Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“You must.”
“There is nothing I must do,” I said, a warning note in my voice. “I won the pot. I was willing to walk earlier, and you insisted. You knew the risk.”
He sat down, defeated. I glanced around, a small fissure of guilt hitting me. I had taken everything. It wasn’t him I was worried about, but his servants. The innocents who would suffer. The villagers to whom he no doubt owed for this party. The butcher, the grocer. They would suffer because he had squandered all the money.
I stood. “Contact my solicitor, Barnett. Make a fair offer on the estate, and I will purchase it. Do not risk any more debt.”
He glared. “I do not need your charity.”
I was puzzled. “You would rather lose another hand, more money, than make an honest trade? Cash for the land and house you agree is worthless.”
“And why are you being so charitable?” he demanded.
Aside from Edward and the old butler, we were alone, the last of the players having become bored and seeking brandy and their own company rather than watch the game between us. The hour was late, and I, too, was tired and wanted this evening over. I got what I came for. My land and apparently a new servant. I had no need to add more hard times to this man—even though I disliked him intensely.
“Because I have grown weary and have lost my taste for the game. Perhaps I can salvage something at Milton Manor—at least, what is left of it.”
“No.”
I shrugged and stood, Edward moving forward to take my winnings from the table. “I will bid you good night, then.”
I left him at the table, grabbing the cards, muttering to himself. He would never figure out how the deck was misprinted. He couldn’t demand retribution without showing his own misdeeds. He couldn’t accuse me of anything for the same reason. It had taken us a long time to figure out the codes and break them, as well as produce an exact match to the cards so he couldn’t tell them apart.
We went upstairs, shutting my door behind me.
“This could get disagreeable if he manages to figure it out.”
“I am aware.”
“I suggest we leave before daylight.”
I nodded, scrubbing my hand over my face. “I believe you are correct, my friend.”
“He can prove nothing without implicating himself. There would be a long line of angry gentlemen after him if word got out he had been duping these games. His life would be forfeit, I think.”
“I know. But best to be safe.”
“I will replace our deck of cards with a duplicate of his own before we leave. He will be even more baffled.”
“Good.” I lit a cheroot, needing the calming action. I exhaled by the window, staring into the darkness.
“And what of the girl?” he asked. “What are your plans?”
The housekeeper had come and removed her from the room once play began again. I recalled her face. The delicate beauty. The painfully thin form under the too-big gown. The terror in her eyes.
“Part of me wants to leave her here. She is not any of my concern. But…” I trailed off, once again her anxiety pushing against my thoughts. “I assume Mrs. Dougall could find a place for her within the household. Or perhaps a situation with Beckett in London. His new wife is a gentle sort. She would be safe there. Or the village. She could find work there if I vouch for her.”
“I do not think she would make it on her own,” Edward stated quietly. “There is something infinitely…fragile about her.”
“London, then.” I decided. It would be best if she weren’t close. She was distracting in a different sort of way—a displeasing one. I had a feeling that distraction might be my downfall.
MADELEINE
In the storeroom, I attended to my evening duties with only half a mind on the organizing of the goods we had received earlier from the village. They were meager, and I doubted they would be sufficient to accommodate my father’s guests for more than a day or perhaps two at best. But maybe the guests would be leaving soon if their sport was at an end.
The thought made a chill sweep over me just as the familiar footsteps of Mrs. Wells cut through the stillness of the air.
The housekeeper stopped at the threshold to the small room, her face as unreadable as a mask. “Lord Barnett requires you in the drawing room again, girl.”
This summons was no different from the last. However, a few hours before, I hadn’t any notion of what awaited me. Now, I did. My breath caught.
Instinctively, I knew that the game was over. My fate had been decided whilst I had been tending to the flour and sugar.
“Of course, Mrs. Wells.” I curtsied.
Her eyes narrowed. “You will return to completing your evening tasks after his lordship has finished with you.”