Fortune's fools Read online

  "Tell him about the start, Max," urged Kate.

  "Oh, yes, the start. Well, this is for your ears only, but Palmer started the race himself, dropping his handkerchief without so much as a 'ready, steady.'"

  "Really? And you didn't call him on it?"

  "I told him I would remember," said Max, and Kate's father nodded approvingly. "But back to the race. The gelding leaped ahead. It was quite obvious that they had arranged the start beforehand. I urged Thunderlight on,

  but I didn't try to overtake him until the last leg, when we were returning to the starting point. Then he gave me his all. It was beautiful," said Max.

  "Absolutely beautiful," echoed Kate, causing her father to remember her presence and her part in the deception, for he gave her a fierce frown.

  Turning back to Max, O'Connor smiled and said, "But you won."

  "That we did, sir."

  "And then you brought the gelding to the sale ring at Tattersall's and with the proceeds, you bid on my daughter's mare, buying her back for Kate."

  "Something like that, sir," said Max, sharing a smile with Kate. No need for them to tell her father that Kate had gone to Tattersall's, too.

  "I see. So the money in my pocket is really the winnings from the match race with Palmer's gelding, which you won on the back of my horse, Thunder-light."

  "Yes, sir, except for the other one hundred guineas which Kate has in her reticule there."

  "Oh, yes, Papa. I almost forgot." She handed him the remainder of the winnings with a smile.

  He stared at the coins in his hand for a moment. Finally, he looked up with a smile and said, "You, my daughter, are a minx, a cunning one, to be sure, but a minx."

  "Yes, Papa," she replied with an impish grin.

  "Very well, the two of you seem to have gotten away with this shocking scheme this time, but no more such shenanigans, do you hear, Mary Kate?"

  They agreed and breathed a sigh of relief, but it was premature.

  "Now, Kate, why don't you go and see if you can talk

  Cook out of some refreshments for all of us. I want to speak to Mr. Darby alone for a few minutes."

  Kate rose and frowned down at her father. "You will not fight him, will you, Papa? Nor will you lecture him."

  "Run along with you, girl."

  When Kate was gone, the two men stared at each other for a moment before the older man spoke.

  "Mr. Darby, you are a man of the world, are you not?"

  "I suppose so," said Max.

  "My daughter, for all her straightforward manners, is not very worldly. She is an innocent. What's more, she is mine, and I do not wish to see her hurt—by anyone."

  "I would not dream of hurting Kate."

  "And yet you sat here earlier this week and said you plan to wed another girl, did you not?"

  Max shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Yes, sir, I did. I still do. I really have little choice in the matter."

  "Well, I appreciate your candor, and I understand a man wanting and needing to better himself."

  "I really believe, sir, that Kate understands all this. I do not think she is in danger of forming a tendre for me. I have made no secret about my plans to wed Miss Beauchamp."

  "That's good to know, but a father worries about his only child, his only daughter."

  "You need not worry on my account, Mr. O'Connor."

  "Good. So have you come up with a plausible explanation why you bought a mare at Tattersall's and it has ended up in my daughter's possession again? What is Society going to think? You can hardly tell them the truth."

  "I... I had not considered that," said Max. In truth, he had not thought beyond making Kate smile again.

  That had been his goal, and when he had achieved it, he, too, had been happy.

  "You should have, my boy, but do not worry too much. I have a solution."

  "To what, Papa?" asked Kate, returning to the drawing room.

  "How we can explain your having Early Girl again."

  "Explain to whom?" asked Kate.

  Her father once again voiced his concern. Then he said, "I propose that you, Mr. Darby, will begin to ride Thunderlight. We will tell everyone that we have worked out a trade, that my daughter's unhappiness over losing her pet mare made me reconsider. No one will question your wanting to swap the mare for the stallion."

  "And when you return to Ireland and take the stallion with you?" asked Max.

  "By then the possibility of scandal attaching itself to my girl's good name will have passed. She, hopefully, will be settled with a husband, and you will be wed, too," said Mr. O'Connor.

  Watching Kate, Max nodded. She made a little face, but she did not disagree with her father's plan. On his part, it was an excellent solution, and the idea of riding Thunderlight any time he wished was superb.

  Just then, Mrs. O'Connor returned, sweeping into the room and kissing her husband's cheek. She smiled at Max and urged Kate to follow her upstairs to see all the ribbons and trims she had purchased.

  "But we were waiting for the tea tray, Mama," said Kate.

  "I really should be going, Kate. Good day, Mrs. O'Connor, Mr. O'Connor."

  "Must you go so soon, Mr. Darby?" said Kate's mother.

  "Yes, I have an engagement this evening. Good day."

  Forgetting about their guest and turning to Kate, her mother said, "Goodness, yes, Kate. You should be resting before the Laceys' ball tonight." She smiled at Max and said, "Good day, Mr. Darby. Do call again."

  Kate walked with him to the door where he bowed over her hand. "Are you going to the Laceys' ball tonight?"

  "I would not miss it," he replied.

  Kate answered this comment with a smile and a wink.

  He nodded and was gone.

  "Master Max, there is a note arrived from the marquess," said Barton, when Max returned from the O'Connor house.

  "What now?" grumbled Max, tearing open the envelope. "Wonderful. We are to pick up both the marquess and my father on our way to the Laceys' ball tonight. Tristram will be ecstatic," he added dryly.

  "Ecstatic about what?" asked his brother, who had just arrived home. Max related the contents of the note, and Tristram gave an unaccustomed laugh.

  "What is so funny? I thought you would be, at the very least, annoyed."

  "What is the point? Besides, we are all going to the same place. We might as well go together." The clock over the fireplace began to chime, and he added sunnily, "Time to get dressed."

  When he was gone, Max and the servant shared a puzzled frown. Shaking his head, Max headed for his own room.

  "Would you bring me something to eat, Barton? I

  will starve if I have to wait until the midnight supper they usually have at these things."

  "Certainly, sir," said the servant, hurrying away.

  An hour later, the four men were seated in the marquess's spacious carriage, heading to Richmond, where the Laceys had a palatial mansion along the river, in the Italian style.

  "Why don't you and Lady Anne build something like this for your honeymoon home?" said the marquess.

  "Shaddup," grumbled the viscount, glaring at each of the others in turn.

  "What is this, Papa? Have you been holding out on us?" teased Tristram.

  "No, I ain't holding out on you. I'm holding out on Lady Anne, and a very tricky affair it is."

  The marquess gave a cackle and informed the brothers, "Lady Anne has told him in no uncertain terms that she means to have him. He, however, is being stubborn. Why, I don't know. She's as rich as Croesus and almost as powerful, in her way."

  "Why?" asked the viscount. "Have you looked at her lately? I mean, really looked at her? She looks like a bulldog with those great jowls of hers. And that figure—if one can call it that!"

  His sons laughed at this, earning themselves another glare.

  "Why has she settled on you, Papa?" asked Max.

  "Oh, she has had a tendre for me since her come-out some forty years ago. I had enough trouble shaking loos
e from her then, but she finally had to accept it when I married your mother," he said. "But this time ..."

  "This time, you should simply close your eyes and leap at the old witch's offer," said the marquess with a

  gleeful cackle. "She would have no trouble settling all your debts."

  "Yes, but she doesn't like gambling or drinking or smoking, and I like all of those things. She would try to reform me," he added in horrified tones.

  "Perhaps you could bring her around, Papa," said Tristram, hardly containing his laughter.

  "And perhaps pigs can fly," snapped his father. "I don't want to talk about it. We are here, and she will probably be here waiting. I have to keep my wits about me," he said, throwing open the door and climbing down the steps before the carriage rolled to a stop.

  By the time the other three occupants of the carriage had descended, the viscount had already disappeared.

  "She'll catch him," said the marquess with another wheezing cackle. Looking at them each in turn, he added with a sneer, "You two boys see that you catch your own mates." With this advice, the bony marquess left them.

  "What do you make of all that?" said Max.

  "I would like to think that it means Papa is going to have the opportunity to repair the family fortunes on his own. However, given his history of irresponsibility, I take leave to doubt it will ever happen," said Tristram.

  "I don't know. Lady Anne seems quite determined."

  The two brothers strolled into the house, which boasted black and white marble tiles throughout the ground floor. Green palms waved at them from behind pillars and groupings of delicate French chairs dotted the large, open foyer. They followed other guests up the stairs to the first floor and greeted their host and hostess.

  Mr. James Lacey had earned his money through savvy business dealings, but being the younger son of an earl,

  he was still accepted by a society that looked down on earned money. His wife, a flighty woman whose father was a country squire, was known for her lavish entertaining. In warmer Seasons, they gave sumptuous alfresco breakfasts. This evening, the ball would be indoors—a sad crush, despite the fact that several drawing rooms and a ballroom opened onto each other.

  The first people to spy the Darby brothers were the O'Connors. Dragging her mother after her, Kate smiled and curtsied to them.

  Turning back to her mother, she said, "Mama, may I present Mr. Tristram Darby. I don't believe you two have met."

  The introductions quickly dispensed with, Kate's mother said, "Is this not a lovely home?"

  "Yes, the Laceys are known for their entertainments," replied Tristram. "And listen to that music. The very best musicians, to be sure. A waltz, I think. Would you care to dance, Mrs. O'Connor?"

  "Oh, I am not very good at the waltz, young man," said the matron with a blush.

  "Nonsense, Mama. You and papa have often waltzed. Go on. You will enjoy yourself."

  "But you, my dear..."

  Max took his cue and said, "If she will have me, I would be honored to dance with your daughter."

  "Thank you, Max," said Kate, smiling up at him and taking his hand.

  Max gave a nod to his brother, acknowledging his adroitness in maneuvering Kate into his company. Then Max glanced down at Kate, who wore a cream-colored gown with emerald green trim. He tore his gaze away from the creamy rise of her full breasts and smiled into her eyes.

  "You are beautiful, Kate," he said without thinking. "The green on your gown matches your eyes perfectly."

  She turned pink with pleasure and whispered, "How kind of you to notice, after all the hours I searched for this trim."

  "Your efforts were not wasted, my dear," he said softly as he guided her around the dance floor, his hand on her back and the other holding her hand.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the arrival of the Beauchamp family. Mrs. Beauchamp waved as they sailed past.

  Clearing his throat, Max continued more sensibly, "Has your father gotten over his anger?"

  "Oh yes. It never lasts for long. I am back to being simply 'Kate' again," she said with a chuckle. His eyes narrowed, and she explained, "When Papa is really angry, I am 'Mary Katherine O'Connor.' When he is less angry, 'Mary Katherine.' Then 'Mary Kate' and finally, when he is back to his usual self, I am once again 'Kate.'"

  "Then I am glad you are merely 'Kate' again. And how is Early Girl after her near miss?"

  "I sent to the stables to find out, and MacAfee said she is quite happy to be back in her own stall. Max, I cannot thank you enough."

  He gave her hand a squeeze and grinned down at her, his gaze admiring. Kate returned that smile. Their rotation around the room had lead them back to the spot where the Beauchamps were standing and watching.

  Glancing their way, Max's smile faded, and he commented politely, "Fine weather we are having. I do hope it holds."

  Kate's own smile froze and faded away. As they continued their circuit of the room, Max grew more frustrated. The girl in his arms was perfect in every

  way—except for fortune. She was closer to his height and fit perfectly in his arms. He imagined waltzing with Miss Beauchamp, and his lip curled with disdain. She would certainly not be gazing up at him admiringly. He would probably not even be able to see her face. It would be permanently fixed on his waistcoat.

  "Is something wrong, Max? You suddenly look angry or upset about something," said Kate, concern in her eyes.

  He shook his head, tightened his hold, and twirled her recklessly through the other dancers. Onto the balcony they waltzed, where other couples, also in search of a stolen moment of privacy, lingered.

  Dancing her toward the far corner, Max stopped suddenly. His hands slid to her bare arms, and he studied her fiercely for a moment before pulling her close. Kate melted against him, molding her body to his as their lips met in a fiery kiss.

  Then it was over. He set her at arm's length and shook his head.

  Agony in his face and voice, he said, "I cannot, Kate. I..."

  "Cannot what?" she asked.

  "You know. I cannot go on like this. Every time we meet, it becomes clearer and clearer to me that... but I cannot do this. I must not. I have to . . . Miss Beauchamp . . . I . . ."

  Kate stepped away so that his hands dropped to his sides. "I understand, Max. I am sorry. I wish ... but it was not meant to be, and I do understand. You have a responsibility to your family—to your father and your brothers." She stepped around him. Placing a hand on his arm, she added, "I wish you much happiness. Always."

  He touched her hand until she slipped away, returning to the ballroom. Max peered into the darkness, gathering his wits and his courage. Redoubling his resolution, he returned to the ballroom in search of the wealthy Miss Beauchamp.

  He had no difficulty spotting her, along with her mother. This time, however, her mother appeared bent on playing the part of chaperon. She was keeping Palmer at arm's length from Philippa, but as soon as Max appeared, she practically handed Philippa to him.

  "There is our Mr. Darby," she gushed. "You see, I told you so, Mr. Palmer. I told you he had claimed dear Philippa's first dance. A shame it cannot be a waltz like the last one, eh, Mr. Darby?"

  "There is something to be said for the quadrille," said Max dully.

  Philippa's blue eyes sought his for a moment, and her brow puckered adorably. Then she took the hand he offered and followed him onto the floor for the next dance.

  "I trust you are well this evening," he said formally.

  "Yes, thank you "

  They made it through that set by dint of civilities. When it was over, Max returned her to her mother. Philippa was claimed for the next dance, and Max slunk away, loitering on the edge of the dance floor, as far from Mrs. Beauchamp as he could get.

  Watching Kate with each subsequent partner was exquisite torture, but it was only what he deserved. How could he have been so stupid as to make her fall in love with him? For he had seen the love in her eyes. There had been no denying it. He had hu
rt her with his ... betrayal. No matter if she had known he could not, they could not...

  Hell and blast!

  He turned on his heel and went in search of something strong and lethal. In the card room set up for people who did not wish to dance, Max found full decanters and helped himself to a generous portion of brandy.

  "Take it easy on that, my boy," said Mr. Beauchamp. "You will need your wits about you tonight. Or are you already celebrating?"

  Max glared at the older man and said, "I don't know what you are talking about, Mr. Beauchamp."

  "I thought Philippa might have told you, but there. My girl is so shy, she probably could not bring herself to broach the matter, especially here in public."

  "I still do not understand, sir."

  "Why, that she has decided to accept you. She is quite fond of you, I believe."

  "Your daughter? Fond of me?"

  "Yes, indeed. And I have taken the liberty of asking our host, who is a particular friend of mine, if we might make the announcement here tonight. What do you think?"

  Max looked from Philippa's father to the full glass in his hand. He lifted the glass and drained it.

  "Why not? It will make this evening complete."

  "Excellent. Come along. I'll go and find Lacey and meet you near the musicians. We'll have them play a little fanfare to gain everyone's attention. Come along, my boy," said the short man, pulling Max after him.

  James Lacey stepped onto the musician's platform as the dance ended. After a quick, whispered consultation, the musicians played a fanfare, capturing the attention of all the guests. Mr. Beauchamp joined Lacey on the platform.

  "My lords, ladies, and gentlemen, my good friend Robert Beauchamp has an announcement to make."

  A little gasp of excitement rippled through the crowd.

  Beauchamp cleared his throat and said, "First of all, I would like my Philippa to join me here on the platform. Come along, my dear child."

  The guests parted to allow his pink-cheeked daughter to reach the platform. He took her hand and pulled her close to his side.