A Wager for Love Page 3

  "Well, Lavinia, no matter how much it is, you deserve it. None better," declared Lady Elizabeth stoutly. "Living closeted away like a nun, and in a strange country as well."

  Lavinia laughed. "It was not quite as bad as that, cousin. Rome is a beautiful city, and my grandmother did entertain, although I own I sometimes longed for a few younger faces." She wrinkled her nose ruefully. "But still, she was very good to me, especially when our father remarried. His wife did not want a step-daughter on her hands. Certainly not one only half a score years younger than herself."

  Lady Elizabeth put a plump, soft white hand over Lavinia’s. "Oh, my dear, I have never ceased to reproach myself. If only I had known, but of course Cedric was alive

  then. . . ."

  Lavinia returned her smile fondly. "You have been all kindness, cousin." She turned briskly to Richard. "That is all in the past now. Our father is dead and Richard head of the family."

  Richard gave her a speaking look. He was undeserving of such good fortune. Until she had gone to Rome he and Lavinia had been very close. Many the whipping she had saved him from, and many a cold supper she had sneaked up to him when he had been banished for some boy’s prank. And now this. He had been full of such plans. To bring her to London, give her a season, and all the things she had missed. Of course, she never complained, but it was time she had some pleasure from life‑perhaps she might even find a husband. Although, to be sure, Richard was none too sanguine about that. If only she had had a respectable portion. He heaved a sigh. He was the worst wretch alive. The Dowager’s fortune might have been sufficient to secure Lavinia a most exceptional match‑and here she was planning to use it to pay his debts.

  "Richard," Lavinia was eyeing him quizzically, "I was just telling Elizabeth that I have an appointment to see Hoare’s, our grandmother's bankers this morning, and I was originally going to say nothing until I had returned." There was a decided twinkle in her eye. "I fear you have been taxing yourself as to how you may best settle my future."

  He blushed a little, but did not deny it. "Still, we can see what may best be done in that quarter once we know how much money there is, so I shall say no more on that head."

  Richard choked, "I cannot allow you to do this, Lavinia."

  She rapped him lightly on the knuckles with her fan. "Don’t be so ridiculous. You are my brother, Richard. It might as well go to you as to my husband, should I ever have one. Besides," she added, "You cannot stop me."

  Lady Elizabeth clapped her hands in delight. "My dears, it is the very solution. I declare 'tis better than a plot at Drury Lane

  ."

  "Oh, cousin." Lavinia hugged her impulsively as she and Richard exchanged amused glances.

  Relieved to see her young relatives smiling once again, she bustled about Full of plans for their entertainment, or more specifically for Lavinia's entertainment. "Lavinia, we have cards for Lady Fitzallen's ball tonight. You must wear that green satin we purchased, 'tis most becoming."

  Lavinia smiled a trifle ruefully, "Indeed I shall, cousin, I for I have nothing else in my wardrobe, and if everything is as costly as that was, I fear I never shall."

  "Costly!" Lady Elizabeth's eyebrows arched in ludicrous amaze. "Lud, child, ‘twas nothing." Lady Elizabeth's nature was not of a particularly brooding one. To her the matter of Richard’s debts was settled most satisfactorily.

  Richard, himself, did not feel quite so happy. He was very reluctant to allow his sister to give up her fortune, always supposing it was sufficient. However, he was also conscious of a feeling of relief. Until he had been faced with the possibility of losing them, he had not realised how much the lands and home of, his ancestors meant to him. Of course, he had been sorry to learn of the death of his father and his young wife in a carriage accident, but since their marriage he had grown apart from his father, and he was honest enough to admit to a small feeling of pleasure when he thought on his inheritance. Indeed, he was fast coming to the conclusion that London was not for him. He tried to put these feelings into words, but Lavinia made light of his protests only hugging him quickly when he called her "dearest and best of sisters," her eyes suspiciously moist.

  "Never fear, Richard, I shall see that a draft is sent to this man the moment we know the amount I have inherited. Give me his direction and I shall instruct Hoare’s."

  Richard's face tell. "I fear I was so distraught. I never thought to ask."

  "Well, don’t worry," she replied comiortingly, "The heir to an Earldom you say, you may be sure every chairman in London will know him."

  Not for one moment was she going to advise her relatives of the plan which had been taking shape in her mind from the moment Richard had appraised her of his misfortune. She was going to deliver the draft herself and give this creature, who robbed young children scarcely out of the schoolroom, a few pithy opinions on his behaviour. My Lord would get his money, and he would also get a piece of her mind at the same time.

  Richard and Lady Elizabeth saw the firm little chin harden and the grey eyes flash. "My love . . began Lady Elizabeth uneasily,

  Lavinia turned, smiling sweetly, "Yes, cousin?"

  "Oh, it is nothing. It was just that for a second you looked ..." She swallowed hurriedly. "That is . . . But there, I was imagining it. just a trick of the sunlight and no more."

  Lavinia said nothing.

  * * *

  By the time Lavinia had donned her cloak and bonnet, the atmosphere in the breakfast room had lightened considerably. Having repeatedly refused Richard's earnest otters to escort her, she left him whistling tunelessly under his breath as he consumed a breakfast, which only half. an hour ago he had felt totally unable to face.

  3

  Lavinia stepped into Lady Elizabeth’s smart town carriage, the cost of which had made even that intrepid spender blench a little, and with a deft flick of his whip, the postilion urged the horses forward. Half an hour later he was setting Lavinia down outside Hoare’s imposing building. Ignoring the disapproving look he gave her, she firmly dismissed him, rejecting his suggestion that he walk the horses outside the bank until she had completed her business. Forestalling the arguments she saw trembling on his lips, she instructed him, "If Lady Elizabeth should enquire for me, you may tell her I may be a couple of hours."

  Since this was contrary to his instructions, which had been to set Miss down outside the bank, wait tor her, and then convey her back to Lady Eli2abeth's house, he pondered for a few seconds, chewing thoughtfully on his tobacco, whilst he martialled his thoughts. However, before he could utter another word, Lavinia had tripped firmly up the steps and disappeared from sight. As she entered the Bank, cool and dim after the bright sunshine of the street, Lavinia admitted to herself’ a reeling of’ extreme nervousness, and would even have welcomed Lady Elizabeth's frivolous presence.

  Her footsteps seemed abnormally loud on the tiled floor as she approached the clerk, clutching her reticule, in which reposed the all-important letter from the late Dowager Countess’s man of business. At first the clerk affected not to notice her, fiddling busily with his ledgers.

  She coughed gently. "Er, excuse me, could I see Mr. Hoare, please?" she asked, a little nervously.

  The clerk’s eyebrows threatened to disappear into his wig. He put down his quill with great deliberation, glancing repressively at her. "I’m sorry, Miss . . .?"

  "My name is Miss Lavinia Davenham, the Dowager Countess of. . ."

  The frown disappeared with miraculous speed, the doleful face broke into a smile. "Ah, yes, of course . . .Just one moment, Miss Davenham, I shall enquire if Mr. Hoare is free to see you. Please take a seat."

  He indicated the chairs grouped uninvitingly round a stout table, bristling with inkstands, quills and important looking headed notepaper. She sat down carefully and immediately wished she had not as the leather creaked noisily. She glanced round hurriedly. However, no-one was paying the slightest attention. "Don’t be so foolish." she admonished herself, "There is nothing to be frightene
d of." But despite this stiff counselling. she could not help feeling relieved when. after what seemed like an age, the clerk reappeared.

  "Ahem. lf you will just come this way, Miss Davenham."

  A few minutes later she was being ushered into a well-appointed office and greeted by a jovial, fatherly man, completely at variance with her own ideas of a shrewd and successful banker.

  "Ah, Miss Davenham, pray allow me to introduce myself, I am Jonathon Hoare," He shook his head. "I had the pleasure of knowing your grandmother quite well, before

  she went to live in Rome of course." He removed his glasses, polishing them carefully, all the while watching his young visitor speculatively. A Davenham all right, one look was enough to tell him that, and with her grandmother's spirit unless he was very much mistaken. To be sure she was not dressed in the first stare or fashion, as one would suppose a young lady other birth to be, but Jonathon Hoare could find nothing strange in these circumstances. His knowledge or the late Dowager Countess's family was extensive. Indeed he had been privy to the making of the Will. His glasses cleaned to his satisfaction, he resumed the conversation.

  "Miss Davenham. I take it you have received a letter from Laidlaw, the late Dowager's man of business."

  Lavinia, normally cool and composed, round herself answering a little hesitantly. "Yes, I did hear from him. He writes that my grandmother has left me her entire fortune. I was so surprised. or course, I don't know just how much money is involved," she finished a little doubtfully.

  The banker placed the tips of his fingers together and eyed her calmly. Naturally he was perfectly cognisant with the extent of the Countess's fortune. Indeed, he had had many persons of quality sitting before him in that very chair, but very few quite as wealthy as this particular young lady. The Dowager had invested her money well, and had quadrupled the amount she had inherited from her own father. Even Jonathon Hoare himself had been surprised when he knew the full amount involved. He sighed a little. "Well, Miss Davenham. I can tell you there is quite a considerable sum involved."

  "How much?"

  Controlling his surprise at such a point-blank question, he tilted his chair back a little to get a better view of Miss Davenham. Normally it took his customers quite a time to work their way round to this all important question. In one particular, at least, he had not been wrong; Miss Davenham was clearly cast in the same mould as her grandmother.

  "Er, let me see now." He knew to the exact penny how much money was involved, but years of experience had taught him always to be cautious. "Let me see. Umm. I think, in round figures of course, you understand." He pursed his lips thoughtfully, whilst Lavinia clung tensely to the edge of her chair. So much depended on the sum of money there was. He looked down at the papers on his desk, jotted down a few calculations, and then raising his head said gravely, "Something in the region of two hundred thousand pounds, I believe."

  Unable to hide her relief, Lavinia leant forward, "So much! Oh no. Surely you must be wrong." Another thought, a good deal less pleasant suddenly struck her. "Oh dear, my uncle." She put her hand to her mouth. "Has . . .has my grandmother left him anything?"

  The banker shook his head gravely. "No, indeed the Will was most explicit. Every penny to you, my dear."

  He sighed a little. He had spent a most trying afternoon with the Countess’s son, when her ladyship had died. His Lordship, despite his handsome house in the country, his wife’s fortune, and his own title, had not been pleased to learn that his mother had seen fit to bestow the entire sum of her wealth on his younger brother’s child. There had been a good deal of striding about the room, thumping on the banker’s desk, and some unpleasant talk about senile old women, before Mr. Hoare had been able to convince him of the legality of the document. He pondered for a moment on the particularly unpleasant attitude My Lord had taken when acquainted with the definite legality of the will, and then banishing him from his mind turned back to the young girl, who was watching him with dazed eyes. "There, my dear, I should not worry too much about your uncle. I understand he has left town for his estates."

  There was a brief comprehensive silence. Mr. Hoare smiled kindly at Lavinia. "Now, my dear, you can safely leave things to me and, of course, your late grandmother’s lawyer. I trust you will be happy with such an arrangement." He glanced at his watch. It had been along morning; he had arranged to meet a business acquaintance in the coffee house, and the day was already well advanced.

  Lavinia saw, and correctly interpreted his look. It was time to make her request. "There is just one thing before I leave."

  "Yes, my dear," he replied genially.

  "I shall need seventy thousand guineas."

  The banker swallowed, wondering if he had heard correctly. However, one look at the set face before him was sufficient to dispel any notions that he had been mistaken. "Er, you did say seventy thousand?"

  Lavinia inclined her head wordlessly.

  "I see, a matter of utmost urgency, I collect?" Mr. Hoare had not been a banker to the nobility for fifty years without learning to recognise gaming debts when he saw them. But this girl. For the first time he began to doubt the wisdom of the Countess's will. Seventy thousand guineas. It was not to be thought of. He shrugged to himself and rang the bell on his desk. Within seconds the door opened to admit the clerk who Lavinia had seen earlier.

  "NaturaIly, you will need a draft. To carry such a large amount in gold would not be safe. Besides, it would scarcely fit in your reticule." he added dryly. "Now, Simpson, I want a draft on Miss Davenham’s account for seventy thousand guineas." The banker turned back to Lavinia. "To whom is it to be made payable my dear?"

  Lavinia thought quickly. "No-one, I shall require it to be blank."

  Seeing his clerk’s eyes fixed on Miss Davenham with awed fascination, the banker amended, "A blank draft, Simpson." He was beginning to see more of the late Dowager in her grand-daughter with every passing minute. When the clerk returned with the draft, he handed it to Lavinia without another word, giving her his arm and carefully escorting her from the room.

  Once free of the bank, Lavinia heaved a sigh of relief, blushing a little as she recalled certain shrewd and assessing glances cast at her by the banker. Still she had the draft. That was the main thing, and now for the second part of her mission. Squaring her shoulders, cheeks flushed, but head held high, she signalled to a couple of chairmen, addressing the first man to step forward in slightly hesitant tones. "I wish to have the direction of the man who is the heir to the Earl of Saltaire, do you know it?"

  She waited anxiously for his reply.

  If the chairman found it strange that a young lady, completely unescorted, should be enquiring as to the address of such a notable personage, he did not betray it. He pushed his wig back and pondered for a moment. "Saltaire, you say. I dunno, I’m new to these 'ere parts."

  Lavinia’s heart sank. or all the misfortunes, for her to pick a chairman who was unfamiliar with the City. However, help was quickly forthcoming. The other bearer stepped forward to see what the delay was. "What’s that you say, Miss?" he asked. "Saltaire? Aye, it’s all right, Charlie, I knows where it is." He winked knowingly at his companion. "In you gets, Miss. We’ll have you there in a trice. Aye and we won't charge you more than six-pence. It isn’t every day we get such a pretty face."

  Blushing fiercely, Lavinia climbed into the box. She was still not used to the free and easy ways of the Londoners. In Rome the distinctions between the classes had been clear cut and strictly adhered to. For a few moments the chair bumped uncomfortably over the cobbles. At last it came to a standstill, and the chair was set down. The chairman banged on the roof. "Here we are, Miss, that’s it, over there."

  She followed the direction of his pointing finger. They were in Grosvenor Square

  and the house they had stopped outside of was a large and extremely grim-looking mansion.

  Gathering up her skirts she tossed the man a shilling, and feeling more than a little nervous walked determinedly up
to the door. The footman who opened the door to her imperious knock, gaped at her open-mouthed. He had been long enough in his present Master's service to know that the type of women he favoured were not the ones who made a habit of visiting gentlemen in their own homes, unless under cover of dark. He gave the visitor one startled look, torn between embarrassment and fear, should his Master learn that he had admitted an importuning female to the house. Unfortunately for him, he tried to rectify what he thought to be his mistake by closing the door in Lavinia's outraged face. Her temper roused by this treatment, Lavinia adopted her most efficient manner, which had quelled even the most voluble of Italians, and demanded icily to be taken to his Master, and at that instant. Although only a little above five feet, and as slender as a willow, she could, when the occasion demanded, be extremely determined. The ensuing altercation was sufficient to bring the formidable butler from his sitting room, where he had been having a most pleasant chat with the housekeeper over a glass of his Master’s best wine. None too pleased at the interruption he sailed into the hall, quelling and dignified. One look was sufficient to assure him that the lady, whatever she might be, was not one of My Lord's lovebirds. A second look appraised him of the fact