Lost Bride Chapter 19

SEVENTEEN

THE PLAN

Angus pulled out his cards and faro board and proceeded to spend the next afternoon tutoring Lucy and Wendy on the card game of faro. They hoped simply to watch, but they needed to know how to play if they were to detect any cheating. Every moment spent practicing would make them readier.

Having voiced some concerns, the captain put on his best clothes and went calling on an old friend. Rory was off to the inn to gather what information he could about Skeates. Meanwhile, Effie disappeared on errands unknown.

The late-afternoon November sun made its early descent to the hilly horizon as Rory was first to return. He closed the door and bumped into a table on his way across the room.

Angus looked up. “I dinnae ken what you’ve learned, but your mood’s looking better.”

Rory’s grin prompted Angus to laugh. “Good God, man, you’re sottered!”

Lucy furrowed her brow. “Sottered?”

Angus’s eyes sparkled with glee. “Your lad’s drunk.”

Rory plopped down on a chair and nearly lost his balance in the process. “Aye, well, I had a wee dram or two as I listened to some interesting stories—well, one story, really, but one repeated across Easter Ross.”

“Skeates.” Lucy handed the card deck to Angus, who finished packing up the faro board.

Rory’s mouth turned up at the corner. “Aye.”

Lucy smiled. “Easy there, laddie.” When he looked at her with a furrowed brow, she added proudly, “How’s my accent?”

He grasped her hand and looked up with the most adorably boyish smile she’d ever seen. “Dinnae change for me, bonnie Lucy. I love you too much.”

Lucy caught an amused look from her mother just before Rory pulled her onto his lap and circled his arms about her waist.

“Effie must have some coffee around here.” Wendy suppressed her amusement as she settled for tea and put the kettle over the fire.

As Rory nuzzled his way down Lucy’s neck, she caught Angus grinning and gently extricated herself from Rory’s embrace, stepping away as he reached out. “Rory. Why don’t you tell us all about Mr. Skeates?”

He grinned then grew somber. “You ken I’d do anything for you.” His eyes moistened.

Astonished, Lucy nodded then glanced with wonder at Angus.

He shrugged. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

Rory heard him and said, “Everyone feels terrible about what happened. They all insisted on buying me drinks. I couldnae disappoint them.”

“Oh, I doubt anyone’s been disappointed.” Lucy combed her fingers through Rory’s hair as he drifted off for a nap by the fire.

In a half hour’s time, Rory awoke and had sobered enough to regale them with stories of Mr. Skeates’s exploits. By then, the captain had returned, having secured an invitation to the upcoming party.

From what Rory had gathered from his friends at the inn, a dozen or so people in Easter Ross shared similar suspicions about Mr. Skeates, although no one had lost as much as the Munros had. Still, too many had lost, and it had happened too neatly. A tide of displeasure was rising. Few people thought Skeates would last long in these parts. Although Swordale had vouched for the man, ensuring that any doubts would remain unvoiced out of deference to him, fewer and fewer were sitting down at his gaming table. Rory imagined Skeates would sense the tide turning before long and move on to other fishing grounds. If they were right about the man, that was a pattern he’d repeated countless times before coming there.

Effie returned after dark.

“We were worried about you,” Wendy said before anyone else could voice like concerns.

Effie set down her creel of peat. She unloaded the top layer of bricks to reveal crumpled silk.

“My gown!”

Effie smiled and pulled out Lucy’s best gown and the undergarments that went with it.

“And my slippers! But how did you get this?”

“My friend Annie, who works as a chambermaid there, has been sneaking our clothing down the servants’ stairway to Mrs. MacEddie. I’ll be stopping by to visit Mrs. MacEddie on my way back from the peat bogs for the next few days. If anyone asks, she’ll tell them I’ve been trying to peddle my peat to the castle. They’ll pity me but think nothing more of it.”

Angus’s eyes shone. “Effie, you’re a wonder!”

Her eyes flickered toward him, but she turned and put her creel in the corner. “In a few trips, I should have all the clothes that you’ll need for your party.”

Rory’s expression darkened. “Effie, you cannae do this.”

“But I already have, and I will do it again until I’ve finished.”

“Effie.” Angus stared as though he’d never really seen her.

For the first time since Lucy had known him, Angus was speechless.

But Rory was not. “Do you ken if you’re caught, you’ll be thrown into jail and tried as a common thief? You’d be transported. It’s too risky. I cannae allow it.”

Effie stopped her supper preparations. “Rory, I thank you for your concern, but I’m no longer your responsibility. I dinnae need your permission.” Effie turned and went on with her cooking, while the Munro men offered no further protest.

At some point, the balance had shifted among them. They were six people on equal footing, all working together. Some wanted to reclaim old lives, while others wished to build new ones. But regardless of wishes or wants or of how the current situation turned out, they would not be the same.

On the night

of the party, they were all dressed and ready to go. Effie had spent the day pressing their clothing and fixing Wendy’s and Lucy’s hair. Effie was too well known as a maid in the area to risk posing as a guest with the others, so she stayed behind. They didn’t have access to a proper carriage, so they borrowed a wagon and horses to take them to the baron’s estate. The plan was to leave the horses and wagon tethered to a tree out of sight then walk over the hill to the home. If need be, they would offer an excuse about a broken wheel or lame horse.

By the time they arrived, a thin coating of snow covered the ground. Lucy wore patens to protect her fragile silk shoes during the walk to the house, but she and her mother still had to take great pains to lift their skirts and keep them from getting wet or soiled. They managed to make it inside looking as though they’d stepped down from a carriage outside of the door. With smiles and sighs of relief, they were ready to take on the evening.

There’d been a good deal of discussion over the accents. Since neither Lucy nor Wendy knew when the American accent had developed, they took a chance that being from foreign soil would be enough to explain away their unusual speech. To be safe, they planned to leave as much talk as possible to the men. While Wendy saw it as sort of a game, Lucy thought it might be the most challenging part of the evening. But there they were, and she was determined to make the evening the success that it desperately needed to be.

“Miss Buchanan, you look lovely,” Rory said with an admiring smile.

She thanked him as she looked about the room. Perhaps two dozen guests stood about, talking. Her pulse raced.

He leaned closer and slipped his hand in hers. “I’m right here.”

Lucy took a deep breath and exhaled. “Okay. Here we go.” She looked over to find her mother on the captain’s arm, looking as if she’d spent her whole life rubbing elbows with nobles.

After a blur of introductions, they made their way to a room with a wall of tall windows covered with pale-blue silk brocade curtains and velvet-upholstered chairs. A table was set up in the corner with a faro board and cards. A small group was quietly playing. Rory cast a knowing look at Angus, who appeared poised and ready. Angus had sworn off gambling, and they lacked money with which to gamble, anyway. While the captain had produced a secret stash of bank notes and jewels, they’d all agreed it could only be used as a last resort.

They set about observing the card play. Although Angus insisted he would be all right, Lucy had never felt comfortable bringing him there. But he knew far more than any of them about the game, which would make him the most likely to detect any irregularities. So despite this being the last place Angus needed to be, they took a chance for the sake of the cause. Even without playing, theirs were the highest stakes in the room.

Throughout the evening, a number of guests surreptitiously offered the Munro men words of support and encouraging nods. Angus may have had his problems, but the family was highly respected in spite of their spectacular loss of financial standing. A handful of people had begged off of the game and stood watching. They confided to Rory that Mr. Skeates had taken enough from their pockets over the past several weeks that they would rather give someone else a turn to lose. There were murmurs that Lucy couldn’t hear, but from the way people eyed Skeates, it wasn’t a far leap to conclude there were others who shared their suspicions.

The Munro party spread out and positioned themselves in strategic locations about the table so they were poised to see from all angles. While Angus had taught them the rudiments of the game, there were so many nuances Lucy hadn’t been able to grasp in the short time they’d had. And this game moved much faster than their practice game in the croft. In addition to the speed of play, Angus hadn’t told them how quietly engrossed all the players would be. The air was electric. She supposed she would have been as intensely involved in a game that could cost her everything she owned in the world.

As one hour then another wore on, Lucy grew weary and had to work harder to maintain concentration. After all of their trouble, perhaps Skeates was simply too good for her to notice him cheating. Or maybe he wasn’t cheating at all. Maybe Angus had simply suffered a string of bad luck.

Then it happened. Skeates drew the queen of diamonds. Hadn’t she seen the same card at play earlier in the game? She looked at Rory then at each of the others, but no one seemed bothered. Baron Campbell was acting as casekeeper, charged with adjusting an abacus-like device to keep track of the cards as they were drawn. He was only then moving a disc to show that the queen of diamonds card had been played. Had Lucy been recalling that card from a previous round?

She wanted to discuss it with Angus, or even Rory. He’d played faro before. But it was as quiet as a church in the room, and she didn’t want to risk drawing anyone’s notice. As the next round began, she kept a sharp eye on the cards and the casekeeper, trying to keep track of the cards that were played. It wasn’t a perfect system, but it was the best she could do.

As the last ace was drawn, the baron moved the marker as was proper, but three turns later, she noticed it had been moved back. If a dealer and casekeeper worked together, it wouldn’t be that difficult to get away with cheating. Yet no one else seemed aware of the discrepancy. Was she the one in error? She waited and watched. If another ace appeared, she would have proof. But one had not appeared.

They were nearly at the end of the deck when one of the players asked if this would be the last card before Skeates called the turn. Thanks to Angus’s teaching, she remembered that the final round was played with the final three cards of the deck.

Skeates turned over the next card. There it was—a fifth ace. Lucy watched the casekeeper move the marker for the aces, which he’d already done in this round. She looked at Rory, Angus, and the others. But with no confirmation from them, she had to rely upon her recollection. If she called him on it, she risked having him hide the extra card, leaving her looking foolish and, worse, missing what might be their best chance to expose Skeates. There was no time to think.

Either way, she was going to look foolish. She started to stand but pretended to lose her balance. She fell, grabbing the table where the stack of cards lay, and she took the deck down with her. All that remained were the last three cards on the table, which were visible to all.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” As she rose, she knocked a drink onto Skeates’s lap. As he sprang to his feet and looked down at the spill, Lucy handed the deck over to Angus. “Oh, look what I’ve done! Mr. Munro, would you mind counting these cards, please? I’d hate to think that I’d lost one when I fell.”

Angus gave her a questioning look, which she met with her most direct stare. Next, she discovered why men used to help ladies so much. As she tried to rise, she kept stepping on the voluminous folds of her skirts. If it weren’t for Rory, she might never have made it to her feet. At least that portion of her histrionics was believable.

Once on her feet, Lucy joined a curious audience of over a dozen players and onlookers as Angus counted. “Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty cards.” Angus looked first at Skeates then at the baron. “And we all ken there are three on the table.”

“Fifty-three cards.” Rory eyed Skeates. “Isn’t that one too many?”

Skeates had no place to go. They’d set up the game in a corner, presumably to conceal their actions on the dealer’s side of the table. But now Skeates was trapped in his own scheme.

“Lord Campbell, may we be civilized about this?” the captain asked.

“You have my word,” the baron answered.

Skeates made a run for it, but the numerous people he’d swindled were happy to catch and restrain him.

After Skeates was secured, the baron said, “I owed him too much. He forced me to assist him, or he’d have taken all this from me. I never wanted to do it.”

“We’ll sort it all out in court,” the captain said.

Rory eyed Skeates for a moment then turned to the baron. “My lord, do you have anyplace we can hold him until we can send for the proper authorities?”

The baron’s eyes brightened. “It’s never used anymore, but we do have a dungeon.”

“Allow me,” Angus said, gripping Skeates’s arm. Rory grabbed hold of the other, and they escorted Mr. Skeates to the baronial dungeon.