“They were my guests,” he replied, tossing the chain toward the center of the table.
“Your generosity is commendable,” Helena said, alternately placing cards face down in front of the Duke of Lennox and herself. “Miss Webb spoke of the assistance you provided in freeing her from prison.”
“Would that convince you to give me reprieve?” He peeked at his cards, then lifted his eyes, keeping his face devoid of emotion.
“Were I Miss Webb, my answer would be yes. However, aside from gaining a wonderful acquaintance, your sacrifice does not affect me.”
He stared at her, his captivating eyes focusing on her as though she were the only person in the room.
“Then I shall have to find a way to do so,” he rumbled, his words brushing over her skin.
“To affect me?”
He nodded once, keeping his gaze locked on her.
Despite the stern command to her body to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, she shivered.
A shout from the table beside them drew the Duke of Lennox’s attention. When he twisted around, he flashed his cards at Helena, giving her a glimpse of a pair of tens.
She had him beat. But did she want him to leave? And was she willing to risk Miss Drummond’s ire for a few more fleeting moments of his time?
He chuckled as the Duke of Beaufort pulled the last almond from a flaming bowl, then returned his gaze to Helena.
“It appears they have not reached an acceptable solution regarding the wedding date.”
“Nor shall we,” the Duke of Roxburghe said, shooting over a dark scowl. “Unless Grisham agrees to a duel. What say you?”
“A duel?” Miss Webb and Miss Philbert gasped simultaneously.
“They cannot!” The blood draining from her face, Helena set down her cards, but the Duke of Lennox rose before she intervened.
“Miss Rowe will not share her home with either of your spirits,” he declared, striding toward the other table. “It’s bad enough that I’m facing the issue. This stops now. The situation has become completely inane.”
“Agreed,” Miss Webb said, who glanced at Miss Philbert and widened her eyes, sharing a silent conversation.
Miss Philbert inclined her head, accepting the unspoken proposal.
“Since neither of you will relinquish your position,” Miss Webb said, taking hold of the Duke of Roxburghe’s hand, “Miss Philbert and I have reached a solution. We’ll marry on the same day, at the same time, in the same place so that anyone who supports either marriage may attend both.”
The Duke of Grisham wrapped his arms around Miss Philbert and pulled her close, his light brown eyes searching hers. “Do you find this arrangement acceptable?”
“Of course.” She smiled, curling into his embrace. “It will be a joyous occasion that we will share with our friends.”
“Indeed.” He grinned, leaned down, and murmured something in her ear, causing Miss Philbert’s face to flush several shades of pink.
“With the wedding issue settled,” the Duke of Grisham said, not releasing his hold on Miss Philbert, “we must make our immediate departure.”
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss Rowe,” Miss Philbert said, peeking out from beneath the Duke of Grisham’s arm as he escorted her across the parlor. “We must play again… once I’ve recovered from my losses.”
“How much did you lose?” the Duke of Grisham asked as they entered the foyer.
She giggled as the outer door closed, cutting off Miss Philbert’s muffled reply.
“Lennox.” The Duke of Beaufort took a seat at the table beside Helena. “Where am I laying my head this evening?”
“Our game isn’t concluded,” the Duke of Lennox replied, his mouth folding into a grim line as he retook his chair. “Miss Rowe, it’s your turn. Would you like any additional cards?”
Lifting the cards, she glanced at her hand. Vingt-et-un.
