Page 22 of King of Clubs (The Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society #9)

G wendolyn walked out of Powell’s club in a daze. She had no idea what had just happened!

Lord Wickford… he’d kissed her. Kissed her!

She needed to do something, to talk to someone, to figure this out! Luckily her horse was being brought around just as she’d requested earlier. Goodness, she’d nearly forgotten she had a date with the twins to go riding in the park that afternoon. A quick visit before they headed out was definitely called for! Within a quarter of an hour, she was being admitted into Bee’s home, and a few minutes after that, she dropped dramatically onto her sofa.

“You are going to tell me what you are doing,” Bee informed her. There was no hello, none of the usual niceties. Gwendolyn didn’t engage in any and neither did Bee. They didn’t need to. “We aren’t supposed to meet for our ride with Bel for another half-hour.”

Gwendolyn sat up and faced her friend. “Lord Wickford kissed me.”

“What?” Bee jumped to her feet, the book that had been on her lap falling to the floor forgotten.

“He kissed me!”

“What did you do? When was this? Where were you? Tell me everything!” Bee said, moving over to sit next to Gwendolyn on the sofa. “No! No, wait. If you tell me now and Bel finds out, she’ll kill both of us. Can you wait? She should be here soon.”

Gwendolyn nodded, lying back against the sofa, her hand dramatically draped across her eyes, trying to sort everything out in her mind.

Luckily, they didn’t need to wait the full half-hour. Bel arrived not ten minutes later.

“All right now, tell us what happened?” Bee said the moment her sister walked through the door.

“What happened? Where? To whom?” Bel asked, running up and sitting across from Bee and Gwendolyn, looking at them expectantly.

Gwendolyn very briefly told the twins the entire situation.

“He knows?” Bee whispered in horror when Gwendolyn got to the part where Lord Wickford had walked into the kitchen.

Gwendolyn gave a nod and went on with her story. By the end, both Bel and Bee’s mouths were hanging open.

They closed them simultaneously with a snap. “How do you feel about this? I thought you didn’t like him. I mean, you’ve been so rude to him at times,” Bee asked.

“Because he’s incredibly annoying! No man should be that good looking, that kind, that well-liked and charming, and… and… Perfect!” Gwendolyn could hardly keep herself from screaming she was so frustrated with the man.

Both girls grinned at her.

“No! Don’t smile at me like that. He really drives me insane! I don’t see how everyone can like a man that perfect,” Gwendolyn argued.

“But you do,” Bee pointed out needlessly.

Gwendolyn dropped her face into her hands. “I do,” she said through her fingers. She looked up. “What am I going to do?”

“Well, you did kiss him back,” Bel pointed out.

“I did,” Gwendolyn sighed. Her gaze shot up to meet Bel’s. “I shouldn’t have. I will never, ever do so again. I do not like that man!”

“Um… we just established that you did,” Bee pointed out.

“Well, I don’t.” Gwendolyn got up and began to pace. “He is presumptuous and too perfect.” She would not allow herself to be taken in by that man. She would not allow herself to even like him. She couldn’t. She would harden her heart to him and never let him through, no matter how sweet his kisses.

“And he knows your secret,” Bel added.

That stopped Gwendolyn’s pacing. “Oh my God! He knows my secret! If he tells anyone….”

“I’m certain he won’t. I’m sure he knows lots of secrets. He does own a club where men routinely get drunk and probably spill their secrets all the time,” Bee said.

Gwendolyn started to breathe again. “I hope you’re right!”

“You might say something the next time you see him,” she suggested gently.

Gwendolyn just nodded, then quickly changed the direction of her head so that she was shaking it. “No. No, I can’t see him. I would be so embarrassed! What would I say?”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. He’s the one who kissed you!” Bel exclaimed.

“Yes, that’s true.” Gwendolyn sat back down, feeling a little calmer.

“It’s a good thing you don’t actually like him, though,” Bee said, clearly beginning to think about this.

Gwendolyn just looked to her.

“I’m sure your father would not be happy if you married a businessman. He specifically brought you here to marry a nobleman, one with holdings and prestige, who takes his seat in parliament and all that,” Bee said.

Gwendolyn sagged. “Yes. You’re right. Even if I did like Lord Wickford, he is not the right man for me. He is a nobleman, but he’s a businessman too, and my father would not like that. Not at all.” Why, after all this, was her stomach beginning to cramp now? This was good news. She couldn’t even consider marrying Lord Wickford. “Good. Good. Thank you for the reminder.” She pulled her lips up into a smile. “You’re both such good friends!”

~May 7 ~

Joshua crumpled up the piece of paper in front of him and threw it toward the fireplace. It didn’t even come close to reaching it, but that was all right. There wasn’t even a fire burning in the grate, so it made no difference. It had been his third attempt at writing a note of apology to Miss Sherman, and he still hadn’t gotten it right.

How did one apologize for kissing a girl? It was simply too awkward. Too strange. It had been too wonderful to apologize for.

But no! Miss Sherman was not the woman he needed to marry. Not only that, but she’d stolen his chef! He was still annoyed at that.

So, what had driven him to kissing her? To even inviting her back to his office to be in a position to allow such intimacy?

Oh yes, he was still shaking his head over that one. The problem was, he saw himself in her machinations. She was acting exactly the way any businessman would—doing anything and everything to get one step ahead of the competition and ensuring her business succeeded. He’d done the very same thing when he’d first started Powell’s.

Joshua laughed as he remembered all that he’d done to make sure that he not only had the greatest chef, but an excellent sommelier, and the best footmen to staff Powell’s. No, he could not fault Miss Sherman for stealing his chef, no matter how much it hurt him. But he should not have allowed himself to get so carried away that he took advantage of the girl.

He pulled forward another piece of paper, dipped his pen, and began again.

Dear Miss Sherman,

I wish to apologize for my completely inappropriate behavior yesterday. I should never have taken such liberties and assure you…

But could he? Could he really assure her it would never happen again? It had been all he could think about the entire night. He’d woken up more than once in the night, hot and needy, thinking of her. He’d deliberately schooled his thoughts back to Miss Hanslow, picturing the young woman in his mind’s eye—her brown hair, her blue eyes, her pouty little mouth, and strong chin. That had cooled him down immediately.

He looked down at his note and continued writing.

“…it will never happen again.”

He was tempted to underline never but refrained, not wanting to hurt the girl’s feelings—if she even had any. Honestly, never in his life had anyone ever be so rude and unpleasant to him as this girl. He didn’t even know what had come over him that had him pressing his lips to hers. He didn’t like her. She didn’t like him! No, thank goodness, there would be absolutely nothing more between them.

“I am most sincerely…”

He signed his name. There, that should do it. It wasn’t too much, it might have bordered on too little, but truly, long-winded explanations were not going to help any—those had been his first three attempts. Hopefully this would be just right.

He folded the paper carefully, locking the pieces in place with the creases. With a sigh of relief that this was done, he got up and strode out of his office, handing the note to his footman on his way out the door. “See that this is delivered to Miss Gwendolyn Sherman,” he told the man. He paused to straighten his neckcloth. One difficult job done, he was off to face another.

“Is Lord Hanslow at home?” Joshua asked the footman who answered the door at the Hanslow residence. He handed over his calling card.

The man took a glance at it before stepping back to allow Joshua to enter. After showing him into a formal drawing room on the ground floor, he said, “Just one moment, my lord, and I’ll see if he is available.”

Joshua wandered the room, taking in all the little ceramic figurines. The room was filled with them. There were large ones taking up most of a table and teeny little fussy ones all in a cluster on a little writing desk. He didn’t dare pick one up for fear he would drop it; his hands were sweating.

“Lord Wickford, this is a surprise,” Lord Hanslow said, coming into the room.

Joshua spun around to bow to the gentleman. He was dressed in a green coat with a pale-green and red brocade waistcoat and a green neckcloth. The affect was a little bilious.

“Good afternoon, my lord. I was wondering if we could have a word?” Joshua asked, coming forward.

“Of course.” The man indicated the gold sofa, and Joshua took a seat.

“I, er, I’m not certain if you were aware, my lord,” Joshua started. “I have been honored with your daughter’s company on more than one occasion. We’ve been driving in the park, have danced a number of times, and…”

“And I believe you’ve even been here a few times to visit. Yes, I am very well aware.” The man peered at Joshua as if he were seeing straight through him.

Joshua swallowed and then forced a smile onto his face. He took a deep breath. “I have enjoyed her company a great deal and would like your permission to court her.” There, that was out.

Lord Hanslow sat back in his chair, steepling his fingers together. “My lord, you own a club.”

“Yes, I do. I also own a small estate near Dover, a plantation in the West Indies, and have not completely ruled out taking my seat in Parliament,” Joshua told him.

“And your parents?”

Joshua blinked. “My parents?”

“Your father was… he wasn’t born into the nobility. He inherited the title from a distant cousin, from what I understand.”

“Yes. That is correct, my lord. He immediately left his plantation and came here to England, bringing me with him. I went to school here.”

“And your mother? I understand she is here now too? Recently arrived?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“There are rumors that she is some sort of princess?”

“Yes, my lord. Her father was the king of his people in Africa. My father traveled to West Africa as a young man, they fell in love, and married.” He didn’t see that any of this was Lord Hanslow’s business. On the other hand, if he had a daughter, he would want to know everything he could about the man who asked to court her.

Lord Hanslow nodded. “Highly unusual, don’t you agree, my lord?”

“I suppose so, my lord. But there it is.” Joshua didn’t know what else to say. “I am simply asking to court your daughter, sir. I realize that is just one small step away from marriage, but—”

“I will think about it, Lord Wickford,” the man said, interrupting him. He stood forcing Joshua to do the same. “I look forward to seeing you around town.”

He was being dismissed. Joshua had no choice but to bow and take his leave. As he got back up onto his phaeton, he wondered whether the man would actually allow him to court his daughter. He had no inkling of whether he would be granted permission. It was odd, but at least he’d been heard, and Lord Hanslow was thinking about it. It was better than an outright no, which, considering his unusual background, had been a distinct possibility.

~*~

Gwendolyn didn’t know whether she wanted to burn the note Lord Wickford had sent her, rip it up into tiny little shreds, or press it into her diary and save it as a reminder of what an awful, awful man he was. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to suffer his attentions ever again. This was good news.

Phooey, where was her handkerchief when she needed it?

~May 10 ~

Joshua lifted the glass of rum in his hand and looked around his drawing room at his friends gathered there. His mother had graciously retired to her room for the evening with a book after dinner. Now it was only him, Welles, Colburne, Warwick, and Rossburke—the men he considered his closest friends. He suspected he should have invited Aldridge, Conway, and St. Vincent as well, but he wasn’t sure just how many people he wanted to let in on his secret.

“Gentlemen, a toast, if you please,” Joshua said, recalling everyone’s attention.

The men quieted and turned toward him, lifting their glasses.

“To this fine rum. May we meet once again in the not-too-distant future.”

“What do you mean by that, Wickford?” Welles asked with a laugh.

“What I mean is that this is the last of my rum. After this, only ordinary liquors will be served at Powell’s,” he told them.

“What? How could that be?” Colburne exclaimed.

He’d already told Warwick and Jamie about his predicament. They were sitting there nodding and looking glum. “The ship carrying my mother here to England was also carrying the next shipment of rum from my plantation. It is now all sitting at the bottom of the ocean.”

“Thank goodness your mother isn’t there as well,” Colburne exclaimed.

“To Lady Wickford, long may she live in safety and peace!” Rossburke said, lifting his glass.

“Hear, hear!” the men all said.

Joshua could only shake his head. “I am more grateful that she was saved than you can possibly imagine—”

“We can imagine!” Welles interrupted.

“But it is a problem that the rum could not be rescued, and something I have to figure out how to deal with, which is why I asked you all here tonight. I need your help,” Joshua said, taking his seat. “Ever since it was opened, Powell’s has been known for its rum. It’s what made my club stand out from the rest. Its special caché. Now, with no more rum… Powell’s is just like any other gentlemen’s club. There is nothing to keep the members from abandoning it for Brooke’s, White’s, or any of the other clubs in the area. I need something to keep my clientele happy.” He paused and smiled as he remembered his conversation with Miss Sherman, and how clever she’d been and confused, at how he could not have seen what, to her, had been obvious. She was too intelligent for her own good. “It has been pointed out to me that what I need is another type of liquor that is unique to serve. I put it to you to help me figure out what that is,” Joshua finished.