Page 19 of The Danger of Desire
“Very well,” he said, but his smirk told her he wasn’t done with her.
Was he building up to exposing her? Or was she just so nervous around him that she was reading too much into his remarks?
Whatever the case, she’d best find a way out of here before he either revealed who she was or plagued her until she slipped up and revealed who she was herself. Leaving before the game was over would rob her of the chance to beat him at cards, which she sorely regretted, but it wasn’t worth risking exposure.
When they started the thirdpartie, she could feel Lord Knightford’s gaze on her, as if he were attempting to see beyond the layers of her disguise. Lord. She had to escape—and without his being able to follow, in case hehadfigured out who she was.
When Mary came through again, carrying a tankard to another table and glaring at “Jack” as she passed by, an idea leapt into Delia’s head.
Delia leaned forward to lay down her card, calling, “Could you bringmeone of those ales, lass?”
Pretending to be distracted by her ordering, she brought her hand back just enough to knock over the port bottle so it fell and spewed port into Lord Knightford’s lap.
“Bloody hell!” he cried as he jumped up to blot the wine staining his perfect white shirt. Mary hurried over to help, as did others.
And while all was chaos, Delia slipped out the front.
Owen followed her quickly. “Are you mad, miss?” he muttered under his breath as she hurried away from Dickson’s. “I daresay you would have won the game and a tidy pot as well.”
“Winning has never been my only aim, as you well know. And tonight I had other concerns.”
She called to a hackney. If they escaped fast enough, Lord Knightford wouldn’t be able to follow them, and once they were out of sight, he wouldn’t be able to track them to her aunt’s house. He might have his suspicions about her true identity, but without proof, he wouldn’t dare expose her.
Though she’d have to avoid Dickson’s for a while. It was too risky to be caught by his lordship.
As soon as she and Owen were ensconced in the hackney and it was racing away from the gaming hell with no one following them, she relaxed.
She was safe now. Or mostly, anyway.
“Lord Knightford may have recognized me,” she told Owen.
“Are you sure?”
“We danced together earlier today. Then tonight he kept mentioning things we talked about and watching to gauge my reaction. I had to leave. I couldn’t risk his challenging me about my identity. And with my fleeing, he’ll never be able to confirm it. It prevents him from unmasking me before witnesses, and he’s not reckless enough to accuse a woman of good family without proof.”
“I see. Then I suppose your wine ploy was clever. We’ll have to take more care in the future.”
“Yes.”
Owen sighed. “I’m sorry I can’t gamble in your stead. But you’d be broke in a week if I did. I don’t know a thing about cards.”
“I realize that. And I wouldn’t want to force you to act against your beliefs, even if youcouldplay piquet. You have enough trouble participating in this subterfuge as it is.”
Owen was a strict Wesleyan and didn’t drink or play cards. He wasn’t keen on lying, either, but so far they’d managed it so she was the only one doing that.
“I hate that I haven’t been able to learn anything about the tattooed man since we’ve been in London,” he persisted. “But there hasn’t been a single person in the hells who’s ever heard of him. Or if they had, they weren’t saying.”
That was the trouble. A man of rank was rarely gossiped about to outsiders by those who ran the hells. They knew that they owed their bread and butter to such men, and they weren’t about to risk that.
“You did your best. That’s all I can ask.”
“Have you considered that your brother might have lied about the man who beat him?That Mr.Trevor might have overstated the case because he couldn’t bear losing?”
She stiffened. “Certainly not. While I wouldn’t be surprised anymore to hear that Reynold lied, he was as good a player as Papa, if not better. He wouldn’t have lost unless someone cheated him.”
“I suppose you know your brother better than anyone.” Owen looked skeptical, which annoyed her.
“I bloody well do.”
