Marguerite Kaye - Date with a Regency Rake

‘Mama, don’t, please don’t tell me that you’ve actually borrowed money to gamble with?’

The abject horror in her voice made Lady Maria defensive. ‘What of it? Everyone does it, Mrs Barrington says, and why should I not do so, when I’m bound to win soon.’

‘Mrs Barrington? And what, pray, has she to say to this?’

‘Well, she first introduced me to the party where I’ve been playing. And last night, when I had a quiet word with her, she said not to worry, she’d speak to the young man who is dunning me. Except, Clarrie, I can’t help but feel I’d rather have you sort things out, you’re so very good at it. I’d rather not rely on strangers, even if Mrs Barrington is such a good friend to Amelia, when I know can rely on you. My own trusty Clarissa.’

Lady Maria beamed gratefully at her daughter. She felt hugely better, having relieved her conscience and passed the burden, as always, to Clarissa.

But Clarissa was flabbergasted. The sums she owed, if the notebook was accurate, were beyond belief. ‘Mama, you have not made any more arrangements for funds with Mrs Barrington, have you?’

‘No, no, I promise. I just mentioned it in passing last night, I haven’t exactly committed to anything.’

‘And this man who is dunning you, when does he expect payment?’

‘Well, as to that, I couldn’t say. He merely says that he wants something on account soon, if I am to rely on him for further stake money.’

‘Mama! You must not, under any circumstances whatsoever, take more money from him. You must stop this gambling at once. You won’t win, you know, you will only put us further in debt. Please, I beg you, promise me, Mama, that you will stop.’

‘Well, I—well, but do you think you can fix things, Clarrie? For Amelia must have her dress, you know. We can’t expect Lord Rasenby to put us in funds until after they are married, once a settlement is agreed. And that is probably at least a month or so hence.’

‘There is no question of Amelia marrying Lord Rasenby, absolutely none. We must sort out this mess ourselves, and you must refrain—Mama, you must —from further gambling in the meantime.’

‘But, Clarrie, Amelia assures me that Lord Rasenby is about to propose. And if he does not, where will we be? No, no, Amelia cannot be wrong. She was born to make a sensational match, and she will.’

‘Mama!’ Clarissa’s temper was rising rapidly beyond her control for the second time in two days. Taking a deep breath, knowing that harsh words would only give Lady Maria one of her turns, she tried once more for calm. ‘Believe me, Lord Rasenby’s intentions towards Amelia are purely dishonourable, no matter what Amelia may say. I know. Nay, I am certain of it. Amelia must be made to give him up, or she will bring us all to ruin.’

‘Well, dear, if you say so,’ said Lady Maria dubiously, torn between doubt and an unwillingness to give up her vision of Lord Rasenby as their saviour. ‘Perhaps, then, a carte blanche —strictly as a temporary measure, you understand—would be a good thing, Clarrie? Then we could see ourselves clear of debt, and after that, Amelia can still make a good marriage. What do you say?’

‘What do I say? Am I the only sane person in this family? Aunt Constance was right, we will be ruined.’

‘Oh, don’t talk to me about your precious Aunt Constance. She is so ridiculously strait-laced as to be positively old-fashioned. And anyway, she’s never been short of a penny, so what does she know? You take after that side of the family, Clarissa, I have always said so. Amelia is so much more like me, the darling girl.’

‘Thank you, Mama, but I am pleased to take after Aunt Constance, if it means I have some moral fibre! I beg you, please, leave this in my hands. Do nothing further to get us deeper in debt. And get it out of your head that Amelia will receive any proposal from Lord Rasenby, honourable or otherwise.’

Lady Maria was far too used to Clarissa sorting their problems to question her abilities to cope with such huge debts, so she sighed, tucked her scarf around herself more comfortably, and dozed peacefully for the rest of the morning. Clarissa retired to her room with her head spinning to try to make sense of the situation.

Amelia flounced in some time later, disrupting her meditations. ‘Why so glum, Clarrie? I hope you’re not still fretting over my virtue. It’s safe enough—for now at any rate.’

‘Did you have a nice night?’

‘Yes, I did, thank you very much, and as I promised, saw no trace of Rasenby. Mr Brompton was most attentive, though. I do like him.’

‘Do you, Amelia? Enough to marry him?’

‘Lord, Clarrie, not that again. I’ve told you, Edward is a clerk in a lawyer’s office, he can hardly keep himself in cravats, never mind marry me. Although, perhaps as a last little fling before I tie myself to Rasenby, he’ll do well enough.’ Amelia laughed contemptuously at Clarissa’s face. ‘You’re so easy to shock, sister dear. Provided that Rasenby gets no whiff of it, why should I not have Edward first? It’s not as if Rasenby would be coming to the marriage bed pure.’

Amelia paused for a moment to reflect. Really, it was too, too vile of Edward to be so poor. And virtuous into the bargain. She was not at all convinced that he would take her to bed unless it was as his wife—even if she paraded naked in front of him! He had found out from Chloe some of Amelia’s doings with Rasenby, and had had the temerity to lecture her. He could lecture her all he wanted if he had the funds. But he didn’t. Frustrated at the unwonted feelings of tenderness Edward aroused in her, and at the necessity of deceiving him, Amelia turned once more on her sister. ‘Yes, I warrant I like Edward enough to marry him. But he has not the means. It’s Rasenby or the poor house, and I will not be going to the poor house.’

Clarissa was shocked. She had not realised just how perfidious her sister had become. She was horrified, too, at how she planned to treat Rasenby. Even had she not already resolved to remove Amelia from his grasp, she would have been forced into warning Rasenby about Amelia! ‘Perhaps you may find that if this Edward is so much to your taste you may settle for him after all?’

‘No, I’ve told you, Clarissa, my plans for Rasenby are unchanged. A few more days and all will be resolved between us, one way or another.’

‘He won’t be trapped into marriage, no matter what your plan.’ Clarissa’s tone was dry. ‘He is far too clever for that. Are you so sure that he is as mad for you as you say?’

‘Of course he’s mad for me, I’m never wrong about these things.’ This with a determined toss of golden curls. ‘I have him wrapped around my finger. And there he’ll stay, be assured, Clarrie, until he puts a ring on it.’

‘That he will never do, I am sure of it. But what of you? How can you contemplate a life of matrimony based on deceit and trickery?’

A scornful laugh was Amelia’s reply to this. ‘Why do you care? It’s not you who’s being tricked. He deserves to be played at his own game, it will serve him well.’

‘No, he never relies on trickery, he is honest in that sense. Really, he does not deserve such treatment.’

‘What are you talking about, Clarissa Warrington? You’ve never met him—what do you know?’

The suspicion in Amelia’s voice reminded Clarissa of the need for secrecy. But it would seem that rather than save Amelia from Lord Rasenby, Clarissa was now intent on saving Lord Rasenby from Amelia. When had come about this switch in loyalty?

‘No, I don’t know him, except by reputation. But it seems to me that, rake as he is, he deals honestly with his conquests. And he does not deserve to be tricked into matrimony. It is a recipe for disaster. For all, including you, Amelia, don’t you see? Dearest, you’d be miserable.’