Page 20 of Enticing Odds
Matthew dared not think about what might happen were he to refuse.
She nodded to the dealer, who cut the deck.
Matthew’s only thought was to not have to speak of himself and sound a fool. He set his jaw, his mind skipping along as the play unfolded. In the end he was left with twenty, and Lady Caplin eighteen, to the dealer’s nineteen.
Matthew breathed deeply.
“Well done,” Lady Caplin said with a raised brow. “What would you wish to know?”
“I…” Matthew began, then shut his mouth. He’d been so concerned with avoiding a loss that he hadn’t supposed what he might ask were he to actually win the hand.
His eyes darted about the room, frantic.
“How are you enjoying our mild spring? Do you reckon it’ll be as wet as last summer?” he finally said, reaching up to adjust his spectacles.
Lady Caplin stared at him for a long moment.
“You cannot possibly be inquiring about the weather.”
Matthew tried to smile. It felt more like an apologetic grimace.
She sighed. “Fine then, you forfeit your winnings this turn. I claim victory in your stead.” Her dark eyes lit with mischief. “Allow me to demonstrate.”
She pretended to clear her throat, then dipped her head prettily. The jeweled pins adorning her thick hair sparkled as they caught the light.
“Dr. Collier, are you, or have you in the past four years, been…” She paused, lifting her brows as if to saySee? Nothing to it.And then she delivered the final word: “Married?”
“That’s two questions,” Matthew protested.
She shrugged elegantly; there was no use challenging her. Idly he recalled Harriet’s tidy stitches upon the handkerchief he’d tied around that young lad’s hand.
“Never,” he said firmly.
It felt good to admit it out loud.
Lady Caplin considered this, then gestured to the dealer again.
This time Matthew had sixteen and Lady Caplin twenty-one exactly, to the dealer’s twenty. She grinned at the cards before slowly raising her eyes to meet his.
“Whatever happened to the young lady you harbored atendrefor? I recall you speaking of her the first time we met.” She traced a line along the table with one gloved finger. He had not, in fact, spoken of any young lady, but somehow Lady Caplin’s instincts were on point. “When you attended my ball some years ago. Without a proper invitation.”
“Married herself, as of late.” Matthew felt hollow as he spoke.
“Is that so?” Lady Caplin leaned forward. Matthew couldn’t help but notice the low décolletage of her gown. “You seemed so certain. How to account for it?”
“Two questions, my lady,” Matthew tried to protest, but her intense gaze did not waver. He sighed. “I was not certain, as it happens.”
With a smugness about her, she sat back in her seat.
This time he paid less thought to the hand, scraping about for a worthwhile question rather than keeping track of high cards in the deck. Still, he beat the dealer, eighteen to seventeen, while Lady Caplin went over.
“How did you and the late viscount meet?” Matthew asked, his tone light. It seemed the best course, something a bit cheeky along her line of questioning, but still appropriate for polite conversation.
Her grin faded. She looked away, almost as if she considered not answering altogether.
Matthew’s stomach dropped. “I apologize, I only thought—”
“My brother made the introduction,” she cut him off shortly.
