A Little Bit Scandalous Page 0,53

looked up quickly and his features came into focus.

“Mr. Bishop, before we are to wed, I believe there are a few things about me that you must know.”

He smiled, quiet for once.

“I have a penchant for gambling.” Might as well make her card playing sound as nefarious as she could manage. “I’m not satisfied with the games ladies play so I taught myself Vingt-et-un and I’m quite good.”

“A little healthy competition never hurt anyone,” he said.

“I’m so relieved to hear you say that. Not all men would be so forward thinking, allowing their wives to don a disguise, dress as a man and sneak into gaming hells to play. But you, you Mr. Bishop, are an American and obviously at the forefront of modern thinkers. I should be honored to be your wife,” she said, and nearly choked on the words. “Now tell me, what sort of gaming hells do they have in America?”

He held his hand up, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “Are you suggesting that you have disguised yourself as a boy and gone into gambling houses and played? Dressed as a man?”

“Oh yes, many times.” She smiled and winked at him. “The disguise must be quite good because no one has ever realized the truth of the matter.”

“Is this something all Englishwomen do? I thought you were a creature of high upstanding moral character.”

“Heaven’s no, I would be quite shamed if people discovered my activities. But you with your forward thinking and contemporary attitude…”

He shook his head. “No, no, no. I am not forward thinking. I came here to England to find a wife who wouldn’t talk back to me. Not like all the mouthy girls back in America who speak every opinion that lands in their brain. I thought if I came here and found a nice Englishwoman and brought her home, then New York Society would have to accept me. And I’d know I had the best wife of them all because she would do as I say and be so pretty on my arm.”

The man was utterly deluded. Certainly the sort of woman he spoke of didn’t exist. But even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it wasn’t true. If he wanted a woman like that, he could assuredly find one here in London.

“I cannot marry you, Miss Jellico, you are simply not the woman I thought you were.”

Caroline’s plans didn’t always go accordingly, but this one had worked perfectly. She schooled her features to attempt to appear disappointed. “Yes, well that is certainly understandable. Now if you don’t mind, I should prefer to return home.”

Mr. Bishop didn’t say a word the entire ride back to Roe’s townhome.

…

Roe sat in his study looking at The Times. He couldn’t say he was actually reading it, but it did lay open faced on his desk and his eyes were trained on the words. But nothing really translated from the newspaper to his mind. His thoughts were elsewhere. He had only played at Rodale’s once this week, but more alarming still was the fact that he didn’t actually miss it. Cards had been the very center of his social calendar for many years, and yet he’d found himself otherwise engaged as of late.

The butler stepped inside the study after a brief scratch at the door. “Your Grace, there is a Mr. Nigel Lamb here to see you. Shall I tell him you are busy?” Grimm’s eyes glanced at the desk, then back up at Roe. “You do appear quite preoccupied.”

“No, send him in. I should like to hear what the man has to say.” More than likely the man came for more funds. Or perhaps Mrs. Hancock had told Mr. Lamb of Roe and Caroline’s visit yesterday and he’d come to explain himself.

Roe doubted that though. Whatever Nigel Lamb’s scheme was, Roe would wager the man wasn’t too eager to give it up. Mr. Lamb had been pilfering money from Dover House for quite some time. Roe had had his solicitor look into other vendors associated with the orphanage and had discovered more discrepancies. But the man had been careful because nothing Roe had found offered any conclusive proof to wrong management of the funds.

A moment later, the man in question was introduced into Roe’s study. Roe didn’t bother standing; he motioned to the seats in front of his desk.

“Mr. Lamb, to what do I owe this visit?”

Nigel stepped forward and bowed. “Your Grace, thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”