Page 15 of Beth: A Regency Romance Novell

“The duke will catch up with you, eventually. How do you plan to evade him?”

His face became shuttered. “None of your concern.”

“At least tell me what this is about.”

“You don’t think it’s because I want you?” he asked licking at a piece of chicken on his lips.

Revolted, she looked away. “No, I don’t.”

He chuckled. “Don’t be so sure. I’m enjoying your company.”

She would not have to endure him for much longer, she told herself desperately. He said he would let her go in the morning. But would he? Or would he kill her?

Beth sagged in her chair. William wasn’t hurt. Once Andrew discovered the truth, he would return immediately to the ball. But by the time he reached Mayfair, that would long be over. And Mrs. Grayshott, even if roused from her bed, could tell him nothing.

Chapter Five

As Marcus waited impatiently for the storm to ease, he considered Ramsey’s possible motive. He’d taken an enormous risk which could hardly have a good ending. Was he driven by uncontrollable passion? Marcus had known such men, like moths flying too close to the flame. Inevitably, they were burned. But what he knew of Ramsey seemed at odds with a man of unruly passions. Apart from the amiable persona he presented in drawing rooms, he appeared to be a rather cold and sharp-eyed fellow when Marcus had come across him playing cards at his club. Nor did Beth seem the sort of young woman who would fall under his spell and turn her back on everything she held dear. Not with such a loving family as hers.

Could Ramsey have abducted her by force? Impossible to do so under the eyes of the ton. She had gone with him willingly enough, although not entirely happily by the groom’s account.

Another crack of thunder rent the sky. Marcus leaned back against the shop wall and slapped the water from his hat. He racked his brain for some whisper of gossip he might have heard in the past. He tended to ignore most society gossip. The intrigue he faced while working for the foreign office was enough for him to deal with.

Ramsey was not known to be a man of good character. His financial trouble was common knowledge brought about by his gambling, his baronetcy, a castle in the north overlooking the Irish Sea, falling into ruin. It appeared he’d kept himself afloat playing dice in gambling hells, and spent some years on the Continent where Marcus had run into him, as had Andrew.

Might money lie behind this desperate plan? Did he intend to hold Beth’s reputation to ransom? He doubted Andrew would be so obliging, but if he did pay up, Ramsey would be foolish to believe the matter would end there. He’d be forced to leave England or be clapped in irons.

As much as Marcus tried, he still failed to come up with any reasonable explanation for the baron’s behavior. Had Andrew refused their marriage? Had that sent them rushing to the border to tie the knot in Gretna Green? He groaned. If that was the case he should be riding for Oxfordshire instead, to warn Andrew. It hardly seemed likely. Andrew had asked Marcus to take care of her at the ball when he couldn’t do so himself.

No, he couldn’t find it in himself to believe a runaway marriage was taking place. Beth had seemed too smart to be taken in by such a man. She wasn’t a flirtatious young ninny like some debutantes. Dammit, he’d liked her and sensed something special about her that greatly appealed to him, which was the main reason he was here waiting in the damp and cold, exasperated beyond endurance. He eased his tight shoulders as Zeus swished his tail and pricked up his ears, impatient to be heading back to his warm stall. Marcus shivered in his riding coat and rubbed his arms. He’d thrown his greatcoat over the horse. It was his fault after all that they were here in the cold while the endless rain and the lightning storm continued to hover overhead.

He was not ordinarily a man given to impulse. What the devil had got hold of him? Was it merely his respect for Andrew and the friendship they shared? Marcus discounted it. It was if some force greater than he could understand was guiding him.

Their dinner over, Ramsey drew Beth back to the drawing room apparently eager for their card game.

Beth grew up playing cards with her brothers. She was quite good at faro, but could she best this man? He had been drinking steadily which might aid her. She took her seat at the card table. Ramsey stoked the fire then went to a drawer of the bureau and removed some coins. He took the chair opposite her and stacked the coins in front of them. She carefully watched him shuffle the deck to make sure he didn’t deal from the bottom as Colin had once shown her how to do. But Ramsey was so arrogant and confident he could beat her, he probably wouldn’t consider it necessary.

“Since you are a guest, you may be the banker,” he said. “You know the rules, I assume?”

Beth nodded. “I played this with my brother, but it was years ago. I hope I can still remember how.” What she wouldn’t tell Ramsey was that Colin, before he left to join the Navy, spent many evenings after dinner teaching her how to count the cards. Beth could memorize the cards that had been dealt, and work out which still remained in the deck. She prayed her nerves wouldn’t rob her of that ability. Those evenings had been filled with laughter as her brothers and sisters crowded around, but now she was entirely alone, and it had never been so important.

Once she’d laid the thirteen cards out on the table in two rows, all spades, the cards were then dealt from the remaining deck.

“My card,” Beth said, placing one down.

Ramsey followed. A tense silence settled over the room as they played. Although she doubted he’d keep his word, she had to win if she had any chance of escaping unscathed.

With very few cards dealt to put her plan

into action, Beth began to lose.

“As I expected, you’re a poor opponent,” Ramsey sneered. She eyed his loose lips and the bleary look in his eyes, wondering again how she’d ever thought him attractive as he topped up his glass again from the carafe of wine he’d brought in from the dining room.

He fell silent. Beth lost more of her precious coins. She could hear her panicked breath and stilled herself to concentrate. It was like losing a piece of herself, her chances fading with the loss of each coin. She steadied and as the game progressed with only the crackle of the fire, and the clunk of the mantel clock, the ability came back to her.

Concentrating hard, she began to win, and her spirits rose.

As she stacked up some of his coins, Ramsey eyed her, surprise creasing his brow. “You have the most extraordinary luck, Elizabeth. If it is luck?”

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