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“How she has such nerve to treat us so coldly is beyond me,” Colonel Branch muttered with rancor. It was obvious to Marco that the man had been sent on his way with a flea in his ear.
“She acts like royalty, not a child got on a light skirted lady’s maid!” Baron Thompson exclaimed, throwing his card into the hat. “Honestly, it is not as if Fitzroy even secretly groomed her for the role! He ignored her up until the last.”
So they were speaking of Miss Fitzroy. Marco felt a rush of overwhelming revulsion. He clenched his fists and struggled not to show it.
“And yet you wish for her hand in marriage?” he asked, keeping his tone light and interest hidden.
“Oh, Alegria, isn’t it?” Hackman laughed. “That is inaccurate. We are wishing to avoid her hand.”
“Aye, Fitzroy wrote to us all before he died. He told us of his plans and hoped that one of us might take on the mantle of his dukedom when he was gone,” Lord Fife said, sipping his brandy.
“The old man was a fool about many things, but not his money,” Hackman sneered. “He thought it the best way to ensure it was protected, for surely that little ninny of a kitchen maid could not be trusted to choose a proper husband. And it seems he was right, for she will not have any of us, so we decided to concentrate our efforts.”
“The unlucky bachelor will marry the Ice Queen. The rest of us shall retreat and ensure no other suitors sniff around for her, thus removing any competition.” Baron Thompson took a puff on his cigar and grinned. “Then, when the loser has the old Duke’s money, he shall make our trouble worth our while.”
“Did the Duke also write to you, Alegria?” Colonel Branch asked. Marco didn’t even think twice about his answer.
“He did,” Marco said. “So I feel that I must put my name in.”
He began to jot down his name on the back of the ace of hearts. His own heart was thundering inside his chest, raw and bursting with anger, and all he could think of was that he could not allow these gentlemen to form such a scheme against Miss Fitzroy. He may have plans against her, but they were not for selfish reasons. Marco sought to right a wrong. These gentlemen only sought to line their pockets. Marco was sure he could never be called an innocent, but to allow these gentlemen to get away with their scheming would be unconscionable. He would feel complicit in the cruel manipulation of Miss Fitzroy. He found that it did not sit well. Quickly, Marco thought of a plan, for he needed to ensure that his was the card drawn.
“I shall draw,” Hackman said.
“Now, that hardly seems appropriate,” Marco said, snatching the hat from Hackman’s grasp. “Since you are also invested, Hackman. I propose we have a servant do the drawing. That way, no one can claim it was not fair.”
“Hear, hear! Better keep it neutral, otherwise, Hackman might be tempted to slip his card out of the hat. We all know the Ice Queen is the most frosty towards him!”
Marco had no skill with sleight of hand, but there was one thing he had learned from his cousin’s unsavory past. Money motivated almost everyone. He handed the cap to the servant with his back to the group, hiding the cap from their sight. Holding the servant's gaze, he showed the man his card while sliding a crisp note into his pocket. Marco watched his eyes widen before his face went carefully blank. Marco was sure he wouldn’t hesitate to take the bribe, for undoubtedly, the banknote now residing in his pocket was more than the young man could make in three months.
“I saw both her and her uppity mother many times while they were nothing but servants. The chit has no right to pretend she is better than me,” Hackman snapped. “She needs a husband to restrain her tongue and keep her in line.”
Marco tried not to let his anger take hold of him. Miss Fitzroy deserved more than a swindler like Hackman. He firmed his resolve and was sure he was doing the right thing. Hackman was a nasty piece of work. If he was her only suitor, he worried that she could actually be in some real danger. The man was known for his cruel treatment of his mistresses. Marco didn't suppose he would treat a wife any better, especially one he disdained. Just the way he spoke of her made his hackles raise.
“Well, let us see who it is,” Marco said neutrally. “Best of luck, all.”
The men watched as the servant dipped his hand into the hat and slowly pulled Marco’s card out. There was laughter around him, gentleman clapping him on the back, but Marco noticed Hackman’s face was utterly sour. He wondered if, for all his protestations, Hackman would have eagerly endured the chill of Miss Fitzroy to have access to her fortune.
“Bad luck, Alegria,” Colonel Branch chortled.
“I do not think so,” Marco said evenly, sweeping the cards out of the cap and rifling them in his hand. “I’ll be keeping these just in case you gentlemen take it in your head to tell anyone about this unsavory business.”
The atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted. The gentlemen seemed to realize they had been playing this game with the infamous Marquess of Bath's cousin, who had served Lucifer of London for so many years. Marco grinned to himself. Sometimes his cousin’s past was useful.
“Hang on, Alegria. What about the agreed-upon compensation?” Lord Fife protested.
“Compensation for what?” Marco said, glaring at the young upstart lord. “You have all gotten what you wanted. None of you will be forced to marry the Ice Queen.”
“Does that mean you got what you wanted, Alegria?” Hackman asked shrewdly. Marco smiled slowly and tucked the playing cards with their incriminating signatures into his jacket pocket. Hackman looked around at the other men and suddenly seemed unsure.
“I rely on your discretion, gentlemen. Otherwise, I shall be forced to reveal what an underhanded game you have all engaged in. I doubt your fond mamas, strict fathers, or prospective brides would look favorably on this,” Marco said pleasantly. The shocked expressions on each of their faces told him that he had hit his mark.
“But you also participated!” Baron Thompson declared loudly.
“Can you prove that?” Marco asked, shrugging. “No, you cannot since there is no card with my name upon it.”
With that, Marco tossed the card with his name into the fire and watched it burn. He smiled at them before turning to leave the room.
“I bid you all a good evening, gentlemen,” he said, closing the door behind him. Now at least Miss Fitzroy would be safe from the likes of Hackman and the other cads in that room. But as he walked away, the true enormity of what he had done crashed into him. He had just pledged to marry the daughter of his sworn enemy.
