Behind the Rake's Wicked Wager - By Sarah Mallory Page 0,64

were not present. However, having ventured into the busy meeting place, he could not leave before speaking to a number of his acquaintances and listening to the latest gossip. He was pleased that this no longer centred on Susannah—she had been supplanted by the news that the Dowager Countess of Gisburne was in Bath.

Jasper received the information with interest, and set off for Laura Place, where he was shown into the countess’s drawing room by her stately butler.

He found himself in the presence of an elderly lady dressed in black satin. She was sitting in a large, carved armchair, her back ramrod straight, and the bright eyes that watched him cross the room were remarkably piercing.

‘Markham...’ she held out her hand ‘...I did not expect to find you here, but it is a pleasant surprise. You will take wine with me? Good.’ She paused while he bowed over her fingers and did not object when he then leaned forwards to kiss her cheek. ‘You can tell me how your family go on. I saw your sister in town, looking radiant, as ever. And how is Dominic, my godson? I wanted to get to Rooks Tower for the christening, but the weather...’ She waved one beringed hand. ‘I would have risked it, but Gisburne and my doctor were adamant.’

‘And quite right, too, ma’am,’ Jasper agreed, pulling up a chair and sitting down. ‘Dominic would never forgive you for knocking yourself up with such a journey. He is inordinately happy, you know.’

‘Having met his wife I can believe it,’ replied the dowager. ‘Zelah Coale is a very sensible gel, and a reliable correspondent, too.’

‘Yes, she has won all our hearts.’

Even as he uttered the words, Jasper realised with a slight jolt of surprise that Zelah had not been in his thoughts for some weeks now.

‘And how are you, my boy—still leading the young ladies a merry dance?’

‘Rather the reverse, ma’am,’ he replied, thinking of Susannah. ‘But tell me, what brings you to Bath?’

‘The winter left me a trifle fagged and my doctor thought it would do me good to take the waters.’

‘As long as it is nothing serious.’

‘Not a whit, although I don’t doubt Gisburne and his wife would like it to be. They must wish me at Jericho.’

Jasper grinned, too well acquainted with the dowager’s easy-natured son to believe any such thing.

‘You know he would dispute that, and your many charities would miss you, too.’ He paused, gazing down at the large signet ring on his finger. ‘And talking of your charities, I think you may be able to help me.’

‘Go on.’

Jasper took advantage of the servant’s entrance to consider his words. Once the glasses had been filled and they were alone again he began.

‘A friend...’ He hesitated, knowing that in her present mood Susannah would object strongly to the term. ‘An acquaintance has set up a home for young ladies of gentle birth who have been abandoned by their families for, ah...’

‘For being pregnant,’ she finished for him. ‘There is no need to be mealy-mouthed with me, Markham.’

He smiled.

‘I beg your pardon. Let me explain...’

* * *

When he had finished telling her about Florence House, the lace-makers and Odesse, Lady Gisburne nodded slowly.

‘Exemplary.’ She put down her empty wineglass. ‘What is it you want from me?’

‘Ostensibly all this was set up by Mrs Wilby. Now it is known that her unmarried niece is closely involved with Florence House and the Bath tabbies are sharpening their claws. Some have already cut the acquaintance. If they learn of the connection with the modiste it could destroy the small income that keeps the house going.’ He refilled the glasses and held one out to the Dowager. ‘The niece is an heiress and I believe she intends to fund the scheme, once she comes into her inheritance, but that will not be for a year or two yet. I would like to help them.’

She looked at him over the rim of her glass.

‘Repenting past sins, Markham?’

‘Certainly not,’ he replied, in no way offended. ‘Seducing innocents has never been my style, and despite my reputation I have always been alive to the consequences of my actions. I am tolerably certain there are no bastards of mine in the world. No, it is purely altruistic.’ He found he could not meet that searching gaze and studied the contents of his wineglass instead. ‘Any offer of assistance from me would be rejected, but you could tell Mrs Wilby there is an anonymous benefactor who wishes to invest