Bronwyn Scott - A Lady Risks All

And now there was to be a private dinner. Greer was aware there was more to it than a simple dinner, but even so, he was looking forward to it a great deal. There would be good food, good wine and the intriguing Mercedes would be there. That alone was enough to secure his acceptance.

The atmosphere at dinner was decidedly different than it had been the prior evening—less orchestrated, less of a show—but no less impressive because of it, and Greer found he was enjoying himself immensely.

The three of them dined informally in a small, elegantly appointed room done in subtle shades of gold designed expressly for the purpose of holding more intimate entertainments. Even the mode of eating reflected that intimacy. They dined en famille on juicy steaks and baby potatoes, helping themselves to servings from the china bowls in the centre of the round table and pouring their own rich red wine from glass decanters, thus removing the need for hovering footmen.

Greer had lived with the deprivations of military life long enough to fully appreciate the little luxuries of the moment, and man enough to appreciate the woman across from him.

Mercedes Lockhart glowed in the candlelight, dressed in a copper silk trimmed in black velvet, a gown so lovely it would have driven his sisters to violence. Her hair shone glossy and sleek, the flames picking out the chestnut highlights winking deep within the dark tresses. Tonight, she wore those tresses long, their length furled into one thick curl that lay enticingly over the slope of her breast, a most provocative cascade to be sure and a most distracting one. He nearly missed Lockhart’s next question.

‘What are you doing in Brighton, Captain?’ Lockhart poured wine into his empty glass. ‘Our sleepy little resort town must be tame by comparison to the military.’

Greer picked up his newly filled goblet. ‘Waiting for the next adventure.’ Brighton wasn’t all that different in that regard than the military. There’d been plenty of waiting in the army as well. Hurry up and wait; wait to live, wait to die. He was still waiting, only the scenery had changed.

‘Will there be one? Another adventure?’ Lockhart probed in friendly tones but Greer sensed he was fishing for something, looking for some piece of information. He’d discussed his situation with Mercedes last night but she’d apparently not chosen to pass the details on to her father. He shot Mercedes an amused glance. Why? To prove she wasn’t her father’s agent as he’d accused?

‘Well, that’s the question.’ Greer saw no reason to dissemble. His life was a fairly open book for those who cared to read it. Open and relatively dull, if the truth was told. ‘A family friend is making enquiries on my behalf, but I am not alone in my desire for a posting.’

‘I expect not these days,’ Lockhart replied with a knowing nod. ‘There are a lot of officers looking for work. Half-pay is a hard way to live. It’s not enough to support a wife or start a family.’ Lockhart offered him a smile that bordered on fatherly. ‘No doubt those things are on your mind at your age.’

‘Eventually, I suppose, sir.’ Greer thought the question a bit too personal on such short acquaintance. Lockhart was still fishing, but this time Greer chose not to bite. Lockhart was not put off by his cool response.

‘Sir?’ Lockhart laughed good-naturedly. ‘The military has trained you well, but there will be none of that here. We are not so formal as that, are we, Mercedes?’

‘Of course not, Father. We’re very friendly here,’ Mercedes said. She spoke to her father, but she was looking at him, something sharp and aware in her eyes as she studied him.

‘Call me Allen.’ What was going on here? Greer was instantly suspicious. The request was friendly enough, to borrow Mercedes’s word, but far too familiar. His father had raised him to be wary against such easily given bonhomie.

‘Allen’ leaned forwards. ‘Have you considered that you don’t need the military to provide the next adventure?’

Ah, things were getting interesting now. Very soon, all would be revealed if he played along. ‘Forgive my lack of imagination; I’m hard pressed to think of another outlet.’ What would a man like Lockhart have in mind? Did he want to make a salesman out of him? Have him sell Thurston’s tables? Wouldn’t that rankle his father? A viscount’s son hawking billiards tables. It might be worth doing just to stir things up.

‘Come on the road with me. I need to drum up business for the All England Billiards Championship in July. Why don’t you come along? I’ll pay all expenses, give you a cut of whatever money we hustle up along the way, and the best part of it is, I am not asking to put your life on the line for a little fun and adventure.’ Unlike the military came the unspoken jab at his other alternative. And he could bet with surety they wouldn’t be sleeping in the mud and the rain or eating bread full of weevils and spoiled beef.

‘What would I do?’ Greer questioned. He’d have to do something to earn his keep; his pride wouldn’t let him accept a free ride around England.

Allen shrugged, unconcerned. ‘You play billiards. Kendall tells me people like to play you. Your presence will be good for business, help people think about making their way to Brighton when summer comes.’

It sounded simple, simple and decadent—to make money doing something he was so very good at. But something philosophic and intangible niggled at him, likely born of the conservative life-lessons his father had instilled in him. Lockhart was right: he wasn’t risking his life. But he might well be risking something more. His very soul, perhaps. ‘The offer is generous. I don’t know what to say.’ This was not the ‘gentleman’s way’.

Lockhart smiled, seemingly unbothered by his lack of immediate acceptance. ‘Then say nothing. Take your time and think about it. I like a man who isn’t too hasty about his decisions.’ He set down his napkin and rose. ‘I must excuse myself. I have some last-minute business to take care of at the club tonight.’

Greer rose, understanding this to be his cue to leave as well, but Lockhart waved away his effort. ‘Sit down, stay a while, talk it over with Mercedes.’ Lockhart winked at Mercedes. ‘Persuade him, my dear,’ he chuckled. ‘Tell him what a fabulous time we’ll have on the road, the three of us bashing around England. We’ll hit all the watering holes between here and Bath, catch Bath at the end of their Season, and turn north towards the industrial centres.’

Greer raised a brow in Mercedes’s direction. ‘The three of us?’

Mercedes gave a small, almost coy smile, her eyes fixed on him knowingly as if she understood her answer would seal his acceptance. ‘I’ll be going, too.’

She was daring him with those sharp eyes. Was he man enough to go on the road with her? Or had he had enough after last night? Was he brave enough to come back for more? More of what? Greer wondered. Her tart tongue or her sweet kisses? Potent silence dominated the room as they duelled with their eyes, each very aware of the thoughts running through the other’s mind.

Allen Lockhart coughed, a thin, near-laughing smile on his lips as he reached into his coat pocket. ‘In all the excitement, I almost forgot to give you this.’ He handed a thick envelope to Greer. The flap was open, revealing pound notes.

‘What is this for?’ Greer stared at the money. It would keep him for quite a while in his drab rented room. Perhaps he could even send some home. His father had mentioned the roof needed fixing on the home farm. Stop , he cautioned himself. This wasn’t his money. Not yet.

Lockhart’s smile broadened. He looked like someone who has taken great pleasure in pleasing another with a most-needed gift. ‘It’s yours, from last night’s winnings.’