Page 70 of Wedded to the Deviant Duke

And like that, the trap had snapped shut. Gabriel watched as Giles scribbled furiously on his own napkin, then slapped it in the table’s center.

“For being such a good sport,” Gabriel began. “I’ll allow you the choice of going first, or second.”

The crowd went deathly quiet, the tension absolutely suffocating. Giles visibly trembled, but puffed out his chest with false bravado and turned attentively towards Sybella. She nodded and passed a pair of cards to both men, then fixated on Giles.

The seconds stretched on for what felt like hours, every member of both clubs watching intently as the cards passed between hands. Eventually, Giles let out a gasp of air, leaning back in his seat before setting his hand against the table.

“I stand.”

Every eye turned to Gabriel next.

“Suppose it’s my turn, then.” Gabriel gave a casual glance at his cards, then nodded Sybella’s way. She slipped a card between her fingers and offered it his way, and he added it wordlessly to his hand. Again, without barely a glance at his collection, Gabriel gave his hostess a nod.

Once more, she passed him a card. Each exchange seemed to build the pressure in the room, Giles’ eyes flickering wildly between the pair as he began to visibly sweat.

A glance.

A flick of the deck.

Another addition to his hand.

Sybella paused, card set firmly between her fingers. She arched her brow Gabriel’s way, and as he moved to grasp the card, a chair clattered beside him.

“Cheaters! The two of you are cheating!”

CHAPTER31

The dining room erupted with a cacophonous uproar. Orions moved to try and defend their de facto leader, while Devils tried their best to shield Giles Tilbury from being completely massacred. Gabriel himself remained seated, keeping his gaze level with Sybella’s own as she simply stood in place, wearing a coy smile and a fiercely intent gaze.

He wasn’t certain how she’d discovered his ruse, though it was equally possible she hadn’t any inkling at all. She had simply sensed a vague intent, or was drawn in by the impending chaos he would soon cause. Whatever her reasoning, Lady Fitzroy was thoroughly enjoying herself.

It was uncanny, Gabriel realized. As if he’d been staring directly into a mirror.

“What on earth is going on over here?” Tristan’s voice easily carried across the room, he and Christian appearing through the parting crowd. But it wasn’t either man who led the way, nor were they the reason others moved so quickly to the side. That honor stood with the lord of the manor himself; Isaac Cecil, the Duke of Arkley.

With hair cropped so close to his head, it was impossible to ignore the wide myriad of scars across his face. In particular, one that dragged from the top of his brow to the bottom of his chin, vanishing beneath an eyepatch that hinted at whatever void remained of his eye.

He quickly moved to his sister’s side, offering a curious tilt of his head. She silently replied, an unspoken conversation held between the siblings, and Isaac locked onto Giles next, his expression cold and unmoving. Gabriel stood from his chair, allowing Tristan to draw closer to the little marquess. He took his place beside Christian, who looked just as rigid as the other men in power. An unspoken rule had been shattered; there would be hell to pay, one way or another.

“Lord Oslay, I knew you were easy to excite,” Tristan began with a smiling grimace. “But even I don’t have to tell you how incredibly rude it is to accuse anyone—our hostess especially—of such a vulgar act.” He offered a wider grin Sybella’s way, somewhat forcing Giles’ head to bow. “Apologize to our illustrious hostess, for indulging a bit too much in her collection of strong beverages.”

Nervous chuckling rippled throughout the crowd of club members. Gabriel’s gaze lingered on Giles, impressed at how red his face had become.

“I’ll do no such thing!” Giles straightened himself immediately, lurching free from Tristan’s grasp before pointing an accusatory finger Sybella’s way. “I saw her! She was making signs for Stonewell to interpret—they were about to steal my money and a number of estates from me!”

Another wave of incredulous murmurs followed soon after; Gabriel remained still, biding his time and waiting for his moment.

Isaac’s expression remained unmoving, his sister exhaling sharply. “How very dare you, sir. I hardly have any need for a little marquess’ trinkets; take yourself out of my home at once.”

“Prove it, then!” Giles snapped. “Show us the card you were about to give to Gabriel! I saw you, arching your brow his way. I saw you do it before; you planned to humiliate me, just like the duke’s so desperately trying to do!”

“Awfully bold, believing you even cross my mind to begin with.”

The room collectively held its breath as Giles swiveled, glaring daggers as Gabriel spoke up at last. He sighed, feigning irritation, and gestured toward their table. “Well, go on then. If you’re so certain, check my hand.”

“Gabriel,” Christian began.

“No one’s accusing you of anything,” Tristan interjected.

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