“Devoid of Mr. Philbert,” the Duke of Roxburghe added, glancing over at them.
Clasping her hands together, Helena fixed the Duke of Lennox with a hard stare. “Mr. Philbert is dead. I was in attendance the night he was murdered.”
“He is dead,” the Duke of Lennox confirmed, rolling his head toward the Duke of Roxburghe and scowling. “Or at least the physical portion of him is deceased.”
“And the rest of him?” Helena asked, uncertain she wanted to hear the answer.
The Duke of Lennox grimaced. “May or may not be residing in my conservatory.”
“And parlor,” the Duke of Beaufort added, lifting one finger.
“That seems…” Her voice trailed off as she searched for a word that wouldn’t offend the Duke of Lennox. “Complicated.”
“Thus, my request for temporary lodging,” he replied, settling back in his chair.
“And if I win?” Tilting her head, she offered him a tiny smile. “I’ve been quite fortunate this evening.”
Holding her gaze, he reached beneath the table, unhooked his watch fob again, and tossed the gold chain toward her. “Will you accept this as compensation?”
She folded her hands into her chest, staring at the chain. The piece, when sold, would provide the emergency funds necessary to flee Wiltshire ahead of Humphrey should Miss Drummond not keep her word.
“Just one night?” Helena asked, ignoring the nagging, warning voice in her mind that sounded distinctly like her brother.
The Duke of Lennox slapped his hand over his breast. “You have my word.”
“You have a wager.” She extended her arm.
The Duke of Lennox took her fingers, squeezing them before lifting them to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss on them. Her stomach flipped over.
“Your Grace?” Miss Drummond appeared beside Helena, clasping her reticule in front of her waist. “My cousin and I must take our leave. However, I’d like to speak with Miss Rowe before our departure. May I have a few moments of her time?”
“Certainly.” He flicked his eyes to Helena as he collected the fob. “I’ll keep this safe until our game.”
He rose, leaning on the table for support, offered them both a wobbly bow, and wandered in the direction of the Duke of Beaufort, who’d somehow convinced Mrs. Hawkins to retrieve several bottles of wine from the cellar.
Glancing over her shoulder, Miss Drummond took the empty seat, set her reticule on the table, and pulled open the drawstring. “Put in the watch fobs.”
“Wouldn’t you prefer everything at once?” Helena said, keeping her voice low.
“The gold isn’t part of my demand.” Miss Drummond pushed the pouch closer to Helena.
Helena’s eyes dropped to the embroidered sac. “Then, why do you want them?”
“I wasn’t quite as fortunate as you,”—Miss Drummond tilted her head—“and I won’t allow my funds to pay your debt.”
“If you take the chains, I won’t have enough to pay you tonight,” said Helena, her fingers clenching into fists.
She’d never struck anyone in her life. However, at this moment, she couldn’t remember why.
“You have another opportunity to win the money...” Smiling, Miss Drummond gestured at the card stack in the center of the table. “If you best the Duke of Lennox.”
“Good luck,” Miss Venning said as she strolled around Helena toward Miss Drummond.
Helena’s heart stuttered. Had Miss Venning heard their discussion?
“My father,” Miss Venning continued, her blithe expression suggesting she hadn’t overheard the conversation, “says the Duke of Lennox is one man he’d never challenge to a game of cards.”
Miss Drummond laughed and quickly covered her mouth, twisted away from Miss Venning, who frowned.
