Regency Desire: Mistress to the Marquis / Dicing with the Dangerous Lord. Margaret McPhee

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СКАЧАТЬ to play, Razeby…’ The same words with which she had teased him on a hundred nights before.

      ‘I do want to play, Miss Sweetly.’ His eyes darkened ever so slightly as he gave the same reply he always had done.

      Like two players in a script full of secret meanings to which only Razeby and Alice held the key.

      She felt the tension tighten between them.

      His eyes flicked to the dealer. ‘Deal me in.’

      Two cards came his way.

      His eyes held Alice’s. ‘I hope you know what you are doing, Miss Sweetly.’

      ‘Oh, I know all right, Lord Razeby,’ she said softly. ‘You needn’t worry about that.’

      ‘In that case… let us play.’ He smiled.

      And she returned the smile. A real smile. It was impossible not to. Despite everything.

      After fifteen rounds, only four of them remained in the game—Monteith, Devlin, Razeby and herself. Monteith and Devlin were almost out of counters. The pile of counters in front of Alice was only marginally larger than that in front of Razeby. Men had wandered over from the other tables to watch the play so that a small crowd now surrounded them.

      The sixteenth hand was dealt.

      For all her laughter and sparkle and feigned joviality, all evening Alice had been watching the cards very carefully, memorising who held what, the cards that had gone from the pack and therefore, by default, those that remained. It was an easy enough task when she could hold the whereabouts of three packs in her head at any given time.

      Razeby was rolling a counter within his hand. ‘Fifty pounds.’ He threw a pile of ten counters into the centre of the table.

      She swallowed at the enormity of the bet.

      Monteith glanced down at his three remaining counters and shook his head. ‘Too high. Out.’

      All eyes moved to Alice. She stayed calm, relaxed, still. Leaned back in her chair and met Razeby’s warm brown eyes.

      His gaze seemed to stroke against hers as he waited with everyone else for what she would do.

      She smiled. ‘Fifty pounds.’ She matched the stake with ten counters of her own.

      Monteith gave a chuckle. ‘You do not frighten her, Razeby.’

      She did not let herself think of the sums of money with which they were playing. Enough to last a poor man a lifetime. If her mother knew just how much money was on that table being gambled away…! Alice pushed the thought away, focused her mind. Money or clothes, in the end the game was just the same, if she kept her nerve.

      Razeby did not so much as raise an eyebrow. He stayed cool, impassive. Just the hint of a smile upon his face.

      Devlin met the stake. But when they turned over their cards Devlin lost his counters and was forced to bow out of the game, leaving only Alice, Razeby and the dealer to play the seventeenth hand.

      The dealer dealt each of them their two cards.

      It was Alice who was to set the stake this time. She met Razeby’s gaze. Their eyes held, each knowing the other’s strengths and weaknesses in this game. A test of nerve, a test of so much more.

       Never let them see how much they’ve hurt you.

      She smiled, hearing the words from so long ago in her head. Hurt just made you stronger. She did not let her gaze drop from his, held it as boldly as she had done that first night in the Green Room before he had been hers, and she, his. Held it and did not let it go.

      ‘All in, two hundred pounds,’ she said, and pushed all of her counters forwards.

      The gasp rippled round the table.

      ‘Good Lord,’ she heard Fallingham mutter.

      Beside her, Bullford produced a handkerchief and mopped at his brow.

      The whole room was tense, poised for the next step. They stared at Razeby to see what he would do.

      His eyes met hers again.

      The attraction, the affinity that had always been between them was still there, stronger than ever. Powerful. Dangerous. Beguiling.

      ‘As you will, Miss Sweetly,’ he murmured, and pushed all of his counters in to match hers.

      Not a single voice spoke, not a glass sounded. Even the serving maids stopped where they were and stared to see what would happen.

      The dealer’s voice broke the silence. ‘Lord Razeby…’

      Razeby looked his cards. ‘Stick.’ He smiled at her.

      ‘Miss Sweetly?’ the dealer prompted.

      She lifted her own, glanced down at them. ‘Twist.’

      The dealer dealt her a third card.

      ‘Twist again.’

      A fourth card came her way.

      ‘And again if you’d be so kind, sir.’

      There was a murmur of voices all around.

      The dealer looked at Razeby. ‘Please show, Lord Razeby.’

      There was a craning of necks to see as Razeby laid his cards down on the table.

      ‘Queen of hearts, king of hearts. Twenty,’ the dealer’s voice intoned.

      There was an irony in both cards. She wondered if Razeby realised it, too. That deep dark look in his eyes was so full of meanings that she could not tell.

      ‘Please show, Miss Sweetly.’

      Everyone looked at Alice as she laid the five cards down on the green baize: ace of hearts, two of hearts, three of spades, five of diamonds, queen of diamonds.

      ‘Five-card trick,’ said the dealer.

      The buzz of excited voices spread throughout the room around them, followed by a silence as the dealer turned over his own cards. A ten and a seven. He added another from the pile—the six of clubs. ‘Bust.’ He cleared the cards with one smooth movement of his hand. ‘Miss Sweetly wins.’

      ‘Congratulations, Miss Sweetly.’ Razeby was magnanimous in defeat, his dark gaze lingering on hers.

      ‘Thank you, Lord Razeby,’ she said with an innocence that belied the look in her eye.

      ‘Alice, I cannot believe your luck tonight!’ Sara exclaimed and hugged her, and the gentlemen clamoured excitedly all around.

      ‘I say, Miss Sweetly!’ Bullford was beaming by her side.

      ‘Congratulations, Miss Sweetly.’ Devlin was shaking her hand.

      ‘Well СКАЧАТЬ