Page 30 of Love Unraveled
Lord Bertram slid off his stool and offered it to her. She sat and adjusted the folds in her dress, shifting her shoulders so her neckline dropped a tiny bit. She looked up to find the duke staring at her. She disregarded him by immediately turning her attention to Lord Bertram.
“I have seen it done. It is easy to play, no?”
“Of course, my lady. We are about to commence a new game. Would you care to be a punter?”
“Oh, that sounds entirely naughty, so yes.”
The men around her laughed appreciatively, and Lord Bertram took some metal coins from his velvet purse. “I shall loan you some counters.”
“Place your bet, your counter,” Lord Bertram said, holding up the metal coin etched with his insignia and rolling it through his fingers before placing it on the two of spades, “on the card you predict the banker may draw as the winning one. Or if you’d prefer,” he continued, moving the token onto the ten of spades, “on the card you think may be considered the losing card.”
She studied the suit of spades set out numerically on the table and chose to place her counter on the queen. While she did not turn around, she could sense Gaston standing behind her. She could also feel the weight of the duke’s stare. She deliberately tucked a pinky under her neckline and traced its edge slowly, wetting her lips as she watched the dealer take a card from a small box and set it aside. He extracted another one, a king of hearts, and set it to the right of the small box. A few men groaned, and she quickly noted the king of spades had three checks on it. The dealer drew a third, which he slowly flipped over, revealing the queen of diamonds.
“You have won the round, Countess Tessaro,” Lord Bertram said cheerfully.
Sophia clapped her hands excitedly, although she could care less whether she’d won. What mattered was the men were focused on the game and not worried about her presence or, it seemed, Gaston’s. She hoped it boded well for renewed conversation.
She continued to place her tokens on cards, winning more times than not. Most of the men applauded her success, but the duke grew more and more sullen. She did note he seemed to be losing the majority of rounds. She smiled, enjoying her triumph over him, and he turned from her and nodded at the dealer to continue.
It would seem she had been too precipitous in her gloating, as she lost the remaining rounds.
“Would you enjoy another game, my lady?” Lord Bertram was a pleasant man and seemed unperturbed by his own losses in the game.
“Not at the moment, thank you. I shall simply watch for a while. Please, Lord Bertram, have my seat. I shall have my man settle with you tomorrow.”
She pivoted on the stool, smiling as Gaston assisted her to her feet. They backed out of the way as the banker reshuffled the deck and put it carefully in the small box while the men placed their various counters on their cards of choice. They grew louder after the first few rounds, and Sophia debated if there was any point standing around any longer. It would be impossible to overhear any conversation now anyway.
“Perhaps we should leave. It would seem my luck has run out tonight,” Sophia said into Gaston’s ear, although she was not referring to the game.
“You did not run out of luck. The banker cheated. Those doublets he pulled toward the end of the game were likely planted. Twice I saw the quick sleight of hand that allowed him to see the card, and when the men were more attentive to your breasts than the board, he shifted tokens.”
“How did I not notice?”
Gaston raised both eyebrows. “You were busy playing your games while he was playing his. As was your duke.”
“The duke?” Sophia did not doubt men cheated at gaming hells, or perhaps at Almack’s or their clubs, but surely not here at a private ball among friends. And certainly not the duke. He was no rule breaker. “No, you are mistaken. No gentleman cheats at cards.”
“I will not argue that.” Gaston leaned in closer. “And your duke did.”
Sophia was not convinced. “Why would you say such a thing?”
“Because the tokens the banker shifted belonged to the duke.”
“No!” Sophia recalled the look exchanged between the dealer and the duke. She had thought the duke was merely telling the man to continue. Could Gaston be correct? Was he so resentful of her winning a silly game that he would resort to cheating?
Suddenly, the night seemed too much. The long, dull dinner. Her spat with the duke. Gaston’s unexpected appearance. The entrancing dance with him. Her failure to learn of anything to help the war effort and now the duke behaving dishonorably. And the memories. So many memories.
“Take me home, Gaston.Maintenant.”
Chapter Twenty-One
My soul has many wounds
That you cannot cure.
—Marceline Desbordes-Valmore, “The Flower Returned”
“Take me home,Gaston.Maintenant.”
