Andy's Story

Chapter Four - Not So Safe Anymore

The man watched from a dark corner of the gaming room at Whites, his broad shoulder squeezed into the space between the wings of his winged backed seat, one large hand came up to rub his forehead, his fingers running across the still pink scar that passed through his left brow and down his cheek. The weapon that had created the scar had barely missed his eye, but thankfully it had.

His brown eyes were taking in the scene before him in horror. Flabbergasted, he shook his head.

He himself would never be caught dead playing with the man, nay the worm, opposite, for he could in no way be called a man, let alone a gentleman. If the Lady every found out what her brother was up to and whom he was playing against, she would be wiser to run then to stay and fight, he thought. He had only seen the Lady once from a distance, across a crowded ballroom. And from that observation he knew there was no way she could win the fight again such a low-life.

She didn't deserve this fate. No woman, let alone a Lady, deserved that fate.

Lord Wentworth had just bet his sister in a game of chance.

And lost.

He watched as the colour drained out of Wentworth's face, and how his hands shook slightly.

"Another round, my lord?" He heard Wentworth ask, probably in the hopes that he could win her, and his pile of vowels, back.

The poor man had no chance. And by the sound of it, no sense either.

His sister was as good as gone.

Another round ensued.

Watching the game carefully from his seat in the corner he narrowed his eyes, his occupation during the war helping him see things others didn't.

The flick of a wrist, the slip of a card.

The man was a cheat. A captain sharp!

If he said anything it would be his undoing. But he couldn't say nothing though. Getting up, he moved behind the crowd of spectators and, sticking to the shadows, whispered: "He's a cheat. Watch his hands, check his sleeves."

They could never discover that he was the original source.

And so the man whispered and watched and circulated the room before returning to his seat in the corner, and crossing one long leg over the other he lent back in his chair waiting for events to unfold.

A moment later "Cheat! Black's cheating!" was heard around the gaming room. The cry being taken up by others too. One gentleman, bolder then the rest, walked up to the table and stood glaring down at Blackmoor.

"Take off your jacket, my lord." Blackmoor looked up at him with cold ice blue eyes, noticed the other man's pallor and smirked, he could instil fear just by sitting here. Slowing getting up from his chair, Black removed his jacket. For with all the other gentlemen watching him, what choice did he have? Someone was going to pay for this.

"Hand it over." The gentleman said as he extended his hand to receive the jacket.

Blackmoor handed over his jacket and watched as it was upended and shaken and then as a few cards came falling out. Gasps filled the silence of the room as the jacket gave up its secrets. More cards in hidden pockets were found as the jacket was given a thorough search.

"You cheater!" Wentworth exclaimed as he saw the proof with his own eyes. "I don't owe you anything." Reaching over the table he collected all the vowels from that night and then getting up he walked to the fire and throw them in. "And that applies to my sister too."