LITMIR.BIZ

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Street, the place buzzed with men’s voices and women’s laughter. Smoke from cheroots filled the air. Disquieting. Smoke always disquieted him.

      Leo held excellent cards. Perhaps a run of luck would settle the restlessness that had plagued him ever since his siblings’ visits.

      ‘Did you hear about Kellford?’ the man on his right at the whist table asked as he rearranged his cards.

      Leo lifted his eyes from his own hand without any great interest in Baron Kellford. He’d known Kellford in Vienna. ‘Your turn, sir.’

      But the man clearly would not throw down his card before disgorging his precious on dit. Did he have a trump card or not?

      Leo’s opponent rearranged his hand. Again. ‘The news is quite amusing.’ Pressing his cards against his chest, the fellow looked from Leo to the other two men at the table. ‘Kellford is soon to be flush in the pocket.’ He leaned back, waiting for one of them to ask for more.

      Leo’s whist partner took the bait. ‘Did he engage some unbreeched pup in a game of piquet?’

      That would be like Kellford. Take advantage of some green lad in London for the first time.

      ‘Oh, he did not win a hand at cards, but he will win a hand.’ The man chuckled at his clever wordplay and finally threw down a card of the leading suit.

      Leo trumped it.

      Seemingly unconcerned with the loss, the man grinned. ‘Kellford is betrothed. He’s marrying an heiress.’

      Poor woman. Leo collected the markers he’d won.

      His partner shuffled for the next deal. ‘I’m the one who needs an heiress. Who did Kellford find? Some squint-eyed daughter of a wealthy cit?’

      ‘Not at all,’ the man said. ‘He’s marrying Miss Covendale.’

      Leo froze.

      No. Mariel married Ashworth. Hadn’t she? Leo spent two years on the Continent, travelling as far as he could to keep from hearing news of her marriage to Ashworth. On his first day in London, who did he glimpse on Oxford Street? Ashworth. He’d half expected to see Mariel at the man’s side. What had happened?

      More to the point, why marry Kellford?

      The noise and smoke-filled rowdiness of the gaming hell receded, and in his mind’s eye Leo saw Kellford, whip in hand, about to strike a cowering tavern maid from the hotel where they both happened to be staying. Leo had pulled the whip from the baron’s hand and forced Kellford out of the hotel.

      ‘Come now. I hired her!’ Kellford had protested. ‘I would have paid her well.’

      Leo closed his eyes and saw Mariel’s face instead of that nameless girl.

      ‘Mariel Covendale?’ Leo’s partner leaned back. ‘Men have been trying to win her fortune for years. How the devil did Kellford manage such a coup?’

      How indeed.

      ‘I do not know.’ The gossipmonger shook his head. ‘But the first banns have been read. I wager before the knot is tied, I’ll learn how he did it.’

      The fourth man at the table piped up. ‘I wager a pony you will not.’

      As the three men placed bets with each other, Leo stood and scooped up his share of the winnings.

      ‘What are you doing?’ his partner cried. ‘The set is unfinished.’

      ‘I must leave.’ Leo did not explain.

      He hurried out to the street. The night was damp after a day of steady rain. The cobbles glistened under the lamplight and the sound of horses’ hooves rang like bells.

      Leo walked, hoping the night air would cool emotions he thought had vanished long ago.

      Kellford had once boasted of being a devotee of the Marquis de Sade, the French debaucher so depraved even Napoleon had banned his books. ‘The man was a genius,’ Kellford had said of de Sade. ‘A connoisseur of pleasure. Why should I not have pleasure if I wish it?’

      Now all Leo could picture was Kellford engaging in pleasure with Mariel.

      A coachman shouted a warning to Leo as he dashed across Piccadilly. He found himself wandering towards Grosvenor Square within blocks of Covendale’s London town house. From an open window in one of the mansions, an orchestra played ‘Bonnie Highland Laddie,’ a Scottish reel. It was near the end of the Season and some member of the ton was undoubtedly hosting a ball.

      Did Mariel attend? Leo wondered. Was she dancing with Kellford?

      He turned away from the sound and swung back towards Grosvenor Square, staring past the buildings there as if looking directly into her house on Hereford Street.

      Had her father approved this marriage? Surely Covendale had heard talk of Kellford’s particular habits.

      Or perhaps not. One disadvantage of living a respectable life was being unaware of how low deeply depraved men could sink.

      Leo flexed his hand into a fist.

      He’d vowed to have nothing more to do with Covendale or his daughter, but could he live with himself if he said nothing? If he’d save a Viennese tavern maid from Kellford’s cruelty, surely he must save Mariel from it.

      He turned around and headed back to his rooms.

      No brandy this night. He wanted a clear head when he called upon Covendale first thing in the morning.

       Chapter Two

      ‘Do not walk so fast, Penny.’ Mariel Covendale came to an exasperated halt on the pavement.

      ‘Sorry, miss.’ Her maid returned to her with head bowed.

      Mariel sighed. ‘No, I am sorry. I did not mean to snap at you. It is merely that I am in no great rush to return home.’

      Penny, a petite but sturdy blonde, so pretty she would have been prime prey in any household with young sons about, looked at her soft-heartedly. ‘Whatever you wish, miss.’

      The maid deliberately slowed her steps. After a few minutes, she commented, ‘You did not find anything to purchase. Not even fabric for your bridal clothes.’ Penny sounded more disappointed than Mariel felt.

      Mariel smiled. ‘That is of no consequence.’

      In truth, she’d not cared enough to make a purchase. She’d merely wished to escape the house and her parents for time alone. Time to think. So she’d risen early and taken Penny with her to the shops. They’d browsed for hours.

      Penny’s brow furrowed. ‘I cannot help but worry for you, miss, the wedding so close and everything.’

      Too close, Mariel thought.

      They crossed Green Street and Penny pulled ahead again, but caught herself, turning back to Mariel with an apologetic glance.

      The girl was really a dear and so devoted that Mariel had been tempted to make her a confidante.

      Better to say nothing, though. Why burden her poor maid?

      Instead she gazed up at the sky, unusually blue and cloudless this fine spring day. Yesterday’s rains had washed the grey from London’s skies. Weather always improved if one merely has patience.

      Unfortunately Mariel saw only grey skies ahead for her. And she had no time for patience.

      For Penny’s sake, though, she forced her mood to brighten. ‘It is a lovely day, I must admit. That is reason enough to dally.’

      Penny gave her a quizzical look. ‘If you do not mind me saying, miss, you are so very at ease about everything, but it is only three weeks until your wedding, and you have no bridal dress or new clothes or anything.’

      So very at ease? That was amusing. Mariel must be a master

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