Page 26 of Falling Into Bed with a Duke
Chapter 7
MINERVA couldn’t say why she had decided to come to the Dragons tonight. Perhaps because she’d been contemplating returning to the Nightingale, but she feared if she encountered Ashebury there, his suspicions would be confirmed. Damn his keen observations. Having seen his photographs, she understood that he was the worst possible choice to take as a lover for a solitary night. He studied, scrutinized, and focused too intently on objects, too closely on her. Although after viewing the photographs, she did rather regret that she had walked away from him the evening before. He had attempted to explain what he was about, but until she saw the evidence of his skill, she’d failed to truly comprehend the level of his talents. She imagined lying across the bed with shadows and light playing over her body while he, looking through a lens, lay in wait for the perfect image to capture. Studying her with such intensity—
Just the thought of his blue gaze leveled on her caused her to grow warm.
Although had she gone to the Nightingale, she’d have not crossed paths with him, wouldn’t have had the opportunity to be photographed, because he was here, at the Dragons. While she preferred private card games with higher stakes, after spying him, she had selected a table that wasn’t quite full in hopes the duke might join her.
He, however, seemed to prefer roulette.
Minerva found the game boring as it required no skill, did not pit her against any opponent. She enjoyed games that involved more than chance. Perhaps that as much as anything had prompted her decision to go to the Nightingale. Being there had elicited a measure of excitement, a good deal of the unknown, and a bit of skill to ensure she wasn’t found out.
But now that he was here, she was a fool to remain in the common gaming area, to risk his realizing that she was Lady V. He could blackmail her, threaten to destroy her reputation if she didn’t pose for him, if she didn’t do everything he demanded. As though she would ever give a man that much control over her. She would simply scoff—
“Pardon?” Lord Langdon asked.
Dear God, had she scoffed aloud? She smiled at the gentlemen circling the table. “The cards are not kind tonight. I believe I shall give roulette a go.”
“You abhor roulette,” Langdon said, demonstrating the disadvantage of doing things with childhood friends. They knew too much.
“I’m in the mood for something different.” Something different, something far more challenging—an entirely different game that wasn’t identified with cards, dice, or spinning wheels. One that relied on her cleverness. He might have had his suspicions that she was Lady V, but she’d managed to throw him off the scent. Where was the harm in putting herself back in his path, especially when he intrigued her so? “If you gentlemen will excuse me ...”
Leaving her cards—two queens and two tens which she was ninety-eight percent certain would beat every other hand at the table even after the gents exchanged their unfavorable cards—she summoned a young lad in livery over to collect what remained of her chips. He would turn them in for her and bring her a voucher while she wandered over to the roulette wheel where Ashebury stood, seemingly remarkably bored, even though Lady Hyacinth was fairly draped over him.
She hadn’t noticed the lady before, but now Minerva reconsidered her destination, was about to walk on by, when Ashebury’s gaze landed on her, and he suddenly didn’t seem at all bored. His blue eyes warmed with interest. Or was that merely wishful thinking on her part?
She sidled up to the table until she stood opposite Ashebury. After acknowledging him with a slight nod, she exchanged some money from her reticule for chips. Without hesitation, she placed half of them on black twenty-five. Waited while other bets were laid down. Waited as the croupier signaled an end to the wagering and, with a practiced flick of his wrist, sent the wheel spinning, the ball dropping, jumping, rattling around, settling...
All the while Ashebury’s gaze remained on her, and she could only hope that he wasn’t imagining her wearing a white domino mask with distracting feathers and sequins. Perhaps she’d been foolish after all to give him another opportunity to observe her. She wasn’t so vain as to think she—Minerva Dodger—was enough to hold his interest for overly long although she certainly fantasized about doingso.
“Twenty-five black,” the croupier announced.
The other people at the table grumbled. Ashebury narrowed his eyes. “I’ve been standing here for two hours, and not once have I picked correctly.”
“I have extraordinary luck at the games,” she said as humbly as possible.
“But not with men,” Lady Hyacinth stated rather snidely.
The men standing around the table stiffened. One of the things Drake Darling had not considered when he had opened the doors of this establishment to women was that sometimes the catty ones bared their claws most unbecomingly.
“No,” Minerva acknowledged, “not when it comes to men. So I suppose it’s a rather good thing that I don’t run about draping myself over them as though I’m an article of clothing.”
Lady Hyacinth blinked repeatedly, opened her mouth, closed it as though having difficulty deciphering the words but suspecting that they were laced with insult. “I believe your words were an affront to my character.”
“Merely an observation. Still, would you like to take this down to the boxing room?”
“Oh, I’d pay to see that,” Edward Alcott said, grinning broadly.
“All my money goes on Miss Dodger,” Ashebury announced.
With a sharp intake of breath, Lady Hyacinth shoved herself away from him, then glared at Minerva. “Ladies do not settle affairs in a boxing ring. You should have been born to wear trousers.”
Was that the lady’s attempt at offending? Minerva should cease taunting her. Instead, she said, “Who says I can’t wear them now? I have two legs. Trousers do as well. Seems to me as though it would work. Perhaps I’ll give it a go. Let you know.”
“Is it any wonder you’re a spinster, that no man would ever have you?”
While Minerva considered if there was anything to be gained by pointing out that gentlemen had in fact offered marriage, a large man approached and wrapped a beefy hand around Lady Hyacinth’s arm. “My lady, your carriage is waiting.”
“I didn’t send for my carriage.”
