Page 15 of Five Nights with a Rakish Duke
The dealer silently passed them two new cards. Asher took his own and added it to his pile, hiding his smile when he realized it made his hand even better than before. Surely, he would win this now, unless Lord Larson pulled out a truly miraculous hand!
“It is time to show,” Dorian said, rapping the table with his knuckles as he looked between Asher and Lord Larson. “Larson, it is your turn first.”
Lord Larson fidgeted in his chair for a second, clearly growing uncomfortable with his nerves. Asher used the time to swallow what was left in his port glass, downing it so that there was nothing but dregs left in the crystal bottom.
“Full house,” Lord Larson said and placed down the cards. Asher’s stomach knotted as he leaned forward to check the hand. There were three Kings and two Aces.
“A fine hand indeed!” the drunkard said and clapped Lord Larson on the back. The slap was so loud that Lord Larson jumped in surprise, pulling a low laugh from Dorian. Asher was checking his cards another time, unable to laugh as he had to make sure he had not misread his cards.
“Your Grace?” Lord Larson said, turning his attention on Asher. “What do you have?”
Asher smiled a little and laid out his cards, one at a time. First, there was a Queen, then a second Queen, a third and a fourth. “Four of a kind,” the dealer said with finality. “The Duke of Kendall wins.”
“Well done, Asher!” Dorian said, leaning over and taking Asher’s shoulders, shaking him in delight. Asher laughed as he pulled the chip pile forward and lifted his eyes toward his betting opponent.
Lord Larson now had his forehead on the oak table, tapping it there repeatedly in frustration. “I am sorry, Larson,” Asher said with feeling. “It was a good hand, but luck was not with you tonight.”
“She will be so angry.”
“I’m sorry?” Asher said, pausing with collecting the chips, wondering if he’d heard the Earl wrong.
“It does not matter,” Lord Larson said and pushed back the chair. “Good God, that was a good hand.”
“It was made better by the last deal. I had three of a kind up until then,” Asher explained, but the words didn’t help the Earl who was now shaking his head in a kind of despair. “Do not fear. One night can be bad here, but another can be better. You might win your estates back some time.”
“Then play me again,” Lord Larson said, leaning forward with animation and striking the table with the flat of his hand.
“I am afraid not,” Asher said softly. He had been at the gaming hall enough times to see when a man was in danger of possessing the betting sickness, and at this moment, Lord Larson had that fierce look in his eyes and the sweat beading around his forehead that suggested he would soon be a victim of that sickness. “You have lost enough tonight. I think it best you do not risk anymore.”
Asher stood to his feet, and Dorian followed, chuckling away under his breath. “As for the estates, how do you wish to proceed?” Asher asked.
Lord Larson sat back in his chair, sighing with exasperation and running his hands across his reddened cheeks.
“Come to my house tomorrow, and I will give you the deeds then. Gracechurch Street, Sycamore Manor. You cannot miss it.”
* * *
“He was right, I could not miss it,” Asher said to himself as he descended the carriage and looked around the buildings on Gracechurch Street. Sycamore Manor was by far the most superior house here, with a grand driveway and grounds attached to the townhouse, surrounded in the sycamore trees that gave the place its name, with the hint of a river visible between the trunks.
Leaving word with his coach driver to tarry for a while, Asher stepped between Palladian-style white pillars and knocked on the front door. It was promptly answered by a rather dour-looking butler who lifted his nose higher into the air when he saw Asher.
“I believe you are expecting me,” Asher said with a smile. “I am here to see Lord Larson. I am the Duke of Kendall.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” the butler said with a deep bow though he held onto the rather derisive stare as he stood straight again. “If you would follow me, My Lord wishes to see you in his study.”
Asher had to bite the side of his mouth to stop himself from laughing at the butler’s behavior. It seemed the butler knew why Asher was there and disapproved, but it was hardly his fault if Lord Larson chose to wager two of his estates, was it? That was the Earl’s doing. Asher hoped the young man, who was only a couple of years his junior, would use the opportunity as a life lesson and never gamble so much again.
As Asher stepped into the entrance hall, he gasped at the beauty of the place, lined with more pillars, a marble floor, and grand portraits of what may have been past Earls; it was a truly spectacular sight.
“Well, if the rest of the estates are as grand as this, I made a good decision last night,” Asher whispered to himself.
“If you would wait here for a minute, please,” the butler said, bowing to Asher one last time before hurrying off down the corridor, presumably in the direction of the study.
Once all was quiet, Asher looked around a little more, admiring the portraits when a new sound greeted him. It was footsteps with small heels softly padding across the marble floor. He turned his head, ready for the approach of Lord Larson, but it was not a man that entered the hallway from a nearby room, but a lady.
A lady with caramel brown hair whose green eyes lifted sharply toward him in surprise. She froze in the doorway so stunned that one hand reached out and grabbed onto the doorframe as though she may truly fall over from her surprise.
Asher could barely believe his eyes, for it was the very lady that he had gone to the gaming hall last night in order to forget. His heartbeat picked up as he had a flash in his mind; it was from his imagination of seeing that lady bare in his bed with her skirts up around her hips and him nestled against her.
