“What is happening?” Beckett asked, but he was shushed by someone standing on the other side of the table. Insulted, Beckett made a vulgar gesture back. The other man returned it.
“How dare you!” Beckett hissed, and then both men looked to him.
“I win!” Timothy yelled.
“Wot?”
“That’s cheating, that is!” cried the man who had shushed him.
“How did you win?” Beckett asked.
“Staring contest,” Timothy said, swigging at a glass near his elbow. He exhaled with vigor. “I won.”
“You kept me from my bed for a staring contest?” Beckett could sock the man dead in the nose.
“No,” he said, turning his bright expression toward him. “I kept you from your bed to win a wager.”
Beckett blinked, his vision bright and tilting again. “What was your wager?”
“That if I win, you court a lovely widow of the proprietress’s choosing.”
Beckett frowned. “I’m not courting anyone.”
“You will now. We shall have her name forthwith.” Timothy’s expression was darker than Beckett had ever seen it. Or at least, it seemed that way. Beckett was too tired to care at this point.
“No, I bloody well won’t,” Beckett insisted, ready to dig in harder than any mule.
“You will, or I forfeit my entire fortune,” Timothy said, catching Beckett’s eye.
Beckett stared at him, ignoring the commotion that surrounded them. Timothy was not joking. And, damn him, did not at all appear to be as drunk as Beckett was. The cad! “This is unreasonable. This is not something that any sane person would agree to do, and if I say I will not, I mean it!”
Wordlessly, a woman came around and showed where Timothy had signed his name, guaranteeing the bet. This was a terrible bargain.
“This is a terrible bargain,” Beckett repeated, aloud this time.
“Not for me it isn’t,” Timothy said, handing the quill back to the woman with a flourish and a bow. “Now let’s get you to bed.”
Chapter Two
Nell awoke early,as always. She had her tea and toast, as always. She dressed what Sabine set out for her that morning—a variation on half mourning that she’d worn for well over a decade. Her wardrobe was full of grays, lavenders, and white. It was plenty for Nell. After breaking her fast and dressing, she walked Hyde Park for exercise, her groom armed and trailing behind her as she marched along the Serpentine.
After her exercise, she returned home and sat down to work at her correspondence. At three in the afternoon, Fatima would call upon her, then Chastity, and then Jane at quarter past. If it happened to be a day when she would be out, then she would call upon them instead. She examined her finances before an early dinner, and if there was enough for a ticket to an opera or a musicale, she would go out. She always went alone, with her groom, of course, behaving in the same manner that he did at Hyde Park: armed and trailing.
Nell preferred to go alone because she did not wish to be introduced to other people. She did not want to be waved down by a friend of or relative of Fatima or Chastity or Jane. She did not wish to expand her circle of acquaintances or circumstance.This was her world. She had built it, she had maintained it, and it was perfectly acceptable in all ways.
If she did not have a financial surplus, she would take a small glass of sherry with her to her room and read in front of the fire until she tired. As both Sabine and Jacobs would have long since retired, as well as the cook and the daily maid-of-all-work, she would bank the fire herself, douse the candles, and crawl into bed. She would awake refreshed and ready to find the next day exactly as she had prepared it to be.
The preoccupation of Nell’s mind was her own business, and outside of her correspondence, she did not discuss it. She did not include Fatima, Chastity, or Jane on any of her thoughts, but did often let her mind continue working as they informed her of their own activities and lives. They regularly invited her to church luncheons, garden clubs, and charity organizations.
Nell turned down each and every invitation. Why should she bother with those activities? She had no wish to think of other things. Her passion was hers, and hers alone. She liked it that way, as it was predictable, and at her own convenience.
And she was going about her very well-prescribed day, finishing the exercise in Hyde Park, when there was a knock at the door. Nell frowned and looked at the clock. It was a touch too early for morning callers, and she was not done with her correspondence. This was not how days were supposed to go.
However, forbearance was probably a virtue, and if Nell attended church anymore, as both Fatima and Chastity begged, she might know that for a fact. Jacobs opened the door, and while Nell couldn’t hear the exact words spoken, she could tell the person was asking for an audience. Moments later, Jacobs appeared to ask if she would receive this unexpected visitor, and Nell had to unclench her jaw in order to acquiesce to societal expectations.
The visitor was a well-dressed woman. Her bonnet was fashionable, but not overly so. Her clothes were well-tailored but of modest colors and style. Her gloves were clean. If one were to spy her on the streets, one might think her a gently bred lady on the way to or from market, with groomsmen somewhere, ready to carry her parcels.
But instead of an apple or a strip of ribbon, she pulled a letter from the small basket on her arm and held it outstretched. “Good morning, ma’am. I have been sent with a letter to deliver personally.”
