Rendezvous

5

"I don't believe I mentioned the fact that I had the privilege of meeting your brother a few months before he died, Miss Ballinger." Lovejoy smiled from the other side of the card table as he dealt another hand.

"Richard? You knew my brother?" Augusta, who had been telling herself that it was time to leave the card room and rejoin the crowd in Lady Leebrook's elegant ballroom, looked up, stunned. All thought of cards and strategy went out of her head in an instant.

Her stomach clenched as she waited to see what Lovejoy would say next. As always, when her brother's name was mentioned, she was immediately on the defensive, ready to do battle should anyone happen to question Richard's honor.

She was the only Ballinger left who could fight for Richard's name and memory and whenever the subject arose, she gave her all to the task.

She had been playing cards with Lovejoy for half an hour now, not because she was a particularly enthusiastic player but because she had rather hoped Graystone might wander into the ballroom and come in search of her. She knew he would be irritated, perhaps even mildly shocked by the somewhat dubious propriety of a lady engaging in a card game with a gentleman in such a formal setting.

It was not exactly improper. There were, after all, several other card games in progress in the same room. A few of the ladies involved had been known to lose sums equal to those their husbands occasionally lost in the clubs. But the high-sticklers in the ton, of which Graystone was surely one, did not approve of such goings-on. And Augusta was fairly certain that when he found her playing with Lovejoy, of all people, the earl would be genuinely annoyed.

It was a small vengeance for his high-handed treatment of her in the garden the other evening when he had insisted her honor demanded she remain engaged, but it was all she was likely to get. She had the arguments in her own defense already thoroughly prepared. Indeed, she looked forward to delivering them with relish.

When Graystone took her to task for playing cards with Lovejoy, Augusta planned to point out that he could hardly complain, as he had only forbidden her to dance the waltz with the baron. There had been no stipulations regarding cards. Graystone was a man who prided himself on his logic. He could just choke on it this time.

And if he found the offense of card playing simply too grave to tolerate, he could release her from her implied promises and allow her to cry off the engagement.

But Graystone had apparently elected not to attend the Leebrooks' elegant affair tonight and the entire attempt to challenge him had been wasted. Augusta had tired of the card game, even though she was winning. Lovejoy was pleasant enough company, but all she could think about was the fact that Graystone was absent.

The notion of ending the game and returning to the ballroom came to a crashing halt, however, at the mention of Richard's name.

"I did not know your brother well, you understand," Lovejoy said easily as he casually dealt the cards. "But he seemed quite likable. I believe I met him at a race meeting. He won a considerable sum on a horse I had been certain would lose."

Augusta smiled sadly. "Richard was very fond of attending sporting events of all types." She picked up her cards and glanced at them with unseeing eyes. She could not concentrate on what she held. Her mind was totally riveted on Richard. He had been innocent.

"So I gathered. Took after his father, I believe?"

"Yes. Mother always claimed they were both cut from the same cloth. True Northumberland Ballingers. Always eager for adventure and ready for any sort of excitement." With any luck Lovejoy would not have any inkling of the rumors that had circulated for a time after her brother had been killed on that lonely country lane. The baron had, after all, spent most of the past few years with his regiment on the continent.

"I was sorry to learn of your brother's untimely death two years ago," Lovejoy continued, frowning thoughtfully down at the cards he held. "My belated condolences, Miss Ballinger."

"Thank you." Augusta pretended to study her own cards as she waited to see if Lovejoy would say anything else. All the old memories of Richard's laughter and warmth returned with a rush, blotting out the hum of conversation in the room. The muttered accusations had been so grossly unfair. One only had to know Richard to realize he would never have betrayed his country.

A silence descended on the card table. Lost in her memories of Richard and her bitterness over the unfair accusations that had been lodged against him, Augusta could not begin to concentrate on her hand. She lost for the first time that evening.

"It seems my luck has turned, sir." She started to rise from her chair as she realized that Lovejoy had just won back in one round most of the ten pounds she had succeeded in taking from him.

"I doubt it." Lovejoy smiled, gathered up the cards, and shuffled again.

"I believe we are about even, my lord," Augusta said. "I suggest we call it a draw and return to the dancing."

"There were certain unfortunate rumors surrounding the events of your brother's death, were there not?"

"Lies. All lies, my lord." Augusta sank slowly back down into her chair. Her fingers trembled as she reached up to touch her mother's ruby necklace.

"Of course. I never believed them for a moment Lovejoy gave her a gravely reassuring look. "You may depend upon that, Miss Ballinger."

"Thank you." Augusta's stomach started to unclench. At least Lovejoy did not believe the worst, she thought.

Another silence descended, during which she did not know what else to say. She stared down at the fresh hand of cards she had just been dealt and automatically picked them up with unsteady fingers.

"I heard that certain documents were apparently found on his body at the time of his death." Lovejoy frowned over his hand. "Documents of a military intelligence nature."

Augusta froze. "I believe they were deliberately placed in his pockets to make him look guilty of treason. Someday I shall find a way to prove it, my lord."

"A noble goal. But how will you go about doing that?"

"I do not know," Augusta admitted tightly. "But if there is any justice in this world, I shall find a way."

"Ah, my dear Miss Ballinger. Have you not yet learned that there is very little justice in this world?"

"I cannot believe that, sir."

"Such an innocent. Perhaps you would care to tell me more about the situation. I have some experience in these matters, you see."

Augusta looked up, startled. "You do?"

Lovejoy smiled indulgently. "When I served on the continent I was occasionally assigned the task of investigating occurrences of a criminal nature that cropped up in the regiment. You know, the odd knifing in the alley of a strange town or an officer suspected of selling information to the enemy. Unpleasant as they are, such things happen in war, Miss Ballinger. And investigations into them must be conducted with absolute discretion. The honor of the regiment is always at stake, you see."

"Yes, I do see." Augusta felt a flare of hope unfurl within her. "Did you have much success in conducting that sort of investigation, my lord?"

"Considerable success."

"It is a great deal to ask, but would you by any chance be interested in helping me prove my brother's innocence?" she asked, hardly daring to breathe.

Lovejoy frowned as he gathered up the cards and dealt another hand. "I'm not sure if I could be of much assistance, Miss Ballinger. Your brother was killed shortly before Napoleon abdicated in 1814, was he not?"

"Yes, that's right."

"It would be very difficult to start tracing his contacts and associations now. I doubt that there would be any clues left." Lovejoy paused and gave her an inquiring glance. "Unless you have some notion of where to begin."

"No. None at all. I suppose it is hopeless." Augusta's brief stir of hope faltered and died.

She gazed down at the green baize forlornly, thinking of the poem that lay tucked into the jewel box on her dressing table. The strange verse written on paper that was stained with Richard's own blood was all she had left of her brother. It was certainly no clue. It did not even make any sense, as far as she had ever been able to tell. There was no point even mentioning it. She had kept it because it was the last thing Richard had given to her.

Lovejoy smiled consolingly. "Nevertheless, why don't you tell me what little you do know and I will see if there is anything that comes to mind."

Augusta began to talk as the card game continued. She made a fierce effort to answer the various questions Lovejoy idly tossed out. She tried to recall the names of all her brother's friends and acquaintances and where he had spent his time during the few months preceding his death.

But Lovejoy apparently saw no significance in any of it. Nevertheless, he kept asking questions and as he gently interrogated her, he continued to deal the cards. Augusta automatically played each hand she was dealt, one after another, giving no thought to her game. Her focus was entirely on the questions Lovejoy asked about Richard.

When she finally ran out of information, Augusta looked down at the pad of paper on which Lovejoy had been keeping score and realized she owed him a thousand pounds.

A thousand pounds.

"Dear God." She clapped her hand to her mouth in horror. "My lord, I fear I do not have such an amount readily available." Or even unreadily available. There was no way on earth she could come up with that large a sum.

The thought of going to her uncle to ask him to cover her debts was too awful to contemplate. Sir Thomas had been astonishingly generous since she had gone to live in his household. She could not possibly repay his kindness by asking him to cover a gaming debt of a thousand pounds. It would be unthinkable. Her honor would not allow it.

"Pray do not concern yourself, Miss Ballinger." Lovejoy calmly collected the cards. "There is no great rush. If you will merely give me your vowels tonight, I shall be happy to wait until such time as it is more convenient for you to settle your debt. I am certain we shall be able to come to terms."

Wordlessly, her heart pounding with the enormity of what she had done, Augusta wrote out an IOU for a thousand pounds and signed her name. Then she got to her feet, aware that she was shaking so badly she might actually humiliate herself by collapsing.

"If you will excuse me, sir," she managed with creditable calm, "I must return to the ballroom. My cousin will wonder where I am."

"Of course. Let me know when you are prepared to deal with your debt. We shall work out an arrangement that is mutually agreeable." Lovejoy smiled a slow, insinuating smile.

Augusta wondered why she had never before noticed the unpleasant gleam in his fox-green eyes. She steeled herself to ask a favor. "Will you give me your word, sir, as a gentleman, not the mention this incident to anyone? I would not want my uncle or… or certain other parties to hear of it."

"Certain other parties such as your finance? I can understand your concern. Graystone would not be inclined to be indulgent about a lady's gaming debts, would he? Such a stickler for the proprieties as he is would probably not approve of ladies playing cards in the first place."

Augusta 's heart sank even farther. What a mess this was going to be. And it was all her own fault. "No, I imagine not."

"You may rest assured I will keep silent." Lovejoy inclined his head with mocking gallantry. "You have my word on it."

"Thank you."

Augusta turned away and fled toward the bright lights and laughter of the ballroom. Her mind was reeling with the knowledge that she had been a fool.

Quite naturally the first person she saw when she left the card room was Harry. He had spotted her and was making his way toward her through the glittering crowd. Augusta took one look at him and was filled with an overwhelming desire to throw herself into his arms, confess all, and beg for advice.

Dressed in his austere evening attire with an immaculately folded white cravat around his strong throat, Graystone looked formidable enough to take on two or three Lovejoys and dispatch them all with ease. There was something reassuringly strong and solid about her fiance, Augusta realized. This was a man one could depend upon, if one had not gotten oneself into a situation through sheer stupidity.

Unfortunately, Graystone had no patience with stupidity.

Augusta straightened her shoulders. The problem was of her own making and she was obliged to find a way to pay her own debts. She could not possibly involve Harry in this fiasco. A Northumberland Ballinger took care of her own honor.

Augusta watched wistfully as Harry forged a path through the throng in her direction. She saw with dismay that he appeared displeased. His hooded gaze flickered briefly over her shoulder to the entrance to the card room and then raked her face.

"Are you all right, Augusta?" he asked sharply.

"Yes, quite all right. I vow it is rather warm in here, is it not?" She unfurled her fan and employed it industriously. Frantically she sought for a topic of conversation that might deflect his attention from the card room. "I wondered if you'd put in an appearance tonight. Have you been here long, my lord?"

"I arrived a few minutes ago." His gaze narrowed thoughtfully as he studied her flushed face. "I believe they have opened the doors for a late supper. Would you care for something to eat?"

"That would be wonderful. I should like to sit down for a few minutes." The truth was she wanted to sit down before she fell down. When Harry offered her his arm, she clung to it as though it were a lifeline in a raging sea.

It was while she was munching on a lobster pattie and gulping chilled punch which Harry procured for her that Augusta finally calmed herself sufficiently enough to start thinking clearly. There was really only one solution to her dilemma: her mother's ruby necklace.

The thought of parting with it made the tears burn in Augusta's eyes, but she told herself she deserved the anguish. She had been a fool and now she must pay the price.

"Augusta, are you quite certain there is nothing wrong?" Harry asked again.

"Quite certain, my lord." The lobster pattie tasted like sawdust, she noticed.

Harry's brow rose slightly. "You would, of course, feel free to tell me if anything serious was troubling you, would you not, my dear?"

"That would depend, my lord."

"On what?" There was an unexpected hint of steel in Harry's normally unemotional voice.

Augusta shifted restlessly in her chair. "On whether or not I thought you might be inclined to respond in a kind, understanding, and helpful manner."

"I see. And if you feared I would not respond in such a manner?"

"Then I would no doubt refrain from telling you a single blasted thing, sir."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. "Need I remind you we are engaged, Augusta?"

"You do not need to remind me of that fact, my lord. I assure you it is usually at the forefront of my mind these days."

There was only one place to go for advice on how to proceed with the business of pawning a valuable necklace. The day after the shocking disaster in the card room, Augusta went straight to Pompeia's.

The door was opened by a grouchy Scruggs, who peered at her from beneath his bushy brows.

"It's you, is it, Miss Ballinger? I suppose you know the members are all busy settling the wagers they made regarding your engagement."

"I am glad to hear that someone is gaining something out of it," Augusta muttered as she went past him. She paused in the hall, recalling the medicine she had brought him a few days earlier. "I almost forgot. Did the tonic help your rheumatism, Scruggs?"

"The tonic worked miracles after I followed it with a bottle of Lady Arbuthnott's best brandy. Unfortunately, I could not induce any of the housemaids to assist me in testing the remainder of the cure."

Augusta smiled briefly in spite of her low mood. "I am glad to hear that."

"This way, Miss Ballinger. Madam will be pleased to see you, as usual." Scruggs opened the doors to Pompeia's.

There were a handful of ladies in the club, most busy reading the newspapers or scribbling away at the writing tables. The gossip concerning the scandalous love lives of both Byron and Shelley had only fueled the determination of the club's aspiring writers to get themselves published.

It was odd how virtue, or the lack thereof, could affect one, Augusta reflected. Byron's or Shelley's distinctly unvirtuous romantic liaisons might very well produce just the inspiration needed by one of Pompeia's members to get her own work into print.

Augusta swept through the room, heading straight for the hearth. There was a cheerful blaze going, as usual, although the day was pleasant. Sally seemed to always be cold these days. She was in her chair near the fire and, fortunately for Augusta, she was temporarily without company. A book lay open on her lap.

"Hello, Augusta. How are you today?"

"Perfectly miserable. Sally, I have gotten myself into a terrible situation and I have come to beg your advice." Augusta sat down close to the older woman and leaned over to whisper. "I want you to tell me how one goes about pawning a necklace."

"Oh, dear, this does sound serious." Sally closed her book and gazed inquiringly at Augusta. "Perhaps you had better tell me everything right from the beginning.

"I have been a perfect idiot."

"Yes, well, we all are, sooner or later. Now, why don't you tell me the tale? I confess I have been a trifle bored this afternoon."

Augusta took a deep breath and explained the disaster in all its unpleasant detail. Sally listened attentively and then nodded in complete understanding.

"Of course you must settle the debt, my dear," she said. "It is a matter of honor."

"Yes, precisely. I have no choice."

"And your mother's necklace is the only thing of value you have to pawn?"

"I fear so. All my other jewelry has been given to me by Uncle Thomas and I would not feel right selling it."

"You do not feel you could go to your uncle and request his assistance in this?"

"No. Uncle Thomas would be vastly overset by this entire mess and I could not blame him. He would be extremely disappointed in me. A thousand pounds is a great deal of money. He has been far too generous already."

"He will be getting a considerable sum in marriage settlements from Graystone," Sally pointed out dryly.

Augusta blinked in surprise. "He will?"

"I believe so.

"I did not know that." Augusta scowled. "Why is it that men never discuss that sort of thing with the women involved? They treat us as if we were feebleminded. No doubt doing so makes them feel superior to us."

Sally smiled. "That may be part of it, but I think there is more to it than that. I believe, at least in the case of men such as your fiance and your uncle, that they act the way they do because they feel protective."

"Rubbish. But be that as it may, the settlements, whatever they are, will not be made for another four months. I cannot wait that long. I have the distinct impression that Lovejoy will begin hounding me for repayment very soon.

"I see. And you do not feel you could take this matter to Grays tone?"

Augusta stared at her, utterly aghast. It took her several seconds to close her mouth. "Tell Graystone I lost a thousand pounds to Lovejoy? Are you mad? Have you any notion of how he would react to such information? I cannot even bear to contemplate the explosion that would take place if I were to confess this to him.

"You may have a point. He would not be pleased, would he?"

"I could probably tolerate his displeasure," Augusta said slowly. "Who knows? It might even convince him to let me cry off the engagement. But I could never in a million years endure the humiliation of having to explain to him that in my desire to teach him a lesson I made a complete fool of myself."

"Yes, I can fully comprehend that. A woman has her pride. Let me consider this for a moment." Sally idly tapped the leather binding of the book in her lap. "I believe the simplest way to handle this is for you to bring the necklace to me."

"To you? But I must pawn it, Sally."

"And so you shall. But it is very difficult for a lady to pawn an expensive item without the business going unnoticed by someone. If you bring the necklace to me, on the other hand, I can send Scruggs to the pawnbroker's for you. He will keep his silence."

"Oh, I see what you mean." Augusta leaned back in her chair, somewhat relieved. "Yes, that would work. It is very kind of you to assist me in this, Sally. How can I ever repay you?"

Sally smiled and for a moment her fine-boned features held a hint of the radiant beauty that had once made her the toast of London. "It is I who am happy to be able to repay you in some small way for all you have done for me, Augusta. Now run along and fetch your mother's necklace. You shall have your thousand pounds by nightfall."

"Thank you." Augusta paused and gave her friend a searching glance. "Tell me, Sally, do you think it is possible that Lord Lovejoy used the conversation about investigating my brother's death to lure me into deep play? I am not trying to excuse myself, but one cannot help but wonder…"

"I think it entirely possible. Some men are extremely unscrupulous. He probably sensed your weakness and used it to distract you."

"He never meant a word of his promise to help me prove Richard was not a traitor, did he?"

"I think it highly unlikely. How could he? Augusta, you must be realistic about the matter. Nothing will bring back Richard and there is no way you can ever clear his name except in your own heart. You know he was innocent and you must be satisfied with that inner knowledge."

Augusta 's hand tightened into a small fist in her lap. "There must be a way."

"It has been my experience that in matters such as this, the best solution is silence."

"But it is not fair," Augusta protested.

"Much of life is not, my dear. On your way out, Augusta, would you please ask Scruggs to have one of the maids bring me my tonic?"

Quite suddenly Augusta's own problems faded into the background. A deep, helpless anguish gripped her. Sally's tonic was brewed from the juice of the opium poppy. The fact that she was calling for it this early in the day meant that the pain was getting worse.

Augusta reached out and took hold of one of Sally's frail hands. She held it very tightly for a while. Neither woman spoke.

After a time Augusta rose and went to tell Scruggs to fetch the tonic.

"I ought to paddle her backside so hard she could not sit a horse for a week. She should be locked up and not allowed out except under guard. The woman is a menace. She is going to make my life a living hell." Harry stalked across Sally's small library, found himself blocked by a bookcase, swung around, and stalked back in the other direction.

"She is going to make your life interesting." Sally sipped her sherry and did not bother to conceal an amused smiled. "Things have a way of happening around Augusta. Quite fascinating, actually."

Harry slammed his hand down on the gray marble mantel over the fireplace. "Quite infuriating, you mean."

"Now, do calm down, Harry. I only told you about the incident because you were demanding to know what was going on and I was afraid you would start making inquiries. When you make inquiries, you generally get answers. So I cut the process short by supplying you with the answers."

"Augusta is going to be my wife. I have a perfect right to know what the devil she's up to at any given time, damn it."

"Yes, well, now you know and you must let that be the end of it. You are not to interfere in this, do you understand? This is a matter of honor for Augusta and she would be most upset if you stepped in and resolved the issue for her."

"Honor? What has honor got to do with this? She was willfully defying me by flirting with Lovejoy and she got herself into serious trouble."

"Augusta is well aware she behaved somewhat recklessly. She does not need any lectures from you. This is a gaming debt, Harry. It must be settled. Allow her to do so in her own way. You would not want to injure her pride, would you?"

"This is intolerable." Harry came to a halt and stood glowering down at his old friend. "I cannot stand by and do nothing. I will deal with Lovejoy myself."

"No."

"A man is responsible for his wife's debts," Harry reminded her.

"Augusta is not yet your wife. Let her handle this. It should be over quite soon and I assure you she has learned her lesson."

"If only I could believe that," Harry muttered. "Damn Lovejoy. He knew what he was doing."

Sally considered that briefly. "Yes, I rather believe he did. And Augusta reasoned that out for herself, by the bye. She is no fool. It was no coincidence that he brought up the subject of her brother just as she was getting ready to quit the table and return to the ballroom. If there was one thing guaranteed to distract her attention, it was the matter of Richard Ballinger's innocence."

Harry drove his fingers through his hair in a distracted motion. "She was apparently quite close to that damned rakehell brother of hers."

"He was all she had left after their parents were killed in the carriage accident. She adored him. She has never stopped believing him innocent of selling his country's secrets and she would give anything to clear the stain on his reputation."

"From all accounts Ballinger was wild and reckless, just like his father." Harry stopped pacing and went to stand in front of the window. It was after midnight and it was raining. He wondered if Augusta was even now paying her gaming debt. "It is entirely possible he got involved in something serious simply because of the promise of adventure. Perhaps he was not aware of the nature of his actions."

"That branch of the Ballinger family has always been a bit reckless, but no one has ever accused any Ballinger of being a traitor. Indeed, Ballingers have always guarded their honor quite fiercely."

"Certain documents were found on his body, I believe?"

"So it is said." Sally paused." 'Twas Augusta who found him, you know. She heard the shot. Sound carries a long distance in the country. She went rushing out into the lane. Richard died in her arms."

"Christ."

"The documents were discovered by the local magistrate who was called in to investigate. Once everyone realized what had been found, Sir Thomas exerted every ounce of influence he had to get the facts suppressed. Obviously he did not have quite enough influence to stop all the rumors. But it has been two years now and most people have forgotten the incident."

"That son of a bitch."

"Who? Lovejoy?" As usual, Sally had no trouble following Harry's chain of thought. "Yes, he is, is he not? There are many like him in Society, Harry. They prey on vulnerable young women. You know that. But Augusta is going to get herself out of this predicament and, as I said, she has most definitely learned her lesson."

"Not bloody likely," Harry said with a resigned sigh. But he had made his decision. "Very well, I shall allow Augusta to repay her debt, collect her vowels, and keep her pride intact."

Sally cocked a brow. "And then?"

"And then I shall have a little chat with Lovejoy myself."

"I rather thought you would. By the way, there is one thing you might like to do for Augusta."

Harry looked at her. "What is that?"

Sally smiled and picked up the velvet pouch that sat on a table beside her chair. She loosened the thong that bound the pouch and allowed the necklace inside to spill out into her hand. Red stones sparkled in her palm. "You might like to retrieve her mother's necklace from pawn."

"You still have the necklace? I thought you sent it out to a jeweler's."

"Augusta does not know it, but I acted as her money-lender." Sally shrugged. "It was the only thing I could do under the circumstances."

"Because you could not bear for her to have to part with the necklace?"

"No, because the thing is not worth a thousand pounds," Sally said bluntly. "It is paste."

"Paste? Are you certain?" Harry crossed the room and plucked the necklace from Sally's hand. He held it up to the light, examining it closely. Sally was right. The red stones sparked attractively but there was no fire in their depths.

"Quite certain. I know jewels, Harry. Poor Augusta thinks the stones in that necklace are real, however, and I would not want her to learn the truth. The thing has great sentimental value to her."

"I know." Harry dropped the necklace back into the pouch. He frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose her brother pawned the real rubies when he bought his commission."

"Not necessarily. The workmanship on those stones is excellent and very old-fashioned. It was probably done many years ago. I suspect the real rubies were sold sometime in the family's past, perhaps two or three generations back. The Northumberland Ballingers have a long history of living on their wits and not much else."

"I see." Harry's hand tightened around the pouch. "So now I owe you a thousand pounds for a string of false rubies and fake diamonds, is that it?"

"Exactly." Sally chuckled. "Oh, Harry, this is all so very delightful. I am enjoying myself immensely."

"I am glad someone is."