Page 82 of The Pleasures of Passion
Her aunt started to turn for the drawing room, then paused to look back at Brilliana. “Besides, I would take a rogue with a sense of humor and a genuine concern for his sister over a selfish, stodgy fellow any day. Good choice, niece.”
Then she marched off, leaving Brilliana to stare after her with her mouth hanging open. Her devil-may-care fiancé had somehow managed to charm even Aunt Agatha out of her disapproval.
Could the end of the world be far behind?
Sixteen
After the frustrating encounter with Edwin, Niall was in no mood for playing cards and trying to unmask counterfeiters. But that hardly mattered. He’d promised Fulkham. And too much was at stake if he stopped doing this now. So as he strode into the Star and Garter, he attempted to hide his agitation.
He hadn’t even reached the taproom before he ran into someone he knew.
“Good day to you, Mr. Payne,” he said as Sir Oswald’s brother strode into the hall.
The man looked startled to see him. “Are you playing again, then? Since they already have four, I figured you’d seen the light after one game with my hapless brother and his ridiculous friends.”
“I believe some of us are merely watching tonight, since we’re expecting six players. Would you want to join our merry band after all? We might be able to drum up a fourth for you and get two games going.”
He snorted. “Not on your life. I merely came to retrieve some funds from Oswald that I need for a business venture.”
Odd. “I thoughtyouwere generally the one loaning money tohim.Or so your niece told me.”
A bland smile crossed the man’s face. “Precisely why I had to retrieve funds. The fellow is always borrowing and has tapped me out. Fortunately, he’s been flush lately, so I figured I’d get my money while I could.”
“Very wise.”
“Well then,” Payne said, “enjoy your game. I understand that I have you to thank for Oswald’s good fortune, so try to make sure he wins again, will you? He still owes me money, and the longer he keeps winning, the more chance I have of getting it back.”
“I’ll do my best,” Niall said with a rueful smile.
He watched as Payne hurried from the inn, obviously in a temper. Not that Niall blamed the man. This was what Bree had endured all these years from her father, a man who would take from everyone in his circle until they bled. It was a wonder Payne had put up with it so long.
For Payne’s sake, Niall hoped he’d “retrieved” genuine notes from his brother and not counterfeit ones. Assuming that Sir Oswaldwasthe counterfeiter. Niall began to pray otherwise. It would make matters easier for Bree and Silas.
Silas? God, he was already thinking of the imp as his charge. And the odd thing was, the idea of that didn’t alarm him as much as it had two days ago.
The boy was lively, to be sure, but not as difficult as one would have thought. Silas would make an excellent older brother to the children Niall intended for him and Bree to have one day.
Which reminded him of Lady Pensworth’s outrageous remarks, and the rest of their journey home. He was still smiling over that when he walked into the taproom.
“Here he is!” Sir Oswald was already shuffling the cards. “I told you he’d be here in time, Raines.”
Raines gave a long-suffering sigh. “I never doubted it, sir.”
Sir Kenneth was there, too, and Pitford, whom Sir Oswald immediately introduced to Niall. Apparently Dunsleigh was the only one who hadn’t arrived.
“So,” Niall said as he sat down opposite Bree’s father, “which of you three is playing tonight?”
“Dunsleigh is ill, so he’s out,” Sir Kenneth said. “And I told Raines I’d sit out, too, since he’d like to play. After last night, I’m not sure I wish to take on you and Sir Oswald again, Margrave.”
“Fine by me.” Niall removed a card from the pack that Pitford had cut and laid it faceup on the table. “But your luck might change.”
“I’ve stayed solvent all these years by not clinging to that gambler’s hope,” Sir Kenneth said.
“Very wise of you.” Or very cautious. Niall wasn’t sure which.
They each chose cards until the first diamond showed up, which determined who dealt. It turned out to be Sir Oswald.
“Besides,” Sir Kenneth said, motioning to a taproom maid, “I prefer to drink, especially when a chit as fetching as that one is bringing the tipple.”
