Regina was the first to bet. A quid. Could she have that good of a hand? The remaining two players folded, leaving only him against her. What were the odds she was bluffing? Her implacable facade was impossible to read. That hadn’t been the case when he’d first known her. Everything she’d felt was revealed in her sweet smile and dark brown eyes. Eyes that had been so innocent then, trusting.
Now they stated succinctly that she knew fairy tales were a lie. He’d done that to her. The pain that knowledge confirmed nearly doubled him over.
He met her quid and raised her two. Without hesitation, she tossed in two quid and followed it with three more. Her gaze landed on his with an almost audible thud. Only now he could read the challenge in those icy eyes. If he didn’t match her amount, she wouldn’t have to show her cards; he wouldn’t know what she’d been holding.
It wasn’t as though he couldn’t afford to lose three more pounds. His coffers were flush. It was the principle of the matter. He didn’t want to be taken for a fool if she was bluffing. On the other hand, perhaps winning would give her a reason to smile. He was suddenly desperate for her smile. He slid three tokens, valued at a quid each, across the baize tabletop to the center pile. “I’ll call.”
With no alteration in her expression at all, she set down her cards, faceup. A pair of aces.
With a slow grin, he revealed his hand—an assortment of numbers and suits that failed to come together in any meaningful way. “I was hoping you were bluffing.”
“Unlike you, my lord, I never bluff or render a falsehood.” She began gathering her winnings and depositing them into a black pouch. “I’ll be calling it a night now.”
She stood, and he did the same, stuffing his few remaining tokens into a pocket to be used on another night, and grabbed his book. After she walked past him, he followed. “I’ll provide you with a ride in my carriage.”
“I have a carriage waiting.”
“Then join me in the library for a drink.”
Coming to an abrupt halt, she whirled around. “Are you jealous? You hear someone might favor me, and suddenly you’re giving me attention. Do not for a single moment believe I am fool enough to trust all the flattering words you are so skilled at delivering with such utter conviction.”
“I’m not . . . I just . . . I simply want the opportunity to apologize again, to seek forgiveness.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “’Tis given. Now leave me be.”
She spun on her heel—
“Am I Lord K?”
Facing him, she narrowed her eyes to that of a fine-honed blade designed to slice him to ribbons. “How the devil should I know?”
“I lied earlier. I had skimmed through the pages, until I found the garden scene everyone is on about. I once held you in a garden exactly as described.”
She released a long, drawn-out sigh. “Which would make me the author. Well, I didn’t lie. I’ve not read the book, so I’ve no inkling regarding what transpired in the garden scene. However, based upon your reputation, I suspect you held a good many ladies in the same manner in a good many gardens. Look to one of them. Now, good night, my lord.”
With that, she marched to the door and disappeared through it.
But she was wrong. He’d never held any other woman in a garden in the same manner as described. Only her.
She hadn’t been bluffing at the table, but was she bluffing now? Could she possibly be Anonymous? But knowing how she valued her privacy, he couldn’t imagine her putting the personal details of her life to paper and then publishing them. No, what he’d read of the book thus far and the memories of their time together that the words and descriptions conjured were simply coincidence. Introductions happened all the time. As did assignations in gardens.
Yet like the lady in the tome regarding her gentleman, the night they’d met was one he’d never forget.
Chapter 2
April 1870
“No flirting this evening, Knight,” King grumbled as his coach journeyed over the rough road. “I don’t want to have to search through various alcoves for you when I’m ready to take my leave.”
“Dash it all, King, if I’d known you were going to spoil my fun, I’d not have agreed to accompany you on this detour before meeting up with Bishop and Rook. I can’t for the life of me determine why you’re going to all the bother and delaying our amusements with the others. You’re not going to marry a chit born out of wedlock.”
“Mother has a soft spot for wounded creatures and feared the girl would suffer through the embarrassment of having no one in attendance at this affair where Bremsford is introducing her to Society. Although the twenty thousand pounds he’s settled on her is certain to draw some young bucks.”
He was also including in her dowry a small estate on the outskirts of London that included several acres of lush land and a manor to serve as her dower house when the time came. Tonight, it was the setting for the grand ball that had been the topic of wagging tongues among the elite for weeks. “Do you know anything about her other than her scandalous beginnings and Bremsford wanting to pawn her off to someone legitimate?”
“She’s the daughter of his longtime mistress, who was an accomplished actress, according to Mother. Although she doesn’t approve of infidelity, she still enjoys a good love story and apparently Bremsford’s was one for the ages. The earl was devoted to the girl’s mother and remains devoted to his illegitimate offspring more than to his legitimate ones. I can’t imagine any of it has sat well with his countess, his heir, or his other two daughters.”
“Do you think any of them will be attending tonight?”
“I rather doubt it.”
The coach came to a stop. A footman stepped forward and opened the door. Knight waited until his friend, the duke, had disembarked. While they were equal on many levels, Knight never forgot that until he inherited his father’s title, Duke of Wyndstone, King outranked him, and Knight was conscious of showing his friend the deference he deserved when they were in a public arena.
As they wandered toward the manor, a young lady caught Knight’s attention and gave him a shy smile. Tipping his hat, he bestowed upon her a grin filled with the promise of a kissing lesson to be given in a secluded corner. She was in the process of pressing her fan to her right cheek, the signal for yes, was only an inch away from it, when her mother grabbed her arm and began dragging her along. The lady glanced back. He pressed a hand to his chest, to indicate his sorrow that she’d be watched by a hawk.
“I said no flirting,” King reminded him.
“I’ve not sampled Lady Lisbet yet. A kiss doesn’t take that long.”
“So you say, but your reputation states otherwise.”
“Depends on the lady, I suppose. Where’s your sense of adventure, King?”
“Waiting for me after I’ve seen to this tedious task.”
As they climbed the few steps to the open door, several unaccompanied men were making their way inside. Knowing a good many of them, all unmarried, Knight decided they’d been drawn by the pounds. The spares also probably wanted to look around the residence in which they might possibly live—if they didn’t have one of their own. No reason for the abode to remain vacant until she was a widow.