Page 106 of One Night with a Prince
“Not for one minute.”
A maid was called in to search Christabel, discovering her fan in her apron pocket.
“You can keep that, I suppose.” Lord Stokely gave a cruel laugh. “You might need it when the game grows heated.”
Lady Kingsley looked as if she might say something about the fan, but Christabel shot her a threatening glance that the woman thankfully took to heart.
“Now it’s my turn to searchyou, Stokely,” Gavin said.
Lord Stokely looked offended. “I’m a gentleman. I don’t carry knives hidden in my boot.”
“All the same, I’m sure you won’t mind if I look for myself.”
Lord Stokely hesitated, then gave in with a nod.
When Gavin had satisfied himself that Lord Stokely indeed was weaponless, he added, “Same terms forGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlthe game as always? We play the best two rubbers out of three?”
“Of course.” Lord Stokely waved toward the chairs. “Ladies.”
As Christabel found her seat, her pulse began to race. So much was at stake—the letters, her father’s honor, even her future with Gavin. If Lord Stokely won and kept the letters, there was no telling how or upon whom His Highness would wreak his fury. He might not stop with her and Papa. By agreeing to marry Gavin no matter what, she’d put him firmly inher camp, and the prince had already done so much to hurt him that she couldn’t bear to see him do more.
They had to win. It was as simple as that.
Her hands shook as she pulled out the chair. Then suddenly Gavin’s hand was covering hers, helping her with the chair. And in the process, giving her a brief caress. As she sat down, she gazed up at him. His mouth crooked up in a smile. “Good luck, my love,” he murmured. Then he left her to take his own seat.
It was enough to steady her hands and her nerve.
She forced herself to concentrate, to remember every card played. Earlier in the week, she’d partnered Lady Kingsley a few times and even Lord Stokely once. She dredged up every memory of how they’d played, every strategy they’d exhibited. And she put it to good use. They lost the first rubber. But Lord Stokely and Lady Kingsley lost the second. It was down to one. They were in the final game, nearly even in points, when Lord Stokely said, “I suppose you told Byrne about our encounter this morning, Lady Haversham.”
“Of course.” If he was trying to rattle her, she wouldn’t let him.
“And the caresses we shared. Did you tell him of that?”
Now he was trying to rattle Gavin. “Sharedimplies that both of us participated, Lord Stokely. But as I recall the only caress I gave you was of the painful variety.”
Gavin laughed. “Grabbed you by the ballocks, did she? You’d better be wary of Christabel, Stokely. She can bring a man to his knees, and not in a good way.”
In the end, the only person rattled by the interchange was Lord Stokely, which gave her immense satisfaction. After that, he kept his opinions to himself. Which was a good thing, because the cards took all her concentration.
Still, they kept fairly well apace with Lord Stokely and Lady Kingsley, although the couple had the lead. Then disaster struck. She stared at the abysmal hand she’d been dealt, praying that Gavin had a better one.
She glanced over the table at him, but his face showed nothing as he examined his own cards. Just once, she wished he would break his stoic manner and give her some sign of how good his cards were. But if he did, there was always the chance that the other side could see, too, and that would be dangerous.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlThey were four points behind Lord Stokely and Lady Kingsley, four tiny points. Yet it might as well be a hundred with a hand like this. She could feel the panic rise in her throat, feel the terror building. Then Gavin’s voice came to her from that long-ago night when he’d first started teaching her to play. Whether ten pounds or ten thousand ride on your hand, you must leave emotion out of it. Play to the cards you have. Always.
So she did. She forced herself to block out her fear and concentrate on the cards. Lady Kingsley was saving her diamonds, no doubt, since diamonds were trump, so Christabel must save bigger ones. She let a jack of clubs pass that she could have taken with a two of diamonds, barely suppressing a sigh of relief as Gavin took it with the king of clubs. And that’s how it went, each of them playing to the other’s strengths like an old married couple. They won that trick and the next, until with a final flourish, Lady Kingsley brandished the queen of diamonds. And Christabel topped it with her only good card—the one she’d saved so carefully—the king of diamonds.
Gavin smiled widely. “We won, my love. We won.”
“It can’t be,” Lady Kingsley whispered, her gaze fixed on the king of diamonds. “I was sure Lord Stokely had it. From the way you were playing, I didn’t believe…I couldn’t imagine—”
“It’s all right, my dear,” Lord Stokely said, seeming oddly unperturbed. “We changed the terms of the game, so you and I still get to keep the pot. They merely get to have these.”
When he tossed them across the table at Christabel with nonchalant unconcern, she grew suspicious. She picked them up and thumbed through them, her delight turning rapidly into fury.
“What is it?” Gavin asked.
“Three are missing.” She shot Lord Stokely an accusing glance. “And knowing you, they’re probably three of the most damaging.”
The baron shrugged. “Your husband must have kept them out for that reason. These are the only onesI have.”
