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It had been an evening of contrasts. His conversation with Henry Hunt, which had achieved nothing except a mild warning to mind his own business and an unintentional trip into the darker side of the metropolis where the poorest of its inhabitants lived and scurried about like rats. He ought to go there in daylight and learn a little more of their lives. And had his follower been a footpad? Such a one would not have followed him for so long. As soon as he turned off the main road, he would have been on to him and relieved him of his pocket watch and purse, leaving him battered in the gutter. No, this man had been anxious to know where he was going. But why? He had nothing to hide.
The contrast with the dark and sombre night was the light and cheerful evening at Ranelagh, but even here there had been undercurrents. For all she denied it, he knew Miss Cavenhurst had manoeuvred Miss Malthouse to sit next to him, forcing him to be polite to the empty-headed girl. He had only been half listening to her as he’d watched Sophie from across the table. She had been more subdued than usual, as if she had been scolded, and he wondered what about. Could it possibly have been over being called a hoyden and a flirt? She might have a little of the tomboy in her, but he didn’t think she was a flirt. Only someone who felt put out by her would say that. Miss Cassandra Malthouse? He smiled. That was what it was all about, she had said as much, but if either young lady thought he would play their game, they were mistaken. Besides, it was time he paid the promised visit to Mark and then went home to Yorkshire.
Chapter Seven
Surprisingly Teddy was at the breakfast table when Sophie went down next morning. He was morosely stirring a cup of cold coffee.
‘You are up betimes,’ she said, helping herself from the dishes on the sideboard and taking her plate to the table to sit beside him. ‘Could you not sleep?’
‘No. Too much to think about.’
‘Oh, that means you are in a scrape.’ She poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the table.
‘You could say that.’
‘Well, out with it. I assume it is a gambling debt.’
‘More than one.’
‘Oh, Teddy, will you never learn?’
‘I’m sorry, sis.’
She sighed. ‘How much?’
‘A few thousand.’
‘Why do you do it, Teddy? Why put yourself and everyone who loves you through so much worry time after time? It isn’t fair.’
‘I don’t do it on purpose. I can’t seem to help myself. I tell myself I am not going to gamble, but then the opportunity for a big win comes up and I find myself taking a chance...’
‘And losing.’
‘I don’t always lose.’
‘More often than not. You promised Papa...’
‘I know I did. I meant it at the time. I always mean it. I can’t tell him, Sophie, I can’t.’
‘Are you thinking of going to India again?’
‘No, it is not so easy to make a fortune that way now. Besides, I don’t have the blunt to get there.’
‘What are you going to do, then?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose I’ll have to talk to Mark, but Jane will slay me.’
‘And I don’t blame her. Have you so easily forgotten what very nearly happened to her? She was prepared to sacrifice herself to Lord Bolsover to pull you and Papa out of the mire. If it hadn’t been for Mark and Drew and that brave Portuguese gentleman it could very well have happened.’
‘Drew!’ he said suddenly. ‘Do you know where he is?’
‘No. In her last letter Issie said they were going to Singapore.’
‘Oh, he won’t serve, then.’ He paused. ‘Sophie, if you were to find a very rich husband...’
‘Teddy!’
‘Well, you could,’ he said defensively. ‘That’s why you came to London, isn’t it? Take Viscount Kimberley, for instance.’
‘Teddy, I will not take Lord Kimberley, as you so crudely put it. He has no interest in me...’
‘You could change his mind.’
‘I will not even try.’
‘Then you will find me in some back alley with my throat cut.’
‘Do not be so melodramatic. Who would kill you because you can’t pay your debts? That’s not the way to recover them.’
‘It’s the way Toby Moore works.’
‘I knew that man was a bad influence on you. Why, oh, why do you play with him?’
