Page 117 of The Lord Meets His Lady
The room exploded with chatter and chairs banging tables. Samuel backed away, his blanched face the only sign of discomfort.
“Well played.” Barnard slapped the Prussian’s back as they walked away.
Marcus sat alone, staring at his cards. The widow cards. He should’ve played them. He reached for the first widow to see what it was.
“Don’t second-guess yourself.” Hard lines bracketed Samuel’s mouth.
Marcus blinked, tried to speak, but no words came.
“Go home,” Samuel said for Marcus’s ears alone. “See to your wife’s safety. I’d wager the Wolf plans to destroy you and steal her.”
A jovial Barnard raised a toast with the Prussian and Lord Stoneleigh. Herr Wolf peered coldly their way before giving his attention to another man who joined their circle. Genevieve sought Marcus’s hand on the table and gave it a squeeze. Her hold was a lifeline in a sea of failure.
“I lost our best horse…the stud,” he said numbly.
“I know.”
“We’re finished without him.”
Genevieve was a whisper of silk and succor beside him. “Your venture will go on.”
“Not without a prime male to service the mares, it won’t,” he groused overloud.
“Then you’ll find a way to get the stallion back,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Don’t give up, milord.”
“Not likely. At best I’ve ruined our business.” His voice grating, he glanced at the doorway where Samuel exited. “At worst, I’ve lost a friend.”
“He’s hurting right now, but he’ll be back.” She rubbed Marcus’s arm. “Your friendship is solid. Truth is, you need each other.”
Had he pushed the limits of their friendship? And there was the mystery of Lord Barnard and Herr Wolf. The game tonight. The cards.
What had he missed?
