A Wager for Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

house, and the day was already well advanced.
    Lavinia saw, and correctly interpreted his look. It was time to make her request. “There is just one thing before I leave.”
    “Yes, my dear,” he replied genially.
    “I shall need seventy thousand guineas.”
    The banker swallowed, wondering if he had heard correctly. However, one look at the set face before him was sufficient to dispel any notions that he had been mistaken. “Er, you did say seventy thousand?”
    Lavinia inclined her head wordlessly.
    “I see, a matter of utmost urgency, I collect?” Mr. Hoare had not been a banker to the nobility for fifty years without learning to recognise gaming debts when he saw them. But this girl. For the first time he began to doubt the wisdom of the Countess’s will. Seventy thousand guineas. It was not to be thought of. He shrugged to himself and rang the bell on his desk. Within seconds the door opened to admit the clerk who Lavinia had seen earlier.
    “NaturaIly, you will need a draft. To carry such a large amount in gold would not be safe. Besides, it would scarcely fit in your reticule.” he added dryly. “Now, Simpson, I want a draft on Miss Davenham’s account for seventy thousand guineas.” The banker turned back to Lavinia. “To whom is it to be made payable my dear?”
    Lavinia thought quickly. “No-one, I shall require it to be blank.”
    Seeing his clerk’s eyes fixed on Miss Davenham with awed fascination, the banker amended, “A blank draft, Simpson.” He was beginning to see more of the late Dowager in her granddaughter with every passing minute. When the clerk returned with the draft, he handed it to Lavinia without another word, giving her his arm and carefully escorting her from the room.
    Once free of the bank, Lavinia heaved a sigh of relief, blushing a little as she recalled certain shrewd and assessing glances cast at her by the banker. Still she had the draft. That was the main thing, and now for the second part of her mission. Squaring her shoulders, cheeks flushed, but head held high, she signalled to a couple of chairmen, addressing the first man to step forward in slightly hesitant tones. “I wish to have the direction of the man who is the heir to the Earl of Saltaire, do you know it?”
    She waited anxiously for his reply.
    If the chairman found it strange that a young lady, completely unescorted, should be enquiring as to the address of such a notable personage, he did not betray it. He pushed his wig back and pondered for a moment. “Saltaire, you say. I dunno, I’m new to these ‘ere parts.”
    Lavinia’s heart sank. or all the misfortunes, for her to pick a chairman who was unfamiliar with the City. However, help was quickly forthcoming. The other bearer stepped forward to see what the delay was. “What’s that you say, Miss?” he asked. “Saltaire? Aye, it’s all right, Charlie, I knows where it is.” He winked knowingly at his companion. “In you gets, Miss. We’ll have you there in a trice. Aye and we won’t charge you more than six-pence. It isn’t every day we get such a pretty face.”
    Blushing fiercely, Lavinia climbed into the box. She was still not used to the free and easy ways of the Londoners. In Rome the distinctions between the classes had been clear cut and strictly adhered to. For a few moments the chair bumped uncomfortably over the cobbles. At last it came to a standstill, and the chair was set down. The chairman banged on the roof. “Here we are, Miss, that’s it, over there.”
    She followed the direction of his pointing finger. They were in Grosvenor Square and the house they had stopped outside of was a large and extremely grim-looking mansion.
    Gathering up her skirts she tossed the man a shilling, and feeling more than a little nervous walked determinedly up to the door. The footman who opened the door to her imperious knock, gaped at her open-mouthed. He had been long enough in his present Master’s service to know that the type of women he