Page 21 of An Earl Unmasked
They each took turns discarding and rearranging their hands. Minerva was the first to knock, indicating she was satisfied with her hand. Randal glanced down at the pair of eights; he hoped no one else held the last eight of clubs he needed to ensure a win. When Isadora flipped over the card he so desperately needed and added it to the window, he had never been so glad to be the eldest in the room.
He slowed his nerves and switched out his card. His hand complete, he knocked, ending the round. Everyone revealed their hands. Cunningham, Kent, and Isadora all revealed pairs, but Drake had a diamond flush, and Minerva held an ace-high sequence. Only a tricon would have been Minerva, and he held one with eights. Drake’s frustration at losing was evident, but Randal wasn’t sure if it was due to losing to him or having been bested by Minerva.
Isadora stared at the cards laid out. “Do you see what I see?” The young woman looked up at him, then over to her brother. “Minerva lost.”
While everyone else was looking in disbelief at the cards laid out upon the table, Minerva gave him a wink. The only other person to catch the mischievous look was Drake, who pushed away from the table and stood. “Chestwick, I assume it is your wish for all of us to leave you in peace. My thanks for your hospitality, and please pass my wishes on to Lady Diana for a speedy recovery.”
Isadora was the next to rise from the card table. She placed a kiss upon Minerva’s cheek. “I shall return on the morrow.”
“Weallshall, to check upon Diana.” Kent stood and turned to speak to his brother Greg who was still studying the cards upon the table.
Randal stood, intending to inform Kent and the others that they would not be granted entrance again, but the sadness in Minerva’s gaze trained on Drake’s back tugged on his heart, and for the first time in a very long time, he altered his decision.
He tipped his head in both Cunningham and Kent’s direction as they moved to leave and gave Isadora a smile as she bobbed a quick curtsy and rushed to follow her brother out the door.
Greg spread out the discarded pile and said, “You knocked two full turns before Chestwick, the probability of you winning was still in your favor.”
“My plan had naught to do with Lord Chestwick. Diana made me promise to dispatch the others as quickly and economically as possible, and I kept my word.”
He did appreciate Minerva’s effective methods. But he didn’t care to see the pain in the woman’s eyes when Drake had all but given her the cut direct when he failed to bid Minerva farewell. Unrequited love was difficult to witness.
Minerva stood and excused herself, claiming a walk in the gardens in the fresh air would be nice. Greg silently accompanied his sister out the terrace doors. A knot twisted in his stomach. The misty quality of Minerva’s eyes as she left the room reminded him of the day his mama summoned him to her chambers and informed him that there was no healing from her ailment. He couldn’t prevent his mama’s death, but mayhap he could help Minerva.
In order to accomplish such a feat, he would need to gain as much insight as possible into Minerva’s predicament. Diana. She would be able to provide him with the intel he required. He strode to the door and paused—what was he doing, formulating excuses to spend more time with Diana?
Randal retraced his steps back to the table and glanced down at the playing cards lain askew.Astonishing.The Malburys were blessed with sharp minds. It was no small feat to perform the complex calculation with all the cards revealed, let alone while during play. Diana was right. Minerva was an excellent strategist.
As Randal knew all too well, there were times when skillful tacticians got lost in their own schemes. Exiting the library, Randal headed directly back to Diana’s chambers. With each step he took, he attempted to convince himself his motives were purely for Minerva’s benefit. But that was a lie—he was seeking out Diana’s company purely to relieve himself of the hollow feeling that had engulfed him since he had left her side.
Chapter Eleven
The methodical heavybooted footsteps that were quickly becoming familiar were getting louder. Diana gathered the slew of papers scattered over the bed. She wasn’t quick enough before the door to her bed chambers swung open. “Randal! You are supposed to scratch at the door and wait for my command to enter. What if I hadn’t been decent?”
“It is in the middle of the day—why wouldn’t you be decent?”
Diana blinked at her host. Was he teasing her? There had been a lightness to his tone she’d never heard before. He must have enjoyed spending time with her family and neighbors. They were, for the majority of the time, rather fun.
“Where is Minerva?”
“Out for a walk in the gardens with your brother.”
“You can’t be in here.”
“My house, my rules.” He pointed to the stack of parchment tightly gripped in her hands. “What have you there?”
“Notes I’ve compiled.”
He rested his hip against the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Attempting to solve my papa’s puzzle without the aid of the library or me?”
“I still do not recall asking for your assistance. Access to the library, however, would be helpful.”
He pushed off the bed and walked over to the window. “How long has Minerva been in love with Drake?”
“What makes you believe my sister is in love with Lord Drake?”
“Am I wrong—is she not in love with the man?”
“Rather than us continuing to answer each other’s questions with a question—a game I play quite often with my siblings—I propose for each answer I provide, I’m granted an hour in the library.”
