to forget.”

“Never forget the person, but the pain has to be forgotten or it’s consuming.” I wrench my cravat, tightening the barrel knot. “For Miss Wilcox to make you both come together must mean you and Lady Hampton have matured, and she believes you’ll not retaliate over this news.”

“Retaliate? Carew, the young lady and I are very close. Her lost twin, Scotland, and my Andrew bond us. Scarlett and I know what it’s like for the world to tell us to forget what we’ve lost.”

I want to say that if I’d known the babe was his, I’d have told him, but that would be a lie. My sacred duty was to Mrs. Wilcox. Mrs. Patsy Wilcox wanted everything kept quiet. “Scandal, Torrance, can be dire. The Wilcoxes had to do what was best to protect their daughters. One scandal affects each girl’s prospects. Blackamoor women in this world, whether in the rarefied air of Mayfair or the sulfur stench of the Thames, have to be beyond reproach to marry and make legacies for their families.”

The patter of slippers and arguing voices sound outside the door. Faster than lightning, the duke comes toward me, pulls a chess piece, and the bookcase opens. He motions me inside.

I follow.

The duke hits something along the wall and the tomb closes. We are still in the dark, until curtains are opened. Torrance lights a torch and gives it to me, pointing at the sconces lining the room. When I have one lit, he closes the curtain. As I light the rest, I notice the beautifully appointed room is brighter than a thousand suns. I step back and douse two. That lowers the light enough to keep me from blinking.

Lady Hampton’s voice vibrates the fake wall. “Where are you two? Out the window to avoid reason.”

She sounds mad, but I’m here with a madman.

“Torrance, I keep secrets. The ton and the upper class have the most. No one knows about your condition or what you suffer.”

“Scarlett knows.”

“We’ve already agreed that she’s the smartest person we know. Unlike everyone else, she would pick up the signs of illness, the carelessly placed pain vials, and the increased use of the cane. And if she sees how bright this room is, she’ll suspect you’re having problems with your vision.”

Scarlett’s eye research in my hands is the greatest overture, an overture of the best kind, her trust. “Her notes on the couching procedures say that you ordered her special tools. These are not just for the friend with cataracts, are they, Your Grace?”

“Mr. Thom has very bad cataracts in both eyes. She’s done research to help him, and perhaps me if necessary.”

I’m pained for my friend. “Torrance, why didn’t you say something?”

“Secrets, my friend. We all have them.” He moves to one of the shelves along the wall that displays some of the most intricate chess sets I’ve ever seen. He picks up a queen piece that shines like crystal. “I would hate to never see my treasures.”

The duke carefully puts it back. “During my last health crisis, the lens, as Scarlett calls it, in my right eye dulled for weeks. It’s clearer but could close again with another crisis. Her research on the eye can help both Thom and me. And for me, there’s only one man I’d trust to do surgery. That’s a physician who’s been trained first as a surgeon. Stephen Adam Carew.”

“You don’t say it like Scarlett. Don’t try.” I hear footfalls again in the study, but this time near the hidden room’s entrance. “Lady Hampton’s still in there?”

“What is she doing? Looking for me in a desk drawer?”

This is foolish. Ignoring their games, I begin flipping through paintings that are stacked in the corner. One is of a landscape somewhere in the countryside. The artist is Cecilia Lance. The scene is so lifelike, it is as if you can walk right in. “Torrance, this should’ve been at Somerset’s Annual Exhibition.”

He waves his hand at me to quiet, and it’s obvious who’s immature in Anya House.

I look at another painting, this one is of the duke’s mother and father, Princess Elizaveta Abramovna Gannibal and Andrew Charles, the Duke of Torrance. “Your mother is lovely.”

“Thank you. She painted those. I’m still trying to determine where to hang them.”

The last picture is of Lydia. She’s wearing a dress similar to the princess. “She will love this gift for her upcoming birthday.”

The duke ignores me, and I return to studying his secret lair. “Do we get to go free if we promise to have good behavior?”

“That’s you and Scarlett’s joke.” He glares at me straight in my eyes. “Scarlett has a gift. Will you encourage her, or will you stifle her to soothe your ego?”

“I’d never . . . How do you know what she wants? And how do we know it’s not me?”

“Well, you are a handsome d’yavol, d’yavol with an ego. I told Scarlett that I would choose someone who would let her continue to do research. Is that you?”

“You mean I have to let her continue to court disgrace?”

“Women have found ways to hide their quest for knowledge. Scarlett is not the first to dress as a man to get what she wants. Agnodice of the fourth century disguised herself to learn medicine to keep the women of Rome from dying in childbirth.”

“Childbirth is dangerous, Tor—”

“Almas Begum did the same, hiding to practice medicine in the Mughal royal courts. I’m sure there are others whose names we’ll learn when these brave women are exposed or when the truth outs after their deaths.”

“Scarlett is brave, but I cannot stand by while she takes such risks. Her reputation and that of her family, my family, will be ruined. Unlike you, I don’t have unlimited wealth to buy a fresh start, gain influence, or rid myself of detractors.”

“If Scarlett were to accept you, then she is your family and then you are part of mine. Family is what matters.”

I move to his right and watch his pupils follow. He does see me. The duke needs to when I confess. “I want Scarlett, but I want none of the games or wars you’re playing.”

He holds out his hand to me. “Shall you protect her? Encourage her mind? The brilliance you quoted and sent from A. Lady’s pen, it can’t only be meant for Scarlett’s complexion. If you will help her in all ways including science, then you’ll have my blessing. If not, you can leave.”

Leave? Am I supposed to kneel or something, since these are things I can do? Torrance is sort of a prince. I take his hand and power it into a shake. “I will bring her caution, but never deter her. If Scarlett will marry me, I’ll make her happy. We can shop together at Bond Street for waistcoats. I’ll be so obliging.”

“Or perhaps you can build that hospital and let her help. Sick people don’t care who funded the creation, Carew. Even your community must see the value of women healers. And they must get rid of the prejudice or envy they might have at you bringing so much good.”

I’ve been stalling on that. “I want a hospital. I see the need daily, but how can I prioritize a project, think of building with brick or stone, or slate without the woman I want to build a life?”

My knee goes down, for I know what I desire. I know what I feel. I’ll show Scarlett. “I’ll be a smarter chaperone this time, Torrance. I will win her hand, her mind, and her heart.”

With a small half smile, he commands me to get up. The duke opens the hidden door. We exit and he closes it.

“What about the sconces?”

“They’ll be doused later. Those paintings must be hung.” He moves to the desk. “Katherine touched the board. She touched a knight.”

The calm, cool duke looks flustered.

“What piece?” I ask. “If I put it back, will you calm?”

Ignoring my suggestion, the duke paces. “She did this. She moved the alabaster knight to G4.”

Is this a world tragedy? “Torrance, why is this bad?”

He’s grasping his chin. “My bishop is in check. That woman. Why?”

“You’re upset because she put that green, stone-looking piece in check.”

He sighs like I am a heathen. “It is jade, Carew. And the viscountess’s move does put my side in check.” He raises his voice. “That’s too easy of a move, Lady Hampton. You know I can simply slide my bishop and take your knight. That would be checkmate. The game would be over.”

His head swivels as if he’s looking for a clue. “Why does she wish to lose? Why give up so easily, and after so many years and months?”

“Maybe she knows that Scarlett has chosen me. She knows she’ll lose your silly bet.”

The duke sinks against his desk. “Sometimes, it’s too late. When things are in motion, they cannot be stopped.”

Torrance slouches. He looks defeated.

And I’m fearful of what he’s done that he can’t undo.

The door opens. Lady Hampton and Scarlett come inside.

“They are both here, Katherine. Perhaps you should take a nap like Lydia.”

“Scarlett, I checked. They weren’t in here. Well, it doesn’t matter. I want to know what has been agreed to.”

“Lady Hampton.” I step forward. “Torrance and I have agreed. I will escort Miss Wilcox with her other chaperone. However, because of the schedule of events, I’ll have her returned by two in the morning, maybe later. Thank you for being generous and understanding.”

“No. Back before midnight.” The viscountess reddens as if she’s about to explode. “There is no way—”

“No way for what, Katherine?” Scarlett glowers at her. “Balls normally end at four. I’m not the coal Vasilisa. I won’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight. I assure neither my slippers nor Carew’s carriage is glass.”

“Coal Vasilisa?” Lady Hampton’s tone becomes stern. “You’re not a Cossack Cinderella, but you need to be returned by midnight.”

“Don’t impose upon me, a woman beyond the age of majority, some odd standard, one you didn’t uphold.”

Lady Hampton frowns and rounds to the smiling duke. “Jahleel, don’t push her into marriage. They don’t love each other. Last year, Scarlett claimed Mr. Carew loved what’s-her-name.”

“Eveline Gray. Or now, or maybe, former Baroness Derand.” Scarlett seems exasperated and minutes away from pointing a finger in her sister’s face. “Does it matter, Katherine? Or is forgetting the past a rule for merely you?”

“Does he love you, Scarlett? Do you love him?”

I was going to complain that I’m right here, that I can answer, but nawww. Meh gonna wait. Meh gonna listen.

Turning her wrath to me, like she knows how cautious I am with my words, my heart, Lady Hampton glares at me. “Scarlett won’t be happy not having everything. She deserves to be loved.”

The silence from me, the duke, from Scarlett, feels heavy, like Lady Hampton tossed one of those furry rya carpets on top of us. Then Scarlett hugs her sister, almost lifting her from the ground, then embraces the duke. “I shall have a good time. We will return when everything is done. Not a moment sooner.”

With tears in her eyes, Lady Hampton looks up to the decorated ceiling. “Have a good time, sister. Mr. Carew, take care of her.”

Scarlett curtsies, then takes my free arm. “Let’s go.”

Even if I had wanted to stay, a command from a determined woman cannot be denied. I offer a dip of my chin to her guardians.

Outside Anya House, a sad smile forms upon Scarlett’s lips. “Make this worth the trouble, Mr. Carew.”

Even with a Mrs. Cantor hovering, I’m happiest for this command. I’m taking an angel to church. I sense I’ll have a devil of a time convincing the woman on my arm we can be happy. Though Scarlett often calls me stupid, deservedly, I have clarity. I know what I want. As I help her into my carriage, I’m more determined to prove to my logical lady I can sweep her off her feet.