A Game of Hearts

Chapter three

When the initial shock of the altercation in Matilda's dressing room had died down and the coach carrying Matilda and the earl the short fare to the Ritz on Place Vendome, another feeling made her shoulders shake: Anger.

Anger at Penelope for meddling in her business, anger at Lord Ellismere for coercing her to go back to England, and anger at herself for agreeing.

It wasn't fair: She'd said yes in a state of shock after one of her most promising and generous patrons had been overpowered by this taciturn and clearly miserable earl. As easy as nothing, Lord Ellismere had completely humiliated Monsieur d'Albret and put him to the floor. Even if she had chosen to stay in Paris and Monsieur d'Albret by some miraculous turn would not hold the humiliation to Matilda, he'd most likely never even consider being her patron again, let alone recommending her to others. She would have other, less generous clients, but earning a reputation as troublesome would be damning for her budding career.

And now, the day after, she found herself in a first-class train car from Paris to London with this dour earl, who had not said more than five words to her the entire first leg of the trip and for the duration of the crossing: "Good morning" at the hotel, "this way" at the train station and "here" when they located their train car. Usually, Matilda knew which buttons to press to make men do her bidding, but the earl gave her nothing to work with, apart from a scowl of disapproval here and there. Either way, she didn't have anything to say to him and preferred to sulk in the corner of the first-class train cabin, boring as it was.

Outside, the Kentish countryside was rolling by: Large swathes of green fields, rolling hills and the occasional station village dotted along the railway. The early March sky was grey, covered in a layer of impenetrable clouds. It was ten years since Matilda had set foot back in England, and seeing the damp countryside roll past, she remembered why she hadn't exactly missed it

The rhythmic metalling chak-chak chak-chak chak-chak of the train wheel on the railway tracks did nothing to still Matilda's boredom. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Tapping her foot on the cabin floor, she sighed in frustration.

The earl was reading a book, but the font on the spine was so minute, that Matilda had no chance of deciphering what it said from this distance. His dark brown eyes ran over the lines of text, but as Matilda's feet kept bouncing off the floor of the wagon in small but repetitive movements, they snapped up to meet hers over the top of the book. A dark patch of blue and purple had started to form under his left eye after Monsieur d'Albrat had attacked him, and it did nothing to soften the look of annoyance in his eyes.

"What?" He asks quietly and curtly so as to not disturb the elderly woman dozing off on the opposite side of the cabin. He snapped the book, a red ledger-like volume, shut.

"Nothing," Matilda shot back and let her gaze fall to the book in the earl's hand. "What are you reading?"

"Nothing someone like you would find interesting" he answered curtly, and put the book down.

Gosh, Matilda thought, he is annoying, and rolled her eyes. She knew he saw, but didn't comment.

"How'd you know?" She yapped at him, annoyed at his dismissal. He didn't answer with words, just a sigh. Training his eyes on the countryside passing by outside, he clearly wanted to end this short-lived conversation. But feeling increasingly vexed by his dismissive air and the events of yesterday, Matilda was even more tested by the Earl's reaction than she'd normally be, and she wasn't very patient to begin with.

"Do you think of me as a fool, Lord Ellismere?" She asked through gritted teeth. She hated being underestimated, especially by men. And she'd found that men like Lord Ellismere were just the type to underestimate her the most: Educated at the right schools and universities, being of superior class and economic standing, it was Matilda's experience that they often mistook a better education and the difference of their sexes to be a proof of their superior intelligence. More often than not, they didn't even realise that they only fooled themselves and that she was able to see right through them. It seemed to her, that Lord Ellismere was no different.