The Lady's Gamble: A Historical Regency Romance Book

“Do you like to read?” Regina asked. She felt desperate to change the subject. She hated the way the lines on Lord Harrison’s face deepened and his eyes darkened as he thought of his father. She was sure she looked the same when she thought about Mother.

“A bit.” Lord Harrison’s lips twisted upward into a wry smile. “Not as much as I should, and not as much as you, I’m sure.”

“If you let me alone in here I should never leave,” Regina admitted with a smile.

“Then we should probably continue the tour before I lose you here forever.”

She felt her smile broaden and she had to hold in a laugh. Lord Harrison held out his arm for her to take as though they were at a park rather than his house. That made her want to laugh even more.

Regina took his arm and let him lead her through the last room. They had done a circuit now, and through the other door she could see the foyer.

This room was decorated in cream and silver with hints of green. It was a proper sitting room. There was a pianoforte in one corner. In another sat a writing desk. There was another, smaller fireplace on the outside wall.

“My mother used to welcome friends in here,” Lord Harrison observed. “Father would be in the library while she was chatting away. The other parlor was used for cards or sweets after dinner.”

“I quite like it.”

“I should show you the upstairs rooms if I did not think it rude,” Lord Harrison said. He winked at her and Regina found herself blushing. “There are four bedrooms. All in different shades of blue.”

“They sound lovely.”

“Well.” Lord Harrison checked his pocket watch. “That took us ten minutes’ time. Compare that to Whitefern. My housekeeper enjoys giving tours. It takes at least two hours. More if you let her rattle on. One time a poor family was stuck there for six hours. They were too polite to ask her to move things along.”

Regina laughed. “If I ever see it, I shall ask you to give the tour then. You are rather brief.”

“Didn’t you know? Men are supposed to be brief. I’ve been told it’s one of the failings of our sex.”

Regina had to hold in a snort at that. She’d heard Elizabeth say something similar many a time.

“Since the library was your favorite, why don’t we retire in there. I can have some tea brought up and we can discuss your reason for visiting.”

Regina nodded. She’d like that very much.

They settled themselves in the library. Lord Harrison had a fire made up and sure enough tea was brought. Lady Cora seized upon a book and informed them she would be in the sitting room, where the light was better. “The doorway is open,” she warned Lord Harrison, as if he were going to try and rob Regina or something while Lady Cora’s back was turned.

Regina was secretly glad that Lady Cora was giving them some distance. She seemed to assume that private family matters would be discussed, such as where Lord Harrison had been all this time. That suited Regina just fine.

Lord Harrison sat down and turned to face her. The playful light faded from his eyes and his voice grew somber.

“Now,” he said. “Your letter was quite mysterious.”

“Says the man that nobody knows anything about. Two people told me you had a secret wife. Another said you had engaged in piracy.”

“I fear everyone is making me into someone much more exciting than I actually am.”

“But I do hope one rumor is true: that you are a devil with cards.”

Lord Harrison blinked as if surprised. “Yes. That is.”

Regina waited. Lord Harrison seemed poised on the edge of something. It was like he was standing on a cliff and considering jumping off.

After a moment, he spoke.

“I am rather mysterious, as you say. But I can promise you most would prefer half-baked rumors to solid facts. At least where I am concerned.

“My father was terrible with business. He squandered all of our fortune. When he died this London house was all we had. Whitefern was ours in name only. It was gutted. Empty. Everything had been sold off. Only my mother’s love of this place kept it safe. Father wouldn’t bargain it for anything.

“When he died I was told to sell this house and use the money to invest what I could. The bankers were quite insistent. In time, they said, I could slowly rebuild Whitefern’s glory. But what good is a Duke without income? Destitute nobility are worse than a pauper. A pauper has many ways of earning his wages. A noble has but few.

“If I had pursued normal means it would have taken my entire life to rebuild my family name and fortune. But I saw another way. I was brilliant with cards in school. I even got into fights because the boys thought I was cheating. The professors sent letters home to my parents about it.

“I knew the kind of money that was spent at the tables at balls. I thought that through these means I could obtain the necessary capital. I’d make more money and faster. And, I admit, part of my motivation was preserving this house. It was my mother’s pride and joy. She attended to every aspect of its decoration. You should have seen it at Christmas. The magic of it was unparalleled.”

Lord Harrison gestured into the front sitting room. “The tree would be placed in there. Wreaths and garlands everywhere. Candles and sweets…”

A look of rapturous wonder stole over Lord Harrison’s face. For a moment, Regina could see the boy he had been. But then he shook his head as if shaking away cobwebs.

“In any case. This was my mother’s home and all that I had left of her. My father’s library was all I had left of him. And I am rather fond of this place myself. I enjoy the hustle and bustle of London. And Whitefern is quite large. Preserving it and its history is of course important. But living in it overwhelms me. It is not mine. This house is.

“I gambled and won enough that in a year I could pay off all of my family’s debtors. The next year I made enough to invest in proper ventures. Those ventures tripled my investment. I then began the arduous task of rebuilding Whitefern.

“I admit that this took all of my energy. Despite inheriting eight years ago I have not been seen much in society. All my attention has gone to restoring Whitefern. And I have accomplished it. I can now rest on my laurels.

“Hence,” Lord Harrison chuckled. “My return to society these past six months and the wild speculations about my whereabouts for the previous eight years.”

“If I may ask, when did your father pass on?”

“When I was eighteen. I am six and twenty now.”

Eighteen. That was Regina’s age. She thought it ironic that she and Lord Harrison had been the same age when they were forced to rescue their family name from ruin.

“Why are you confiding all of this to me?” She asked. “We have only met once before. I have come to you with quite an odd request in mind. Yet it is a request that I have yet to speak of to you. How do you know you can trust me?”

“Because you’re in the same situation that I was,” Lord Harrison replied. “And… I am about to be quite blunt here, Miss Regina. You must forgive me for it. I am earnest in my desire to wed your sister. If you know my story and my true history then perhaps you can speak of her kindly to me. At the least you can dispel for her any unsavory rumors.”

Abby Ayles's books