“She refused. She said honor was at stake. They always had the tournament. The games had started. She couldn’t, or wouldn’t, cancel. Nor would she let us withdraw. She was very hard about it.”
“Lady Middlebury takes her whist seriously, and these games at her house party are important to her,” Mrs. Newsome said. “Her husband is very private. He does not come to Town.”
“So I have heard,” Gwendolyn murmured.
“He keeps her locked away on that estate with him,” Mrs. Newsome said.
“Therefore, we go to her,” Lady Orpington said. “Once a year, he allows her to entertain, and her whist tournament is infamous. However, I thought friendship was more important.” She placed her palms on the table. “Charles realized he wasn’t playing well. He was conscious of it, except his pride wouldn’t let him cry quarter. I told him that no matter the consequences, we should dropout and return to London, that the tournament wasn’t important. And then Franny taunted him. She made a pouty face and claimed that leaving would be poor sportsmanship after so many years of being the reigning winners. That touched on Charles’s sense of honor. He always was one to finish what he had started.” The tears that threatened earlier now rolled silently down her cheeks. “We lost. Of course we did. He was ill. It didn’t help that he felt as if he had failed me. I told him I didn’t care about the tournament, but Franny, who was once my great friend, mocked my husband for losing. She couldn’t stop crowing about it.”
“This is so,” Mrs. Newsome said.
“We returned to London immediately, but our physician said it was too late. His mind just grew worse. He died lying in our bed beside me.” Lady Orpington wiped her eyes with her hands until Mrs. Newsome offered a kerchief. She buried her face in the small piece of linen.
The room was silent as Lady Orpington composed herself. She lifted her gaze to Gwendolyn. All sadness left her eyes. In its place was a burning desire for revenge. “Lady Middlebury had the audacity to refer to herself as the new Queen of Whist in a letter to a mutual friend.”
“It was unsettling,” Mrs. Newsome agreed. “I had always rather admired Lady Middlebury, until that moment.”
“Franny has always had a streak of meanness in her, especially after our first Season,” Lady Orpington said. “She wanted Orpington, but Charles chose me. We were a love match.” Herchin lifted. “Can you believe it? At a time when marriages amongst important families with fortunes were arranged, I found the only man I could ever love. She was jealous of us and our money.”
“And yet she caught a marquess,” Gwendolyn pointed out. “A very wealthy one.”
“Oh, no,” Lady Orpington said. “Back then, Middlebury was a second son. His brother was the marquess. What a fine gentleman he was, far more appealing and enchanting than Walter.” She drew out the syllables of his name with disdain. “Secretly, I think Franny wanted the older brother. However, everyone claimed he was a confirmed bachelor. Then, to the world’s amazement, when he was almost forty, he married a Spanish beauty. She was the daughter of a diplomat. Everyone adored her, except Franny. Especially after she gave him a son.”
She leaned toward Gwendolyn as if imparting a secret. “You see, Franny had discovered a purpose to her marriage. She’d given her husband a son, and she’d reasoned that her son would inherit the title. Over the years, she’s given him another sonanda daughter. She never fails to point out that I’m barren. It didn’t matter. Charleslovedme.”
The pride in her voice coupled with the sense of loss brought home the depth of the woman’s feelings for her husband, more so than the wearing of half mourning over a year later. Gwendolyn found herself sympathetic. “But then something happened,” Gwendolyn noted.
“As it does,” Lady Orpington agreed. “Notlong after the birth of his son, the oldest brother collapsed while at his club. They say he was dead before he hit the ground.It was a sad day.Everyone was shocked. He had been an energetic man. Orpington had admired him very much. Not long after, the Spanish wife and the son died. It was quite tragic. A whole family wiped from this earth. The upshot is that Franny became the marchioness. Her son is the heir, just as she wished.”
Lady Orpington shook her head with disgust. “But she lacks the grace of her title. And she demonstrated her true nature when she put my husband in such a state—” She paused, swallowed, continued, “She disgraced him. She showed no kindness, no gentleness. She and the marquess didn’t even attend his funeral.”
“Because they do not leave Colemore,” Mrs. Newsome reminded her.
“And what silliness is that?” Lady Orpington demanded. “Orpington deserved that last respect.” She looked to Gwendolyn. “Franny thinks that my husband and I won because of his skill, but I was always his equal. Whist is a game of partners. Unfortunately, I have not found a partner to match my husband’s skill and I can’t win alone, not for this level of play. Part of the problem is who the players are. Colemore has a reputation. It is difficult to be around so much wealth. It unsettles people. However,youdon’t intimidate easy, Miss Lanscarr.”
“The Irish rarely do.”
Her lips curved into a conspirator’s smile. “You won’t let me live that down, will you?”
“Should I?” Gwendolyn removed her gloves and reached for the cards. She wasn’t certain what she thought of Lady Orpington. Then again, the world was full of people who believed they were more special than others.
Besides, she was here for Mr. Steele.
She began handling the cards, using a special shuffle that her father had taught her. He’d said that it warned players at the table they were in the presence of someone who understood their game. Her fingers moved with a will of their own, slipping the cards under, over, flipping them back and forth.
Lady Orpington and Mrs. Newsome watched the cards’ movement as if she was performing magic.
“You are good,” Lady Orpington said with a note of delicious anticipation.
Gwendolyn placed the card deck in front of her. “Anyone can perform a simple card trick.”
“Understood,” her ladyship answered. Then she smiled. “Charles would have said the same.”
Gwendolyn’s attitude toward Lady Orpington had changed. She wanted to help this woman because she understood loss—her mother, her stepmother, Gram—and she also understood the desire for respect.
“Please deal, my lady,” Gwendolyn told her.
Whist had been one of the first games Gwendolyn’s father had taught her. It was a simplegame of collecting cards of a kind or “tricks.” When the cards were finished, the winner wasn’t just the team with the most tricks, but the one with the highest card values. Hence, it made it a good game for gamblers.
