“I dare say we might have,” said Miss Grantham. “It all comes of letting people run upon tick at the faro-table. I knew we ought not to do it.”
“Everything is so difficult!” sighed her ladyship. “No one can feel more conscious of the awkwardness of your situation than I, Deb, but if Ravenscar were to make his offer again, which I dare say he will, if you behaved as badly as you tell me you did, do you think you might—”
“No,” said Miss Grantham resolutely. “Nothing would induce me to accept a farthing from that man! Besides, he assured me his offer was no longer open to my acceptance, and I am convinced he meant it. I think he is going to try to worst me by some other means.”
“Good heavens!” cried her ladyship, aghast. “Never say so, my love! He might set about to ruin us! He would be the most dangerous enemy!”
“So am I a dangerous enemy,” retorted Miss Grantham. “He will soon find that out! Whatever he does, I shall counter with something worse.”
Lady Bellingham moaned, and tottered to her dressing table to fortify herself with hartshorn-and-water. Her hand shook quite pitiably as she poured the drops into her glass, and she again gave it as her opinion that her niece was mad. “Some dreadful fate will befall us!” she prophesied. “I know it. It is flying in the face of Providence to throw everything to the winds, as you are bent on doing! And I will tell you something else, Deb, though I dare say you won’t care for that any more than for the rest. It is all over town that Ormskirk is done-up. Beverley told me last night that he had had some deep doings these last months, and the cards running against him five nights out of seven. And we know how badly that odious horse of his did at Newmarket! Ten to one, he will call in that mortgage, for you know his estates are entailed! And all you will do is to talk of countering Ravenscar! The very man you should have made a push to turn into a friend instead of an enemy!”
“I make a friend of that man?” exclaimed Miss Grantham, flushing hotly. “I will starve rather!”
“Very well, my love, I am sure I do not wish to interfere with you, but I don’t want to starve!” said her ladyship indignantly.
“I won’t let you, ma’am. If we were to be faced with that, I would—I would make a bargain with Ormskirk! I would do anything rather than be beholden to Ravenscar!”
“Well, if you would do anything, you had better send that Laxton child home, and make sure of Mablethorpe.”
“Oh, poor Adrian, no!” said Miss Grantham quickly.
Lady Bellingham sank into a chair, and closed her eyes. “Go away!” she begged faintly. “I shall have the vapours in a minute!”
Miss Grantham laughed. “Oh, there are a dozen things we might do to be saved! Lucius was talking of going to Hanover the other day, and trying his fortune there. What do you say to our closing this house, and running off with him?”
“Now I am going to have the vapours!” said Lady Bellingham, with conviction.
“Only I won’t leave England until I have settled my score with Ravenscar,” said Miss Grantham, a sparkle in her eyes. “I wish I knew what he means to do next!”
“If it would bring you to your senses, I wish you might know!” said her aunt. “I dare say it would kill me, but you will not care for that!”
But a knowledge of Mr Ravenscar’s activities that morning would scarcely have occasioned Lady Bellingham any great discomfort of mind. Mr Ravenscar had gone to White’s Club.
He was a member of several clubs, but Brooks’s was known to be his favourite, so that some surprise was felt at his appearance at White’s. The porter told him that he had become quite a stranger to the place; and an acquaintance whom he encountered on the stairs said: “Why, Ravenscar, don’t tell me you’ve abandoned Brooks’s at last! We thought you was wholly lost to us!”
“No, not wholly,” Ravenscar replied. “Who’s upstairs?”
“Oh, the usual set!” said his friend airily. “I must tell you the odds are shortening on your race, by the way! Beverley’s seen Filey’s pair in action, and he says they are rare steppers.”
“Yes, so I hear,” Ravenscar said, unperturbed.
He passed on up the stairs to the room overlooking the street. Here he found several friends gathered, but after staying for a few minutes with them, he strolled over to the window, where Ormskirk was seated, glancing through the
Morning Post.
Ormskirk lowered the paper. “So you have decided not to desert the club!” he remarked. “And how—may I ask?—are your plans for your ingenuous cousin’s rescue progressing, my dear Ravenscar?”
“So far, the honours go to the lady,” answered Ravenscar.
“Ah,” said his lordship, gently polishing his quizzing-glass. “Somehow, I apprehended that your efforts had not been attended by success. Am I, I wonder, correct in assuming that the lady was in your cousin’s company last night?”
“You are. They were at Vauxhall together.”
His lordship looked pensive. “At Vauxhall, were they? That seems a rather public spot, does it not? One might almost infer that the die was cast.”
“Don’t disturb yourself! I have reason to think Miss Grantham has little or no intention of marrying my cousin. Unless I am much mistaken, she is playing deep.”
Ormskirk sighed. “But how sordid!” he complained. “I hope you may not have misjudged your powers of—persuasion, my dear fellow.”
“I don’t despair because the dice fall against me in the first throw,” responded Ravenscar.
“I am sure you are a hardened gamester,” agreed Ormskirk, smiling.
“Talking of gaming,” said Ravenscar, “when do you mean to permit me to measure my skill against yours at the game which, I confess, I regard as peculiarly my own?”
“Peculiarly your own?” murmured Ormskirk, raising his brows. “Can you mean piquet, my dear Ravenscar?”
“Why, yes!” acknowledged Ravenscar. “You threw a most delicate challenge in my way the other night. I must confess my curiosity and my self-esteem were stirred. I did not think I had my match, but I fancy you think otherwise, my lord.”
“To be sure,” sighed his lordship, “I have not been used to consider my own skill contemptible.”
“Come and dine at my house, and let us discover which of us has met his match!”
Ormskirk did not answer immediately. The bored smile still lingered on his lips, but seemed to have grown a little rigid. He went on polishing his glass with his lace-edged handkerchief, his eyes veiled.
“No?” Ravenscar said, the faintest suggestion of mockery in his voice.
Ormskirk lifted his eyes, and also his quizzing-glass. “My dear Ravenscar! My very dear Ravenscar! I never refuse a challenge. By all means let us measure our skill! But my recollection is that I invited you to come to nay house. Give me the pleasure of your company at dinner tonight, I beg of you!”
Mr Ravenscar accepted this invitation, stayed for a few moments in idle conversation, and presently withdrew, perfectly satisfied with the results of his visit to the club.
He dined tête-à-tête with his lordship, the faded sister who presided over the establishment having gone to spend the evening with friends, his lordship explained. Ravenscar guessed that she had had orders to absent herself, for it was well known that she never received anything but the most cavalier treatment from her brother. Dinner was good, and the wine excellent. Mr Ravenscar, calmly drinking glass for glass with his host, was glad to think that he had a hard head. He might almost have suspected Ormskirk of trying to fuddle his brain a little, so assiduous was he in keeping his guest’s glass filled.
A card-table had been set out in a comfortable saloon on the ground-floor of the house. Several unbroken packs stood ready to hand, and it was not long before the butler carried into the room a tray loaded with bottles and decanters, which he placed upon a side-table. Lord Ormskirk directed him to move a branch of candles nearer to the card-table, and with a smile, and a slight movement of one white hand, invited Ravenscar to be seated.