Page 17 of Suddenly a (The St. Clairs 5)

Chapter Six

Hudson knew HoratioSloane from his infrequent visits to London’s gaming hells. He’d first gone to them when he became a St. Clair. Luke told him it was part of his education in becoming a gentleman. Hudson hadn’t corrected his new brother, knowing society would never accept a duke’s bastard as a gentleman. He was curious, though, about the hells and eager to soak up any information from his outgoing brother.

Luke had given Hudson a stake and then turned him loose. He kept his money in his pocket, not making a single wager the entire night. Instead, he went from table to table, trying to see what the games of chance were about and their rules. When Luke saw Hudson wasn’t going to gamble, he slung an arm about him.

“If your looks didn’t give away that you are a St. Clair, your shrewdness has. Come, little brother. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about gambling.”

They had gone to three establishments the next night and Luke had thoroughly explained the rules of the various games to him. The pair had also gone to the card rooms, where Luke murmured in Hudson’s ear about not only the rules but what to watch for. He learned about tells, ways a player would give away what he held in his hand. After another night of observation, Hudson declared he was ready to gamble.

He tried different games of chance, Luke preaching to him about probability and outcome, and found them a pure form of gambling. His brother also shared ways that the house might cheat its customers and recommended that Hudson stick with cards. He’d told Luke he needed practice before he sat in on a card game, especially because many of the tables had high stakes in order to buy in.

That had led to Luke gathering Evan and Alex and Evan’s friend, Lord Merrifield, convincing the three to teach the newest St. Clair all the tricks of experienced card players. The men had begun by having hands dealt to them face up in order for Hudson to see every card they held. They explained why they kept certain cards and returned others, drawing two or even three.

“Three makes you look too needy,” Merrifield proclaimed. “I’ll keep a low card sometimes and exchange two others just so no one will sense I reek of desperation.”

After a long night of seeing the other players’ hands, Luke determined Hudson was ready for the next step. When they gathered a second time, all cards were dealt face down and the men played accordingly. They would talk through their moves, however, explaining why they took a certain card in order for Hudson to understand their strategies.

By the third time the men played, they dealt Hudson out. Instead, he stood and circulated, viewing each man’s cards and watching how they played them. After an hour, they allowed him to determine what moves to make.

Their fourth time to play, Hudson was allowed to sit in. No one showed his cards. No one explained anything. They played for real.

And Hudson won. Handily.

“It could be the proverbial beginner’s luck,” Alex observed, “but I think with that luck Hudson displays tremendous skill.”

“You’re an exceptional player, Hudson,” Evan praised. “He’s ready to go back for a visit to the gaming hells, Luke. Turn a new St. Clair upon the unsuspecting gamblers of London.”

The next night, Luke did take Hudson back. He was a bit nervous but put all his lessons to good use. He understood when to bluff. When to fold. He watched for the tells of other players and was good at picking up on them. When the night ended, he’d won a decent amount. Not substantial but enough of a profit to return Luke’s stake and have plenty left in his pocket.

Ever since then, Hudson had gone occasionally to the gaming hells for something different to do. He no longer needed the money since he had plenty of his own. He returned merely to keep his skills sharp. That was where he’d come across Horatio Sloane, now Viscount Morrison. Sloane was a sloppy player who seemingly endorsed no strategy, playing on pure gut and losing more often than not. He had two huge tells. His left eyebrow would raise slightly when his hand was good. He cleared his throat when it wasn’t. Hudson knew him to be in heavy debt to several of the houses and had been surprised when Lady Hortense wed Sloane last year.

The new viscountess was another matter.

As a rule, Hudson wasn’t invited totonevents the majority of the time. He might be a St. Clair, but it was on the wrong side of the blanket. Polite Society didn’t include bastards on the invitation list of their social gatherings. Of course, his St. Clair relatives always were eager for his presence at any event they held. A handful of their friends—Morefield, Merrifield, Rutherford, and Neville—made a point of including him in any activity they sponsored. The men and their wives had always been gracious to him. Their guests tolerated his presence, the men more than the women. The men talked horses and boxing and Hudson had boxed against many of them at Gentleman Jack’s. His brother-in-law, Anthony, had gotten Hudson into the sport and he found it an incredible outlet for the emotions he kept hidden inside. Anthony had explained he’d used boxing as a way to focus his anger in a healthy manner when he’d returned from the war and still enjoyed going to the club to keep physically fit.

It was at those few social gatherings he attended that Hudson had come across Lady Hortense. She was the daughter of an earl and Hudson’s same age. Because of that, he’d been at university when she made her come-out, marrying a man twice her own father’s age. The husband had died less than two years after their wedding, leaving Lady Hortense a very young, very wealthy widow. She had garnered quite a reputation as being a tiger both in—and out—of bed after his death. When she’d made known to him her interest in a liaison, he had made an excuse that he was too busy with his current mistress to be entangled further. What Hudson didn’t say was the feral way she’d looked at him had signaled she would be trouble down the line. He liked his lovers undemanding. An affair with Lady Hortense would be far more complicated than he desired. Even if she was a beautiful woman.

Why she’d wed Horatio Sloane, though, had never been made clear. The man had debts up to his ears and would inherit a dilapidated estate. At any rate, Hudson dreaded the upcoming encounter. As his carriage arrived at a lavish townhouse, he decided he would merely play errand boy and give the butler Lady Mia’s letter. He saw no need to see the couple in person.

As he reached the door, he heard another carriage approaching and cursed under his breath.

A butler opened the door and he thrust the letter at him as he heard the vehicle come to a stop behind him. “This is an urgent message for Mr. Sloane,” he said and turned away.

If he kept his head down and his face turned away, he might be able to escape.

“St. Clair? Is that you?”

Damnation.

Hudson turned and saw Sloane standing on the pavement, handing down Lady Hortense. She had been the one to call his name.

“Yes, my lady?” he asked, dreading the upcoming conversation. He would give as little information as possible in order to protect Mia from these vultures.

Mia...

Funny how it seemed perfectly natural to think of her that way and not Lady Mia. He would explore this later. For now, he needed to be on his toes.

“Did you hear me, St. Clair?”

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