Jane Feather: Virtue

"I imagine it would be rather cumbersome to move 214,000 men at this stage in order to intercept him," Judith said. "They're strung out from Mons to Brussels, and Charleroi to Liege, as I understand it."

"You sound just like Marcus," Charlie observed again. "It seems very poor-spirited to me."

Judith laughed and took the opportunity to return the conversation to its original topic, one that interested her rather more. "So your cousin doesn't care for balls and assemblies. It's perhaps fortunate he doesn't have a wife in that case." She said it casually, with another light laugh.

"Oh, Marcus is not overfond of ladies' company in the general run of things." "Why not?" Charlie frowned. "I think it may have something to

do with an old engagement. But I don't fully understand the reasons. He has women… other sorts of women… I mean…" He stammered to a halt, his face fiery in the candlelight.

"I know exactly what you mean," she said, patting his arm. "There's no reason to be embarrassed with me, Charlie."

"But I shouldn't have mentioned such a thing in front of a lady," he said, still blushing. "Only I feel so comfortable with you…"

"Like an older sister," Judith said, smiling.

"Oh, no… no, of course not… how could I…" Again he fell silent and Judith could almost hear the recognition of what she'd said falling into place like the tumblers of a lock. She chuckled to herself. Charlie was well on the way to curing himself of his infatuation without the heavy-handed intervention of an overanxious guardian. Not that she was about to inform the most honorable marquis of that fact… Not that he was around to be informed, anyway.

Marcus put in an appearance as the clock struck midnight. He could see no sign of his ward or Miss Davenport, although the world seemed gathered in the Bridges' salons. After greeting his hostess he strolled into the card room. The faro table was crowded, the atmosphere lively and good humored. Sebastian Davenport was a steady winner. The marquis stood watching the table intently. There was nothing amiss with the way the man was playing. He certainly had luck on his side, but there was something else. Some innate ability to make judgments on the odds. He examined Sebastian's face. It was quite impassive while he was making his bet, then the minute he'd declared, tossing his rouleaux onto the table, he was as relaxed and lighthearted as ever. A true gamester, Marcus thought. It took a combination of brains and nerve, and Sebastian Davenport had both. Marcus didn't think his sister lacked those qualities either, although he hadn't yet observed her play.

Unprincipled adventurers, the pair of them, he decided. But he could see no reason at this point to expose them. Only the greedy and the foolish fell victim to hardened gamesters, and they got what they deserved. He would take steps to protect Charlie himself. "Davenport… a game of piquet?" The suggestion surprised Sebastian. He looked up at the marquis, remembering Judith's encounter the previous evening. But the suggestion was seemingly innocuous and piquet was Sebastian's game. "Why, certainly," he said cheerfully. "A hundred guineas a point?"

Marcus swallowed this without a blink. "Whatever you say."

Sebastian settled with the faro table and rose. The marquis was waiting for him at a small card table in a relatively quiet corner of the room. He indicated a fresh deck of cards on the table as he took his place. "Do you care to break them, Davenport?"

Sebastian shrugged and pushed them across to the marquis. "You do the honors, my lord."

"As you wish." The cards were shuffled and dealt and a silence fell between the two men. Sebastian had a full glass of claret at his elbow but Marcus noticed that although he seemed to raise it to his lips frequently, the level barely went down. A most serious gamester. And an expert card player. Marcus, who was no mean player himself, recognized that he was outclassed after the third hand. He relaxed, resigned to his losses, and began to enjoy playing with a master.

"Well, my lord, this is a pleasant surprise." Judith's dulcet tones came from behind him and she offered him

her most ravishing smile. "I have been sadly disappointed at your absence."

"Stand behind your brother," he snapped, quite impervious to this coquettry.

"I beg your pardon?" She frowned in puzzlement.

"Stand behind your brodier, where I can see you."

Comprehension dawned. She stared at him in dismay, all pretense at flirtation vanishing under the sting of such an unwarranted assumption. "But I wouldn't-"

"Wouldn't you?" he interrupted, without looking up from his cards; it was a damnably difficult discard he had to make. "Nevertheless, I prefer not to take the risk. Now move."

She stepped sideways, struggling for composure, seeking support from her brother. "Sebastian…?"

Sebastian gave a rueful chuckle. "He caught you at it, Ju. I can't call him out for you. Not in the circumstances."

"No, I don't think you can," Marcus agreed, discarding a ten of spades. "Not that you need any help from your sister." He watched with resignation as his opponent picked up the discard. "You'll not even spare me the Rubicon, I fear."

Sebastian totted up the points. "I'm afraid not, Car-rington. I make it ninety-seven."

"What were the stakes?" Judith demanded, this issue taking immediate precedence over hurt feelings.

Marcus began to laugh. "What an incorrigibly unprincipled pair you are."

"Not really," Sebastian said. "Ju, at least, has some very strong principles… it's just that they tend to be eccentric. Her view of ethics doesn't always coincide with the common view."

"I don't find that in the least difficult to believe," Marcus said.

"That's true of you, too, Sebastian," Judith pointed out. "You should understand, my lord, that we obey our own rules." Maybe a different form of flirtation would work with this intransigent marquis. If he preferred challenge to coquettry, she could offer him that.

Disappointingly, Marcus shook his head. "That's provocation for another day, ma'am… I'll settle up with you in the morning, Davenport." He scrawled an IOU on the pad at his elbow and pushed it over. "Fill in the sum. What have you done with my cousin, Miss Davenport?"

"He's gone off with Viscount Chancet and his friends. They had an engagement. And he is feeling very much in charity with me, my lord."

Marcus stood up. "Mmmm. Somehow that doesn't surprise me. However, don't rest on your laurels, my dear." He pinched her cheek. "As I told you yesterday, you haven't yet tasted my mettle."

"He's damned familiar with you," Sebastian observed as the marquis walked off.

"Yes, and I could cut his throat," Judith declared. "I'm trying to flirt with him and he treats me like a tiresome child in the schoolroom. I think he believes that now he knows what we are, he can be as familiar as he pleases."

Sebastian frowned. "That's perhaps understandable. Just so long as he keeps his knowledge to himself."

Judith sighed. "I don't seem to be doing too well with my present strategy to ensure that he does."

"You were confident enough yesterday," her brother reminded her, gathering up the cards. "And you've never failed yet."

"True." Judith nodded resolutely to herself. "There has to be some way to persuade him to take me seriously. I suspect quarreling with him is the answer."

Sebastian laughed. "Well, you're the fire-eater of the family, Ju."

"Yes, and I intend to put it to good use." A tiny smile flickered over her mouth. She was unable to deny the prickle of excitement at the prospect of joining in a battle of wits and wills with the most honorable marquis.

"Good morning, Charlie." Marcus greeted his cousin the next morning. Charlie was already at the breakfast table facing a platter of sirloin and mumbled an answering greeting through a mouthful of beef.