Amy Lake by The Marquess Takes a Fall Read Free Book Online

mistake—
    “Cards,” said Lord Ashdown, not beating about the bush. “He made quite a bit of money at pharo, and there was evidence, later, that the play was not fair.”
    “Gods.”
    Fortunes—real fortunes—were won and lost at the gaming tables of London, and to be known as a cheat was the end of a gentleman’s reputation.
    “I suppose that means he’s unlikely to go back,” said Dee. “We’ll never be rid of him.”
    “Probably so, I’m afraid.”
    They could both tell, from the set of her shoulders, that Fiona’s patience was wearing thin.
    “I should see about this,” said the doctor, and left.
    Colin watched as he re-appeared, moments later, in the garden. He saw the relief on Mrs. Marwick’s face, and the wary look in Sir Irwin’s eyes. Dee slapped him on the back in jovial greeting, and the marquess imagined that he could hear the man’s teeth rattle, even from inside the house.
    Why is he here? wondered Colin. Madelaine says he wants to marry her mother, but Mrs. Marwick is clearly not fond of him, Dr. Fischer hates him, and if Maddie liked him at all she would be out there this moment, showing off her dog whelk. It was puzzling, and although Lord Ashdown was not normally a man to involve himself in other people’s business, he found that lying in bed for a week or two gave one an increased appreciation for the small mysteries in life.
     

Chapter 8: The Baronet of Something-or-Other
     
    Sir Irwin Ampthill, baronet of Ferndale, had lived in Marsden Hall for the past several years, which made him a rank newcomer in the eyes of the village. He was an average gentleman in some ways; of standard height and build, with straight brown hair that was thinning slightly on top. On the other hand, he wore ton fashions in County Durham, a very un- ton world, and had he not been so insufferably self-assured he might have felt embarrassment at the comments elicited by his dress.
    “Ruddy peacock, he is. Why’d a man need shirt points up to his flaming’ ears?”
    Others were less flattering. Ampthill employed a few villagers as servants, and even though the employment was appreciated, the baronet paid his help poorly and clearly viewed them as necessary evils in the life of a fine gentleman; they repaid this treatment by describing the goings-on at Marsden Hall to the rest of Barley Mow. Usually these stories were reported of an evening at the one small village tavern, and if a bit of embellishment occurred, ’twas all part of the fun.
    Very secretive, Sir Irwin was, the footman said, adding that they’d all had instructions to claim the baronet was not-at-home to anyone at the door.
    “Stays in ’is study an’ drinks,” added another, “and he’s a right nuisance to clean up after.”
    Sir Irwin was said to be clever about money, and to have been fortunate in business dealings in the City, even if the type of business was unclear. Marsden Hall itself was the largest establishment in the area, but ’twas a poor excuse for the home of an aristocrat, even a baronet, and everyone knew it. The fireplaces smoked, there was rising damp in the walls, and no amount of cleaning could quite erase the smell. The place had been left empty for a decade prior to Sir Irwin’s arrival, and the village had been quite surprised when he showed up, keen to take on the lease.
    If the villagers had little praise for the man, they also had little to truly complain about. Lord Ashdown was entirely correct concerning the baronet’s reputation in London, but Sir Irwin kept himself honest in Barley Mow. He made no wagers, and never played cards at all, although it was admittedly difficult to think of someone who would be willing to sit down with him. He did not stay the entire year at Marsden Hall, leaving occasionally for weeks at a time, and it was rumored that he owned several other residences.
    No-one in the village knew for sure where he went, or cared to ask.
      * * * *
    Fiona closed her eyes and sighed, as the