The Missing Heir. Gail Ranstrom

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СКАЧАТЬ she could only think of that extraordinary kiss in the library and how she wished it could happen again, despite what she’d told him. She willed her breathing to even and her heartbeat to slow. There was nothing for it but to brazen it out. “Lead on, sir,” she said.

      Laughter trailed off and conversation stilled as Lord Geoffrey led her into a small side room. Just the appearance of a woman could, evidently, make men feel awkward. She was entering a male domain—one that few women ever saw. It would take all her resources to ignore the fact that she wasn’t wanted here.

      Lord Geoffrey led her to one of the three tables in the room and announced, “Mrs. Forbush, may I present—”

      “Mrs. Forbush, how are you?” Reginald said, rising, extending his hand and smiling widely.

      “I’m well, thank you, Lord Reginald.” She turned to Adam, standing, too, and appraising her with a speculative gleam in his deep hazel eyes. “I see you are fitting quite comfortably back into society, Mr. Hawthorne.”

      Adam bowed and when he straightened he gave her a crooked smile coupled with one raised eyebrow. “Parts of it,” he said laconically.

      He was the polar opposite of the man in buckskins she had met for the first time—now elegantly attired in sober black with a deep green waistcoat over an impeccably tied cravat. He had evidently not needed assistance with that tonight. How would she ever be able to sit across the table from him and keep from watching the way his eyes sparkled in a jest or thinking of how those lips felt on hers?

      Lord Reginald, looking puzzled a moment before, began to laugh. “Ah, yes. Now I recall. Mrs. Forbush, you and Hawthorne are somehow related, are you not?”

      Lord Geoffrey turned to her in surprise. “How so, Mrs. Forbush?”

      “Through marriage. My late husband was Mr. Hawthorne’s uncle.”

      He glanced from her to Adam and back again. “Life never ceases to amaze and delight me,” he said. He held a chair for her before taking his own across from her. “May I assume you are not in league with Mr. Hawthorne to relieve me of my ready?”

      Adam leaned back in his chair and gave an easy smile but did not rise to the bait. Grace could not tell if he was insulted or amused by the gibe.

      She merely laughed and turned to Reginald. “Forgive me Lord Reginald, but may I assume that you and Mr. Hawthorne are not in league to take advantage of a novice?”

      “Touché, Mrs. Forbush,” Lord Geoffrey acknowledged.

      With a glance and nod in the direction of a house monitor whose duty it was to observe the activities at each table, Lord Geoffrey began to shuffle the deck. Grace noted how nimble he was, how adept at handling the cards. And how quick. He slid the deck to his right and Adam cut them before Lord Geoffrey began the deal. The last card, dealt face up, was a heart, declaring the trump suit.

      When Grace opened her hand and sorted her cards, she was pleased to find seven hearts. She looked up at her partner, wondering if he had somehow known and manipulated the cards. But how could he? Even if he’d known the bottom card was a heart, how could he have dealt her hearts from the middle of the deck? He was studying his hand with rapt concentration and nothing in his expression or bearing indicated that cheating was afoot. Her hand must be a happy coincidence.

      Lord Reginald led and the play began. At one point she glanced up to find Morgan studying her over his hand. He raised his eyebrows as if asking a question. She smiled, realizing he was flirting with her. Rather effectively, too.

      When she took the last trick for a total of ten, Lord Geoffrey smiled. “Well done, partner,” he said.

      “Well dealt,” she answered.

      Lord Reginald, completely unperturbed, gathered the cards and began to shuffle. “As it is my turn to deal, I shall try to give my partner likewise good cards.”

      Grace shot a quick glance at Lord Reginald. Was he intimating that he suspected Lord Geoffrey of cheating in the deal? There did not seem to be a challenge in his eyes.

      “Excellent!” Adam said, cutting through the tension. “Mrs. Forbush made rather short work of us, did she not? I’ll relish the chance to even the score.”

      “Nothing like a little competition,” Lord Geoffrey said. “It always sharpens the senses and adds excitement, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Hawthorne?”

      Meeting Lord Geoffrey’s gaze, Adam gave a half smile, one that only lifted one corner of his mouth. “If the stakes are high enough,” he said with a hint of challenge.

      Lord Geoffrey nodded and returned his attention to the cards. Was there some sort of history between the men?

      The next several hands went more slowly than the first, but Grace wasn’t aware of the passage of time until she felt Barrington’s hand on her shoulder.

      “Here you are, Grace. It is time for us to go. Let’s fetch your wrap.”

      “Come now, Barrington,” Lord Geoffrey protested. “I’ve scarce had such good luck with partners before.”

      “Too bad, Morgan. Grace is coming with me.”

      Grace looked over her shoulder to see Barrington’s face. He was completely serious! She lowered her voice to a conciliatory tone. “As soon as I finish this hand—”

      “Now.”

      A hush fell over the table as the men looked from her to Barrington and back. She folded her cards and took a deep breath. Every instinct she had told her to avoid the scene—to do whatever she must to smooth this over and keep the peace, as she’d done with Leland her whole life—but she’d finally had enough of Barrington’s subtle bullying.

      “After I finish this hand, my lord. If you will fetch my wrap, I will be done by the time you return.”

      Barrington gripped her elbow and pulled her to her feet, tipping her chair backward in the process. She was so stunned by this maneuver that she was rendered momentarily speechless. Players at the other tables stopped to look in their direction. Barrington seemed oblivious to the attention they were drawing. She heard chairs at her own table scraping backward but kept her eyes riveted on Barrington and prayed for restraint.

      “My lord, it would be unforgivably rude of me to leave the game in progress. I am not the only one to consider here.”

      “Well, you are the only one I am considering, Grace, and you are coming with me.” He tightened his hold on her arm and pulled her away from the table.

      Adam, Morgan and Lord Reginald all stepped forward as if they would intercede. She lifted her hand to them, trying to avert the pending disaster. She must avoid a scene at any cost. All she could think of was her brother. Leland had always gotten what he wanted by bullying, demeaning and embarrassing her. She thought she had escaped that ugliness, and that she’d never be at any man’s mercy again, but here she was. She knew she should face him down, but still…

      But still the fear of Leland and of calling his attention was controlling her, forcing her compliance—at least in public. Choking on the words, she said, “Gentlemen, please excuse me. Allow me to—” she tried to open her reticule, dangling from her wrist, to withdraw the remainder of her counters “—to reimburse you for СКАЧАТЬ