Free Amberley Chronicles Boxset I: The Impostor Debutante My Last Marchioness the Sister Quest (Amberley Chronicles Boxsets Book 1) by May Burnett Page A

take over if, God forbid, anything should happen to George.
    Yet if his family did not truly need him, might he not therefore more easily please himself – in his lifestyle, friendships, and alliances?
    His thoughts had circled back to the same novel idea. James impatiently called himself to order.
    By the time he and his friends arrived at Denton’s, the hour was advanced to nearly eleven. They were admitted without question. Alphonse had been there before, but the doorkeeper would have recognized them for wealthy toffs in any case, just the sort to keep the establishment in business.
    James slowly walked around the four large, interconnecting rooms, while Alphonse pointed out the different tables to him. In the third room, they ran down their quarry. He was sitting at a table playing dice. It was not James’s favourite game, but it would do. He joined the table.
    Conway was dressed somewhat flashily in a bottle-green coat, with an elaborately tied pale green neck-cloth.
    James raised the stakes.
    “I’m out”, the man sitting to James’s right said. As he left, Alphonse replaced him. It was good to have an ally at his side.
    An hour passed. They diced, paid, won, lost, and diced again. Normally James would have found it dull, but now he was watching the man across the table as a tomcat might watch a mouse. Conway did not quite have the glassy stare of the inveterate gambler yet, but he was getting close.
    To his annoyance, James was not winning as usual, probably, he thought, because for once it mattered. Fortunately it was Alphonse who raked in his money, while Conway was losing even more heavily. Conway began to write I.O.U.s, which Alphonse accepted without comment after exchanging glances with James. The owner of the establishment, Rupert Denton, came to their table and hovered for a while, looking on in concern. One word from him or Alphonse, James knew, and Conway would be asked to leave. They continued dicing. In the end, Conway himself pushed back his chair.
    “I have to be off – how much is the reckoning?”
    Alphonse handed the sheaf of I.O.U.s to James.
    “You add them up, you’ve always been better at maths.”
    James quickly toted up the tally. As he had been able to pay his own more modest losses in cash, the notes all were from Conway.
    “Eight hundred and forty-two pounds, I make it,” he announced. He turned to Conway, who looked slightly ill. “Would you like to double-check?”
    “No need,” Conway said in a strangled voice. “It might take a day or two to send you the money.”
    “That’s no good,” Alphonse said, enjoying himself. “I am leaving town tomorrow afternoon, as the season is nearly over. It would be better to settle this beforehand.”
    “You know what,” James helpfully offered, “I can buy them off you and Conway can pay me back, I’m in town for at least another week.”
    “Fine, then.” Alphonse handed the papers back to James. “Here you are.” He winked at his friend.
    “Let me give you my direction,” James said to Conway, handing him his card. “And your own?”
    “22 Ancester Lane, Bloomsbury,” Conway said after a momentary hesitation. James noted the unfashionable address without comment. “Well then, good bye for now!”
    Conway left. Alphonse and James stood for a moment looking after him. As they were both heartily sick of dicing they began of common accord to move in the direction of the whist room, where their companions were also ready to call it a night.
    “I found out from Denton that Conway has debts in the region of four thousand pounds already,” Alistair told the others as they left. “No visible means of support, so I wonder how he is planning to pay off his debts. So far, apparently, he has always managed to do so.”
    “A rich marriage, maybe?” Bob said doubtfully. “But how is he to pull that off, without a title and important family behind him?”
    “The address in Bloomsbury is not going to impress prospective in-laws,