Seven
“Ho!” Colonel Holbrook crowed. He swept the upturned cards littered across the center of the table into a pile before him. “It appears we’ve won again, Lady Wheaton.”
John ground his teeth and shifted irritably in his wooden chair. He leaned into Penelope seated beside him. “I do believe we’re being cheated.” He could stomach losing so long as the circumstances were fair.
Her gaze slid to meet his. “I’d noticed.” A cheeky smile tugged at her lips. “Follow my lead.”
John quirked a questioning brow as she adopted a flirty air and leaned even closer, sliding her palm around his jacket sleeve just above the wrist.
Penelope laughed lightly. “Forgive me, Major, I’m deplorable when it comes to card games.” Though speaking to John, she made firm, steady eye contact with Colonel Holbrook. “By the eve’s end you’ll wish to be partnered with Lady Wheaton.”
“Nonsense,” John replied, suppressing a grin as she covertly slipped an ace from the cards still propped in his hand. “Just a run of bad luck. I have a feeling your luck is about to change.” He flipped the remaining cards onto the table. “Whose deal?”
“Mine.” Penelope smiled sweetly and reached for the cards. John watched carefully as she scooped up the cards, shuffled and deftly flipped the cards out in clockwise order around the table. The ace from his previous hand reappeared along with one other and a king and queen of the same suit. Impressed, he shifted a sly gaze to Penelope. Her freckled cheeks flushed bright pink while her pale eyes sparkled with mischief. Not much of a gambling face, but would Holbrook or Lady Wheaton suspect sweet little Penelope of stacking the deck? Likely not.
Lady Wheaton led out with a fairly weak card, and, as a team, Penelope and John won handily.
When John scooped up the winning hand, the colonel sputtered in shock, mouth agape, the absolute shock of losing just one round evident in his wide, round eyes.
It was enough. That one hand Penelope gave him—cheating ‘a cheat’ out of one point in cards, even if he lost the overall bet, was enough to make his entire evening. He’d find the opportunity to thank her later.
Penelope’s blonde cousin—damned if he could remember her name—rushed to the table. Penelope rose anxiously and her cousin whispered furtively in her ear. “Gentleman, my lady, if you’ll excuse me.” Penelope cast a quick glance toward John, eyes brimming with nervousness, and swept from the room.
“Odd girl,” Lady Wheaton said, taking a large gulp from her wine glass. “Pity. One could only hope she doesn’t take after her father.”
John cocked a questioning brow. “What about her father?”
Lady Wheaton didn’t readily answer. She appeared far too busy waving down a footman to refill her wine glass.
“He’s known as the ‘mad earl’.” Holbrook scooped up the cards and began to shuffle.
“The mad earl?” John shook his head. “Lord Blackmore is of perfectly sound mind.”
Holbrook leaned forward, gaze narrowed on John. “Until recently perhaps. In the last couple of years the earl has become increasingly eccentric. Some are beginning to fear latent madness runs in his family.” He hesitated, squaring the cards and setting the deck in the middle of the table before folding his hands before him. “It severely hindered Lady Penelope’s chances at a decent match last season.”
John returned Holbrook’s glare without flinching. He recognized the colonel’s attempt to warn him off of Penelope for what it was. “Which would explain her interest in you.” John stood. “If you’ll excuse me. I’ll have my man cut you a bank draft for our wager tomorrow afternoon.” He nodded to Lady Wheaton. “My lady.”
