Page 6 of King of Clubs (The Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society #9)

~April 9~

“A re you certain she extended her invitation to include me, Your Grace?” Gwendolyn asked as they made their way up the steps of Lady Bradmore’s home.

The Duchess of Bolton just laughed. “Yes, of course I’m sure. In fact, when we met yesterday afternoon in the park she specifically asked if you were coming. Now stop fretting, my dear, you are welcome at this dinner.”

Gwendolyn tried her best to do as she was told, but since she hadn’t actually received an invitation to the dinner the Countess was hosting before her ball that evening, she couldn’t help but be a little nervous. She supposed she just had to trust in the duchess.

The Bradmore home could not have been more stately and refined. Coming from a house where no expense was spared on furnishings and objects d’art, she could tell that the Bradmores had been wealthy for a very, very long time. The grand marble staircase gleamed in its grandeur, the mahogany railing gave off the faint smell of lemons and beeswax. The countess’s drawing room was understated but magnificent at the same time, and it made Gwendolyn feel as if her own home was brash and gaudy. This, she could feel in her bones, was the difference between nobles and those like her who worked for every penny they spent.

The duchess paused upon entering the drawing room, allowing Gwendolyn to admire the beautiful room. She leaned over to Gwendolyn and whispered, “Not at all like what we’re used to.”

“No,” Gwendolyn agreed.

“I like the understated look, but I would never replace my new scroll-back furniture with such simple stuff,” she said with a sniff before proceeding into the room.

Gwendolyn didn’t even try to hide her giggles. She followed the lady.

They enjoyed a glass of wine and the pleasant small-talk before dinner with the other esteemed guests who had also been invited to this very select dinner. Usually a lady would invite her closest friends to a special dinner before hosting a ball, but Gwendolyn didn’t know the lady and wasn’t certain that the duchess did very well either. Their presence here still baffled her.

Gwendolyn took her seat at the table and found herself between Lord Ainsby and Mr. Hershawn. “Good evening, Mr. Hershawn,” she said to the gentleman on her right.

“Good evening, Miss Sherman. How lovely to see you here tonight.”

She remembered someone having commented on the length of his hair the first time she’d met him, but now it seemed to have been cut short. She didn’t feel she knew him well enough to comment on it but did lean a little toward him and asked quietly, “Do you know how Lady Bradmore decided upon her guest list?”

He gave a little chuckle. “Have you noticed how many younger people there are?”

Gwendolyn looked around the table. Indeed, the majority of people were about her age or a little older. “No, I hadn’t, but now that you mention it, aside from the parents of some guests, everyone here is probably below the age of thirty.”

He nodded. “Lady Bradmore fancies herself a great matchmaker.”

“Oh!” Gwendolyn began to look around and really watch people. As she did so, she couldn’t help but notice the woman across from her was staring at Lord Ainsby—and he was staring back! Even as Gwendolyn watched with some surprise, the woman dropped her gaze and then slowly lifted it back up.

Goodness! She was flirting, Gwendolyn realized. Gwendolyn looked to her left. Lord Ainsby had a big grin on his face, clearly enjoying watching the young woman.

A quick glance around the table also confirmed that there were still some people who had yet to get settled in their seats. She made a spot decision and stood up. “I do hope you’ll excuse me, Mr. Hershawn.”

She quickly made her way around to the other side of the table and tapped the girl she’d been watching on her shoulder. “I’m so terribly sorry, but would you mind very much switching places with me?” she asked.

“Oh! Er, no! No, not at all.” The girl nearly jumped from her chair and walked around to sit where Gwendolyn had been.

Gwendolyn settled in her chair and looked to her right. “Oh, Mr. Teviot, how very nice to see you again,” she said to the gentleman there.

He gave her a big smile, showing her his crooked front teeth. “It is wonderful to see you .”

Gwendolyn turned to watch the girl she’d traded places with begin to giggle and flirt with Lord Ainsby. They both looked so much happier to be sitting next to each other.

“That was a very kind thing you just did,” the gentleman to her left said, capturing her attention.

“Oh, no. I just... er, I wanted to speak with Mr. Teviot. It was entirely selfish on my part,” Gwendolyn said quickly, picking up her napkin and arranging it on her lap.

“Really? So you dared the wrath of our esteemed hostess just so you could speak with a gentleman you hardly know?” he asked.

Gwendolyn turned to actually look at the gentleman. He was certainly handsome enough with his high cheekbones and strong jaw, but it was his unusual eyes which were truly arresting. They were smallish, but their shape reminded Gwendolyn of a picture she’d seen of an Indian woman. They had a very unique almond shape. Not only that, but the color—they were gold! She’d never seen anyone with gold-colored eyes before. They stood out from his dark complexion in the most striking way. Gwendolyn could feel her stomach do a flop.

Sadly, she knew his type. Handsome men knew they were irresistible and always took advantage of the fact. She’d nearly been caught in one young man’s web when she’d been at school—he’d even gone so far as to try to kiss her! If she’d been caught, she would have been expelled, and he knew it. He’d admitted to her later that he’d actually been counting on it so he could marry her, figuring her father would provide a huge dowry. Oh, no, handsome men were not to be trusted!

“How do you know how well I know Mr. Teviot?” she asked with a lift of one eyebrow.

He quirked one side of his full lips up into a half, disbelieving smile. “Judging from the way he’s been watching you, and the fact that you didn’t even notice he was sitting here before you switched places with Miss Fulton, I would say you don’t know him very well. But he is greatly looking forward to furthering your acquaintance.”

It was a remarkably astute observation. Gwendolyn quickly turned back to Mr. Teviot and, indeed, he was sitting there watching her. Gwendolyn suppressed a shiver that ran down her spine. What had she just gotten herself into?

She glanced back across the table to remind herself of what she’d done and why. She could do this. She could be nice to both the boring man on her right and the overly observant one on her left, but it was certainly going to be a very long meal.

“Well, I… er… I am looking forward to speaking with him as well.” With that she turned back to the man on her right and desperately hoped he was capable of a more interesting conversation than the one they’d had the previous day at the duchess’s at-home.

“Hmm-hmm,” she heard from her left.

She turned back to the second gentleman. “Sir, I would appreciate you keeping your observations to yourself.” This man was clearly full of himself. He was not only handsome but was being overly attentive, clever, and charming. Oh, no, she did not trust him at all. He made Gwendolyn nervous and uncomfortably antsy. And she didn’t like the way he paid such close attention to her. She practically felt smothered by his interest.

He gave her a broad smile. He had very white teeth. “I’m just trying to figure out why you would deny having done something nice.”

She had the strangest urge to press her lips to his—either that or slap that smile right off his face. She settled for rudeness. Perhaps if he stopped paying attention to her, she wouldn’t have to deal with the strange feelings he was inspiring in her. “I don’t believe it is any of your business, but I am not a nice person. I do things that please me and only what pleases me.”

“Really?” he asked, quite surprised.

Gwendolyn, herself, couldn’t believe that she’d just told him such a barefaced lie. In fact, the whole reason she was even in London was to make her father happy. She was always trying to think of others before herself, but somehow this man seemed to be crawling under her skin, and it annoyed her. “Yes, really. Now, if you would be so kind as to pay attention to the lady on your other side, so I may converse with Mr. Teviot without your rude interruption, I would appreciate it.” With that, she deliberately turned away from coming as close to cutting him as one could at a dining table.

She could hear his quiet laughter even as she pulled her lips up into a smile for the gentleman on her right.

~*~

After dinner, Gwendolyn found the duchess chatting with their hostess. They were laughing over something when she joined them and the other ladies in the drawing room for tea.

“You must tell me, Duchess, how did you become a member of the Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society?” Lady Bradmore asked. The question sounded to be one more of curiosity, kindly asked, than approbation.

The duchess merely shrugged and gave a little laugh. “Pure luck, my lady. I happened to be in the right place at the right time after accepting a very kind invitation from Lady Ayres.”

“Ah, so it is Lady Ayres whom one needs to know to become a member?” Lady Bradmore asked, this time with a touch more jealousy to her question.

“Oh, I am so sorry, my lady, but we are not accepting any new members,” the duchess said gently.

“Not even if I can bring three other ladies with me to keep the numbers even?” their hostess asked.

“I’m afraid not. I’m so sorry.” The duchess truly meant it; Gwendolyn could hear it in her voice. Clearly the countess could as well for she quickly excused herself and moved off to speak to others present.

“Your Whist Society sounds very exclusive. It’s no wonder Lady Bradmore wants to join,” Gwendolyn commented with a little laugh.

“I can’t tell you how many people we get looking to become a member of our little group. It’s almost embarrassing.”

“Do you think it’s the group they want to be a part of or merely the opportunity to play whist?” Gwendolyn asked, curious.

“I don’t know. We do have quite a reputation for having helped a number of young people to find matches, and so perhaps Lady Bradmore wants to join on that account—she is known to love matchmaking. On the other hand, we also have an excellent time playing cards. It’s a lovely opportunity to chat with friends.”

“Visiting with friends isn’t the same?”

The lady thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. “No, somehow it’s not. There’s something about playing cards, having something to occupy your hands and your mind a little. And of course, the fact that we play for secrets, and have shared so much among us, also has a great deal to do with the special bond we have developed as well.”

Gwendolyn nodded. That did make a lot of sense. But there was something teasing at the back of her mind. “May I ask where you meet?”

“Of course. It’s no secret.” She laughed at her little joke. “We meet at Lady Ayres’s home. Why?”

“Oh, no reason. I was just… nothing. Just curious.” Gwendolyn gave her a little smile.

The duchess seemed satisfied with that answer for she then asked, “How was your dinner?”

“It was fine.”

“Just fine? I saw you talking with Mr. Teviot almost the entire time.” The lady raised an interested eyebrow.

“Yes, well, that’s because the gentleman on my left was extremely rude and annoying,” Gwendolyn said, then almost immediately regretted her harsh words when the duchess’s mouth nearly dropped open in surprise.

“What? How could that be?”

“I hope he isn’t a friend of yours,” Gwendolyn said.

“Well, I always imagined he was everyone’s friend. He’s extremely popular.”

“Who is he?”

“Don’t you know? He’s the owner of Powell’s Club for Gentleman,” the duchess said as if she should have known.

“The owner of a gentleman’s club? Here? At a party—” Gwendolyn started, but she was interrupted by Miss Fulton.

“I’m so sorry. I do hope you will forgive my rudeness, but I am Letitia Fulton. I just wanted to thank you for changing places with me this evening. It was very kind of you.”

“Oh, of course! I am Gwendolyn Sherman, and may I introduce you to my sponsor, the Duchess of Bolton?” Gwendolyn asked.

The girl’s eyes widened, and she immediately dropped down into a low curtsey. “Your Grace. I do beg your pardon.”

The duchess chuckled. “I am not royalty, Miss Fulton, you don’t need to treat me as such.” She turned to Gwendolyn and said, “I was wondering why you switched places.”

“She did it for me out of such kindness,” Miss Fulton told her.

Gwendolyn just shook her head. “I noticed that Miss Fulton and Lord Ainsby were watching each other from across the table. I thought that perhaps they would prefer to be next to each other. I didn’t mind being next to Mr. Teviot, so I suggested we switch. It was nothing, really.”

“I did so want to have a chance to speak with His Lordship. I hope you enjoyed Mr. Teviot’s company?” the girl asked sweetly.

“I did. Absolutely,” Gwendolyn lied. She was getting better at this. Maybe she would do well this Season after all.