Page 2 of Trapped with her Cruel Duke

Northbridge eventually turned to look up at him, his face contorting with thinly veiled disgust.

Oh, this will be immensely gratifying.

“What is it, Egerton?” the Earl muttered.

“It is ‘Your Grace’ to you.” Christian reached into the inner pocket of his coat and threw down the paper that had been burning against his skin for the entire evening.

Two nights ago, Christian witnessed another sorry display from this man. Northbridge had bet the deed to his townhouse at a game of piquet and lost it in as little as thirty minutes. Christian had gone to considerable lengths to buy it back for just this purpose. He watched the Earl’s eyes go wide as he recognized the paper.

“What the devil is the meaning of this?” Northbridge asked, looking up at him in disbelief.

“I’ll make a bet on your daughter, My Lord. Considering your debts, I’m not sure Mortimer’s bid will have much effect.”

There were scandalized murmurs all around the room now. Christian did not even flinch.

“If I win, you get back the home you gambled away. The home where your daughterand your wife now live. Will that do? It would be more than fair, considering you haven’t anything left to wager.”

There was a steady rumbling of voices around them now. The Earl was crimson with fury. Christian heard someone mutter, “Bad form,” from a few tables away, but he did not care for their opinion. He only wanted to retain the Earl’s attention and secure his agreement. If he could do that, he might just get what he wanted most in the world—the whereabouts of his brother and the truth of what had happened to him.

“How have you come by this?” Northbridge asked, picking up the deed and examining it for authenticity.

“I do not have long, My Lord. Are we playing or not?”

Christian took a long sip of his brandy. Mortimer was glaring at him but seemed to have thought better of his offer already. Christian sensed the amusement of the other men around the table.

The Earl had few friends left.

“Unless youwantto be destitute,” Christian continued lightly. “Debtors’ prison has improved in recent years, or so I am told.”

The Earl spluttered with outrage, but he knew he had been outdone. With gritted teeth, he motioned to Mortimer to deal the cards for their game.

“You have my seat, Your Grace. The table does not favor me tonight.” The man opposite the Earl rose and left them to it.

Christian swiftly sat down, straightening his shirt cuffs as he leveled Mortimer with a hard stare, and the other two men rose and left them to their game.

“Écarté?As I say, I am pressed for time. First to five?”

“Very well,” the Earl agreed and waved a hand dismissively.

“May I?” Christian asked and received a nod as he dealt the cards.

The first round was uneventful. The Earl’s grip on his cards was tight, his eyes sharpening from their earlier stupor, but he seemed fairly certain of his gameplay.

Christian did not win every trick, but he learned his opponent’s tells fairly early on. Every time the Earl ran his teeth over his lower lip, he would play a trump, meaning he had run out of the suit in play.

As the game wore on, the Earl’s moves grew more erratic, and with each ill-advised discard, Christian’s hold on the game strengthened.

By the time they had played several rounds, the score stood at four to three in Christian’s favor. Northbridge, though brimming with bravado, looked noticeably paler than when they had started. Christian couldn’t help but wonder if the Earl might actually feel some regret for what he had done to his only child.

If that were true,he would not have bet her future on a hand of cards.

Christian kept his eyes fixed on his own hand as they continued to play. He knew the Earl was running out of options and waited until he saw his teeth skim over his lower lip, knowing Northbridge would discard as a next move.

Christian could feel the eyes in the room on them now. This type of high-stakes game was rarely played, and certainly not with such abandon.

The Earl glanced up at him as he discarded two of his cards, and Christian did the same. He watched the Earl’s mood sour further as he looked at the cards he had chosen. Christian eyed him warily. Was it genuine disappointment, or was the Earl trying to fool him?

Northbridge played his final exchange, placing the queen of spades in the center of the table with a smug smile as if the game were already won. It was a good bluff; Christian had to give him credit for that.

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