Page 55 of The Duke and the Lady in Red
If caught, she was the one who would be imprisoned, she was the one who would pay. She wouldn’t risk the others. She carried the burden of her sins.
The next hand was dealt. She lifted the cards and stared at three tens. She did little more than furrow her brow in confusion, while Avendale moved them around in her hand as though he could find no way to situate them that made them pleasing. Slowly she let her gaze roam over the other players.
They were incredibly stone-faced. Not a smile among them, not any indication at all regarding whether they were pleased or disappointed in their hand. This, she thought, was why he enjoyed playing with them. It wasn’t about the money or winning a hand. It was about outfoxing them. Had he brought her because she’d outfoxed him?
Only she hadn’t, not at the end, not when it had counted. She’d never been discovered before. Afterward people came to understand what she’d been about, but never during the ruse. Why had she slipped with him? She didn’t want to contemplate that perhaps she’d done so on purpose, that she had wanted him to catch her. That made no sense. At the time, she hadn’t known enough about him to know that he wouldn’t turn her over to the authorities.
Her three tens took that hand. She scooped up the coins. She might make a tidy profit tonight. She wondered why she wasn’t filled with the same sense of accomplishment she usually experienced when she took from those who could afford to be taken from. None of the people at this table was going to suffer because she took a few of their coins.
Yet she found herself feeling not particularly triumphant with the thought of taking their money. It was an honest game of chance. They were all on equal footing here, their fortune determined by the whim of a card, but she didn’t want to beat them.
She had always viewed the aristocracy as distant, sitting atop pedestals that reached into the clouds. In between hands, she watched as they lowered their gaming faces and took a moment to laugh, joke, tease. In spite of being Avendale’s friends, they seldom included him in the banter. She realized it wasn’t that they didn’t want to, but he somehow held himself apart, as though he weren’t quite comfortable within their circle.
Still, she found herself fascinated by them. They were kind, funny—and generous, she discovered when she had won three hands in a row.
“Appears the orphanages aren’t going to benefit tonight, Grace,” Rexton announced.
“Grace always donates her winnings to the orphanages our parents established,” Darling explained.
Rose fought not to appear surprised. He was part of their family?
“Not any longer,” the duchess said.
Around the table, several brows arched in surprise. Although Lovingdon did little more than place his hand over his wife’s where it rested on the table. She smiled softly at him, before addressing the others. “I’m going to build a sanctuary upon the land that was my dowry.”
“For what purpose?” Langdon asked.
“To provide a haven for women who have had devastating surgeries. A place for them to recover and to not feel quite so alone.”
“Bravo,” Langdon said, lifting his glass. “From tonight forward, my winnings will go to your endeavors.”
She graced him with a beatific smile, and Rose wondered if all their winnings were donated elsewhere. Would she be expected to donate hers? Was that why Avendale had been so keen to let her have them? She couldn’t take them with her? She would not feel guilty because she had never given any of her ill-gotten gains to anyone other than those within her close circle. She didn’t possess as much as these people did. They could give without suffering. Yet it didn’t diminish her respect for them as they seemed to give as a matter of course. They weren’t selfish as she’d originally thought or consumed with naught but pleasure.
The knowledge made her more curious about Avendale. How did he fit in? How much was he like them? In many ways, he seemed to be very different.
He ceased arranging her cards, although he stayed near. When she lost a hand, he would explain how the odds would have favored her had she played differently, kept what she tossed, tossed what she kept. Sometimes, even when she won, he pointed out how she might have increased her odds.
“Very easy to decipher once you’ve seen everything that has been played,” she said tartly.
With a grin, he trailed his finger along the nape of her neck, across her shoulders. “You’ll thank me one day for the lessons I’m teaching you tonight.”
She wondered if he was referring to more than the cards. “I doubt it. I shall never play with my own coin.”
His grin grew. “We’ll see how you feel when the night is done, especially if you win a particularly large pot. Once you’ve experienced that thrill of victory, you’ll always be searching for it.”
“Then I shall hope that I don’t experience it, as I daresay, I’d have a most difficult time affording it.”
“I’ve often said,” Darling began, “that the worst thing that can happen is for a person to win the first time they gamble.”
“I notice you don’t wager,” Rose said.
He merely shrugged.
“We don’t allow him to play,” Avendale said. “He’s the most skilled cheater of the lot.”
Rose laughed. “You’ve mentioned the cheating before. Are you serious? You all cheat when you play?”
“Sometimes,” the duchess said, giving her husband a sideways glance and smile. “But if you’re caught doing it, you must forfeit all your winnings.”
