Page 15 of The Marquess's Scandalous Game
“Your knees must be perfectly straight, not bent in the slightest degree. The weight of the body should be thrown equally on both legs. In short, Miss Corbett, your footing must be firm, yet at the same time easy and springy, and the more natural it is, the more likely it is to possess these qualities,” he said as he appraised her.
“I believe I have managed that quite well, my lord.”
“You have indeed. Next, I will show you how to string a bow.”
Emma was quite pleased with herself but realized she was moving to a more challenging stage.
“Now take the bow by the handle in the left hand and place the horn of the other end in the hollow of the left foot; then put the palm of the right …” He was animated as he explained, and she saw that he took pleasure in showing her. Her skin tingled under his scrutiny as she mimicked his actions.
Lord Adlington flashed her a winning smile as he acknowledged her progress. “The act of notching the arrow to the bowstring is known as ‘nocking.’”
This was much more challenging than Emma thought it would be, and she bit her lip in concentration. It would take a bit of power for her thumb and forefinger to bend the bow and string it simultaneously. Lord Adlington could see that she was struggling to accomplish this. While she held on to the bow and arrow, he came up behind her, and with both hands on hers, he revealed how she should do it.
Emma could feel the heat of his powerful chest and manly physique, yet only his hand touched hers; otherwise, he was at a respectable distance. Emma’s heart pounded in her ears. The marquess had not let go of her when the bow was strung. Instead, he continued to provide her with instructions. His whisper to the side of her ear and his hot breath was like a caress. He firmly positioned her left shoulder towards the target, instructing her to turn her head only from the neck and look over it.
Emma’s breathing had grown shallow, and she lost all sense of time and a mark of consciousness as his nearness wreaked havoc on her. Lord Adlington’s voice jolted her back to the matter at hand. “When the arrow is fully drawn, dwell for a moment or two to steady your aim; then discharge the arrow by allowing the string to pass smoothly over the finger points without jerking … like this.”
Off the arrow went before he removed his hands from hers. She felt bereft, as though she had lost something. Lord Adlington stepped backward but remained close, and Emma turned to face him. Her gaze was immediately drawn to his perfectly shaped mouth that blew hot air on her skin.
What would it be like if you kissed me?
As if he heard her thought, they both faltered into a silence that engulfed them.
She lifted her gaze to his, aware that her cheeks heated. “I quite enjoyed that, my lord. I was not expecting your tutoring to be so intimate, but it was illuminating, and I would like more.”
Lord Adlington gazed into her eyes, probing. She wondered what he sought to find there.
“Whatever you wish, my dear, Miss Corbett.”
His dear. Her stomach clenched and she chastised herself. Whatever happened to the levelheaded young lady of yesterday?
Another month had passedsince Leopold started courting Miss Corbett. He was enjoying her company, and he was sure it was reciprocated. Nevertheless, Miss Corbett would not commit to marriage. As a matter of fact, she would not discuss it. Whenever he raised the matter of taking their courtship further, she deftly changed the subject.
Only then did he realize she truly did not intend to marry him. Miss Corbett did not know that he would always triumph. He would have her by whatever means necessary.
Leopold went to see her father once more, and he was ushered into the library. After they exchanged pleasantries, he regarded Buckden with a level gaze.
“You asked for a private audience, my lord,” Buckden said.
“I will get straight to the point, Buckden. It has come to my attention that you have had a bout of bad luck with gambling lately.”
Lord Buckden rested his glass on the table, and his hand remained there. Wide eyes gazed back at Leopold.
“I beg your pardon?”
To the baron’s credit, his voice did not betray his surprise. But Leopold saw his eyes shift. His next question let Leopold know that he decided not to give anything away.
“Of what do you speak, Lord Adlington?”
Leopold stilled. Apparently, Buckden wanted him to spell it out, so he must oblige. “I refer to gambling debts, Buckden, and a considerable one at that. I refer to the fact your estates have no money. I refer to the fact that you are broke.”
Lord Buckden was no longer unphased. He blanched. Leopold thought Buckden would be ill right there on the table. It always amazed Leopold when reckless men hid from the consequences of their actions, delaying the inevitable. Paying gambling debts was unavoidable. If one buried one’s head in the sand, the debt would not magically pay itself. A day of reckoning was inescapable, and Buckden’s expression told Leopold that he knew his day had arrived.
Leopold’s inquiries had uncovered the full extent of the baron’s folly. Gambling had become an obsession for Buckden. He wagered on the races, cards, and cockfighting birds. Evidently, he was not particular, and he had a voracious appetite. Buckden could not control himself. Mr. Lloyd’s report showed Buckden had thrown his money away in all directions. Fortune had not favored the baron, hence the predicament he now found himself in. Leopold viewed gambling as a corruption, and this illustrated it well. Card games and races were harmless pastimes until the stakes were introduced. Then it became something else entirely.
Buckden frequented the notorious Crockford’s St James’s Club gaming den. There were several hundred peers, nobles, and gentlemen who were members. Leopold understood what happened in London’s most scandalous and abominable establishment. It was an open secret. Many men, with small orlarge fortunes and brilliant prospects, were immolated upon the infernal altar of aristocratic pandemonium.
Crockford’s chewed them up and spit them out with devastating consequences. When the feckless had lost it all and they could not face the shame, many would commit suicide. There were others who resorted to dishonorable means in acts of desperation, such as perpetrating forgeries and endeavoring to regain what they had lost. They shared the same fate as many others but in the form of an executioner. Unfortunately, they ended their days on the scaffold.
