mouth, for I'm sure the dragoons will not be able to make a move without Mal-ton's advice."
Richard stared at Sabrina in open admiration, his face flushed with excitement. "When are you going out again, Rina? Can I ride with you? I promise I won't be frightened," he pleaded hopefully.
Sabrina shook her head. "You know I told you we would never discuss that. Besides, you're needed here. Should anything happen to me, what would Mary and Aunt Margaret do? They'll need you, Dickie."
"Nothing will happen to you!" Richard cried, flinging himself at her feet and wrapping his arms about her waist. "Nothing, ever!"
Sabrina looked over his head into Mary's eyes and wondered what she saw, but Mary shook her head despairingly, unable to answer the question in her eyes. Nothing must go wrong now, nothing must happen to interfere with their plans. Sabrina intended to make sure that nothing did, and vowed to herself that she would not allow anything, nor anybody, to upset their lives.
A bold bad man.
Edmund Spenser
Chapter 3
T HE Duke of Camareigh leaned indolently against the portal of the double doors and watched as the carefree dancers glided past. First they slowly danced the minuet with its bowing and crossing, the partners flirting provocatively as they drew together, and then a more lively bouree, followed by a courante to keep them breathless with its quick, running steps.
"Aren't you going to join in, Lucien?" Sir Jeremy Winters inquired, as he took two glasses of champagne from a tray offered by a liveried footman and handed one of the brimming goblets to the Duke.
"And have my feet trod upon? No, thank you," Lucien declined wryly as a red-faced, perspiring gentleman stumbled past.
Sir Jeremy laughed. "Even if you shun my more lively entertainments, I'm glad you accepted my invitation. Only sorry I'd already planned such a cursed large party. Don't get you down this way much."
"I thought I might as well look up an old friend, as long as I was here looking over some property I've acquired," replied the Duke.
"Heard you'd won Davern's estate. Not much, I'm afraid," Sir Jeremy informed him. "He'd let it go for years."
"Yes, I'd thought as much, but I like to know what I possess. It may be worth saving," he paused, taking a sip of champagne. "If not, I'll sell or lose it in a game of hazard next week."
Sir Jeremy shook his head. "Lavenbrook lost everything last week in one hand. Shot himself dead in his host's dining room."
"If you can't afford to lose, you shouldn't play the game," Lucien commented unsympathetically. "We're all bound to lose sometime and should be prepared to pay."
"But for God's sake, man," Sir Jeremy replied fervently, "sometimes you just can't help it. I've often found myself in too deep and just luckily managed to extricate myself in time."
"When I play a game, whatever it may be, whether at the tables or elsewhere, I expect to pay my debts, and," he added, his eyes cold, "I expect to collect what is due me. I make no allowances, and I always collect."
"Well, I like to collect too," Sir Jeremy began, "but I give a friend a chance to regain his losses and time to pay."
"I never gamble with friends who can't afford to lose— it's the best way to lose your friends," the Duke replied lazily.
"I'd have thought you'd be, of all people, the most understanding, Lucien. After all, you were in tight spots many times before you managed to break even and eventually make your fortune."
Lucien smiled thoughtfully as he answered seriously, "That is precisely why I feel as I do. I had to make my fortune at cards, a professional gambler you might say, and therefore it was a business, and charity and compassion played no part in it. I couldn't afford to feel either. That is why I didn't and prefer not to play with friends."
Sir Jeremy shook his head regretfully, his friendly features mirroring dissatisfaction. "Cursed nuisance having your inheritance tied up the way it is."
The Duke's
Richard stared at Sabrina in open admiration, his face flushed with excitement. "When are you going out again, Rina? Can I ride with you? I promise I won't be frightened," he pleaded hopefully.
Sabrina shook her head. "You know I told you we would never discuss that. Besides, you're needed here. Should anything happen to me, what would Mary and Aunt Margaret do? They'll need you, Dickie."
"Nothing will happen to you!" Richard cried, flinging himself at her feet and wrapping his arms about her waist. "Nothing, ever!"
Sabrina looked over his head into Mary's eyes and wondered what she saw, but Mary shook her head despairingly, unable to answer the question in her eyes. Nothing must go wrong now, nothing must happen to interfere with their plans. Sabrina intended to make sure that nothing did, and vowed to herself that she would not allow anything, nor anybody, to upset their lives.
A bold bad man.
Edmund Spenser
Chapter 3
T HE Duke of Camareigh leaned indolently against the portal of the double doors and watched as the carefree dancers glided past. First they slowly danced the minuet with its bowing and crossing, the partners flirting provocatively as they drew together, and then a more lively bouree, followed by a courante to keep them breathless with its quick, running steps.
"Aren't you going to join in, Lucien?" Sir Jeremy Winters inquired, as he took two glasses of champagne from a tray offered by a liveried footman and handed one of the brimming goblets to the Duke.
"And have my feet trod upon? No, thank you," Lucien declined wryly as a red-faced, perspiring gentleman stumbled past.
Sir Jeremy laughed. "Even if you shun my more lively entertainments, I'm glad you accepted my invitation. Only sorry I'd already planned such a cursed large party. Don't get you down this way much."
"I thought I might as well look up an old friend, as long as I was here looking over some property I've acquired," replied the Duke.
"Heard you'd won Davern's estate. Not much, I'm afraid," Sir Jeremy informed him. "He'd let it go for years."
"Yes, I'd thought as much, but I like to know what I possess. It may be worth saving," he paused, taking a sip of champagne. "If not, I'll sell or lose it in a game of hazard next week."
Sir Jeremy shook his head. "Lavenbrook lost everything last week in one hand. Shot himself dead in his host's dining room."
"If you can't afford to lose, you shouldn't play the game," Lucien commented unsympathetically. "We're all bound to lose sometime and should be prepared to pay."
"But for God's sake, man," Sir Jeremy replied fervently, "sometimes you just can't help it. I've often found myself in too deep and just luckily managed to extricate myself in time."
"When I play a game, whatever it may be, whether at the tables or elsewhere, I expect to pay my debts, and," he added, his eyes cold, "I expect to collect what is due me. I make no allowances, and I always collect."
"Well, I like to collect too," Sir Jeremy began, "but I give a friend a chance to regain his losses and time to pay."
"I never gamble with friends who can't afford to lose— it's the best way to lose your friends," the Duke replied lazily.
"I'd have thought you'd be, of all people, the most understanding, Lucien. After all, you were in tight spots many times before you managed to break even and eventually make your fortune."
Lucien smiled thoughtfully as he answered seriously, "That is precisely why I feel as I do. I had to make my fortune at cards, a professional gambler you might say, and therefore it was a business, and charity and compassion played no part in it. I couldn't afford to feel either. That is why I didn't and prefer not to play with friends."
Sir Jeremy shook his head regretfully, his friendly features mirroring dissatisfaction. "Cursed nuisance having your inheritance tied up the way it is."
The Duke's
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