Fortune's Lady by Evelyn Richardson Page B

attention, for whatever reason. If he had not been so preoccupied with the enigma of Gareth de Vere playing cards with a female at a ball, Reggie might have speculated a good deal about his cousin’s preoccupation with the man, but he still had not recovered from the initial shock of seeing the Marquess of Harwood at the card table with his cousin, nor could he accept the fact that Althea was warning him against playing cards with the man she had contrived to beat.
    With a start Reggie realized that his cousin’s eyes were still fixed questioningly on him. “What? Oh, er, why does the Marquess of Harwood no longer gamble? Well, he gambles, but only if the challenge is there. If he is certain to win, he will not play, no matter how high the stakes are—no sport in it. But there was a time when he would play for anything.”
    “When was that?”
    “When his father died. He returned home from the Peninsula to find the family in dun territory. The estates were mortgaged to the hilt and most of the servants had left. He needed funds in a hurry and gaming was the only way, though gaming was the way his father had lost it all in the first place. Fortunately he was more successful than his father and it was not much more than a year before he was able to pay off the creditors and start on building his own fortune. Now they say he is rich as Croesus.”
    “He did play a very strong game with Grandmama and me, though we were not playing for high stakes.”
    “There is more to lose than money. Have care, Allie.”
    His cousin looked puzzled.
    “There is a reason that the matchmaking mamas are not flocking around one of the ton’s wealthiest, most eligible catches. He is known as the Bachelor Marquess, and it will do your reputation no good to be seen with him.”
    “Reputation, pooh. I could do with a little less reputation.”
    “It ain’t a laughing matter, Allie. His name has never been coupled with a respectable woman’s. And he lets it be known that he is not in the market for a wife—only women who ah, er ... well, never mind, but being seen regularly with him, even if it is at card tables and even if you are accompanied by your grandmother, is bound to give rise to comment.”
    “And what is his aversion to marriage?” Not being in the least concerned about maintaining a reputation in a society for which she had very little use, Althea did not bother to respond to her cousin’s warnings.
    “Lord, Allie, how should I know? But it is not because he doesn’t like women. I can tell you that he has got the nicest little, ah, er ... Well, at any rate, he is very successful with certain kinds of women, but not the sort you should know.”
    “And what is—
    “That is all I am going to say, Allie,” Reggie said, interrupting her. “Should not even had said that much. Not the sort of thing for a gently bred young lady to discuss.”
    “Nonsense, Reggie. I am more than seven, you know. I have spent my life in the country, where they do not put such a fine point on things. I hear the gossip among the servants.”
    “Well, you shouldn’t listen to it. Ladies are not supposed to know such things.”
    “More fools they. They could spare themselves much disillusionment and heartache if they did. I wonder why he avoids all but ‘certain kinds of women’?” Althea stared ruminatively out the window at the branch of a beech tree whose buds were just beginning to open.
    “I have not the least notion. But if I were you, Allie, I would forget the entire thing. Forget him. It ain’t worth the risk.”
    “But, Reggie, you know that every good card player is accustomed to taking risks. And I am a very good card player.”
    “You cannot say I have not warned you.” Shaking his head gloomily, Reggie rose and took his leave.
    But his cousin sat for some time looking out the window at the square beyond and the lacy greenery of the trees softening what had been the stark branches of winter. Why was the Marquess of Harwood