Page 54 of The Duke and the Lady in Red
“I wanted a game of cards,” Avendale barked, nearly making her jump. “We can go elsewhere if you gents are going to keep tittering on like gossipy spinsters.”
“By all means, let’s play,” Rexton said.
With Avendale at her side, Rose found herself sitting opposite the duchess, with the other gentlemen on either side of her. She was astounded by the obscene amount of money being brought out and exchanged for chips.
“No cheating, Grace,” Avendale said.
“Certainly not when we have a guest,” the duchess said, as though terribly offended he’d think otherwise.
“Do you cheat?” Rose couldn’t help but ask her.
The duchess smiled. “Of course.”
“I only recently discovered my sister is quite skilled at it,” Rexton said, and only then did Rose see the similarities in their features.
Her observation skills were slipping. Normally she would have noticed right off. She could blame it on Avendale for distracting her. Only a part of her was paying attention to her surroundings. The majority of her was paying attention to him. How could she explain all of this to Harry if she didn’t give it her unbridled attention?
“I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out,” Darling said as he shuffled. Apparently his role was simply to dole out the cards, as he’d taken no chips.
“I never expected such duplicity from one so sweet,” Rexton muttered.
“My duplicity is what landed me Lovingdon,” she said, placing her hand over her husband’s. Smiling at her, he turned his palm up and threaded his fingers through hers.
Avendale leaned closer to Rose and whispered, “They’re disgustingly in love. I’m in need of scotch. What would you like?”
“I’ll have the same.” After he signaled a footman, she murmured, “I find them charming.”
He scowled, but there was no heat behind it. She was quite flattered that he wanted to spend an evening with his friends with her in tow. Flattered and unnerved, surrounded by nobility, and yet they seemed not so different from her.
“Do you play poker, Mrs. Sharpe?” Darling asked.
“Please call me Rose. All of you. And I don’t. Actually I’m not one for gambling. My coins are too hard-earned.”
Avendale made a strangling noise that very much sounded as though he were choking. He cleared his throat. “Which is why she’ll play with my chips this evening.”
“Aren’t you going to play?” she asked, as footmen began setting glasses of amber liquid before everyone.
“Not until I ensure you understand the game, the best hand for winning.”
The duchess lifted her glass. “A toast, to our newest member. May fortune smile on you tonight, Rose.”
“Cheers!” the gents echoed in chorus, lifting their glasses and downing the contents in one swallow.
She did the same, savoring the fire.
Chips were tossed into the center of the table. Darling began dealing cards. Rose waited until he stopped. Taking her cards, she fanned them out. Avendale leaned in, his arm resting on the back of her chair, his fingers skipping up and down her arm. She wasn’t certain he was aware of his actions, while she was very much cognizant of them. How did he expect her to concentrate when he was so near, his sandalwood and bergamot fragrance teasing her nostrils?
She watched his long fingers plucking cards out, putting them in a different order, and she thought of his fingers, plucking her, squeezing her breast, pinching her nipple. He had such capable hands. So masculine. The allure they held over her was ridiculous.
With his lips near her ear, his low voice a lover’s caress, he explained the various combinations, how they ranked, which held more value—things he had explained in the coach on the ride over. She remembered every word he’d spoken, thought she would be able to recall every word from his lips on her deathbed. She wished he didn’t have this effect on her, even as she relished the fact that he did.
He allowed her to select the cards to discard, didn’t appear at all disappointed when they lost the round to the duchess.
“We’ll win the next one,” he told her.
We.Her heart hammered within her chest with such force, such a loud clamoring that she was certain everyone in the room was aware of it. She took some pride in the fact that her hand didn’t tremble when she picked up the glass and downed a good portion of its contents.
She had never before been part of awe. While she was not alone in life—she had Harry, Merrick, Sally, Joseph—she took all the risks, determined all the plans, worked alone, faced her marks alone. She never involved the others. Harry hadn’t a clue how she managed to secure lodgings or food or clothing. He didn’t know she was a swindler. In that aspect of her life, there was only she.
