A Gamble // Benedict Bridgerton

Chapter Eleven

Word Count: 3,292 words.

Warnings: None. 

By the time that Evelyn and Edward returned to the Palace, her Royal Highness had already found herself feeling better. The tickle in her throat had disappeared, and her migraine was almost non-existent. As her brother led her towards her chambers, Evelyn began to think that perhaps it had simply been as the doctor had said: blood caught up in her lungs.

She arrived to the Mondrich's early, hoping to find an empty room before the crowds arrived. In the two days since the club had opened, she had been told that it had quickly become more popular than White's. Evelyn had to commend Mr. Mondrich for such a feat, but was unable to find him upon arrival. She had also wished to apologise for her absence on opening night. 

The drawing room where the chess table had been laid out was much smaller than the one at White's. Slowly making her way towards it, Evelyn picked up the black King, smiling at the pieces carved from wood and polished to perfection. She began to wonder why there always seemed to be a chess table wherever she went. There were several in the Palace, three at White's and now one in the Mondrich's. Evelyn was even certain that she had spotted another in the Bridgerton's drawing room.

"A very logical game; chess," another voice commented, and she heard the door open.

She placed the piece down, smile dropping slightly. "How are you this evening Mr. Dorset?" When Evelyn turned, she rest her hands against the small table. "I was not expecting to see you here."

He cast a look at the rest of the room before licking his lips. "I had heard that this club was becoming increasingly popular in such a short amount of time and so I had to investigate."

"Did you now?"

He took a step closer, pulling his jacket off and placing it on the back of a nearby chair. "I was hoping that I would find you here."

"And why is that?" Evelyn questioned. "So that you may seduce me as you did Kate?"

He sighed, still moving closer. "I attempted to grow close to her as a favour to Anthony."

"Yes, to trick the older sister into leaving the younger one behind so that Lord Anthony Bridgerton could swoop in and steal her," she commented.

Hand in his pocket, she took note of how handsome he was in that light. The way that his curled hair sat on his forehead and how his hands tensed. Evelyn took a deep breath, attempting to push away such attraction. He was no longer her paramour. 

"I believe you were tasked with distracting Lord Lumley, were you not?" he posed. "It was certainly a failure."

"He requested that I distract him; Anthony Bridgerton does not tell me what to do," she countered, correcting him. "It was only a failure due to Lord Lumley's honour. A good man does not think of another woman when pursuing the love of his life."

Now inches from her, Thomas trailed a finger up her bare arm and she shivered. "Of course, for no one could ever control you, princess."

She used to enjoy the nickname, adore it even, but now that it came out of his mouth, she wanted to cringe in disgust. Evelyn hated the way that Thomas Dorset said it.

"And yet, it seems, that everyone controls you. If I did not know any better, I would say that you enjoy being told what to do."

He rose his hand to her collarbone, tracing along the front of her neck. She swallowed, remembering what had drawn her to him in the first place.