Page 56 of One Night with a Prince
At Stokely’s, however, she’d have to let him touch her, if only to keep up appearances. And if Stokely behaved true to form, he would assign Gavin and Christabel to adjoining rooms, while Rosa would be sleeping in the servants’ quarters with the other ladies’ maids. Gavin couldn’t wait to see how Christabel reacted to having him just one connecting door away. After spending her days playing his mistress, she would be primed for spending her nightsbeing his mistress. Christabel was too sensual—and too curious—a female to avoid his bed for long.
“What time is it?” Christabel asked, from across the carriage. He drew out his watch. “Six. Damn this rain. I was hoping we’d arrive before dinner.”
“When is dinner?” Rosa asked.
“Seven, usually.”
“Will my lady have to dress for it?”
“Absolutely.”
Rosa muttered a Spanish oath under her breath.
“My feelings exactly,” Gavin replied. “If we miss it, it’ll be catch-as-catch-can later. Stokely doesn’t like the distraction of having a lot of servants hovering about to serve people at the card tables.”
Christabel worried her lower lip. “Do you think I’m ready?”
He didn’t have to ask what she meant. “Ready enough. You can hold your own with most of Stokely’s set.”
It was true. She’d come far after a week of unrelenting whist, played with two of his trusted servants who were excellent at the game. It hadn’t taken her long to exceed their skill; she was a quick study. A clever woman, oh, yes. And he found her cleverness intoxicating. Unlike his other mistresses, who’d used their cleverness in figuring out how to squeeze more gifts, more money, more everything from him, she’d used hers to improve her card-playing. He admired that. It was somethinghe would do.
“How does this party work?” she asked. “We just play whist all the time?”
“We play every night until around threeA.M ., which is why we sleep until noon. After rising, we have a leisurely breakfast, then amuse ourselves with hunting, reading, whatever, until dinner at seven. Then the card-playing begins and continues until sometime after midnight, when we break for a late supper. Then it’s back to the tables. That goes on for a few days. The eliminations don’t start until halfway through the week.”
“Eliminations?”
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“In the first half of the week, the strong players prey on the weak, each individual team winning enough to keep going when others are pockets to let. Once the weak are thinned out, the games begin in earnest, a sort of tournament, if you will.”
Her eyes had gone wide. Clearly, she hadn’t realized this was the point to Stokely’s little party.
“At that time,” he went on, “there are usually around eight teams left. That’s when the playing for money stops, although each player must pay into a pot for every hand they play. Once four teams reach a hundred points, the bottom teams are eliminated. Those four teams are paired off to play, and the two winning teams play for the pot. It usually numbers in the thousands of pounds by then.”
She paled. “I hesitate to ask, but what amount do they pay into the pot?”
“The same as the stakes in the first part of the week—five pounds a game, twenty-five pounds a rubber.”
Rosa gasped from beside her. “My lady, you cannot—”
“I’m covering your mistress’s losses, Rosa.”
“Perhaps I should bow out early,” Christabel said, “so I don’t cost you too much. I could claim to have reached my limit financially. Then I’d have time for…other things.”
Like searching for those bloody letters. Her reluctance to speak of it in front of Rosa meant that even her maid didn’t know about them. How interesting.
“If you bow out early,” he retorted, “then as your partner I’ll have to do the same, and that will rouse Stokely’s suspicions. The winners split the pot, and for three years running, ever since he began this annual event, Stokely and I have been the ones to win it. Why do you think he keeps having it at his estate?”
“You mean, that ungodly amount of money is what Lady Jenner meant about your winning the pot?” she asked, a hint of panic in her voice. “Good Lord, what if I can’t play well enough to get you that far? What if—”
“Don’t worry—when I chose you as my partner, I knew I might lose the pot this year. But after the improvement in your playing the past few days, I’m not so sure.” He grinned. “The two of us may even change the tradition. If we do, you’ll have more than enough to cover any of Haversham’s lingering debts. Not to mention, repay me for my…efforts.”
She relaxed against the squabs, with a small smile. “In that case, I suppose it will be all right. As long as I have time for my other activities.”
“You’ll have plenty of time.” And so would he.
All he knew from his trip to Ilsley was that Christabel sought a pack of letters dated twenty-two years ago. Since then, he’d learned from other sources in London that on that date General Lyon had taken Christabel off to Gibraltar. They’d traveled with another officer posted to Gibraltar, the officer’s wife and infant son, and a few servants.
