Chapter 16 #2
Susanna was not particularly interested in playing but had no excuse to give. She followed the party to the table in a daze, her feet seemed to barely touch the ground.
Henry began to distribute counters for the game.
Like any keen player, Susanna owned a collection of game counters.
Hers was an eclectic set that included metal, wood, ivory, and mother-of-pearl pieces of various sizes and shapes.
Some she had purchased and some she had won in games over the years.
She had left her collection in London and so gladly accepted Henry’s fish-shaped mother-of-pearl counters.
Mr. Scott offered to be the banker and, when nobody objected, began to shuffle the cards.
Susanna normally enjoyed playing commerce. There was a thrill in trying to build the perfect three-card hand by trading and an exquisite torture when the trade did not go in her favor. She played to win but was civil in defeat.
As Mr. Scott dealt the cards, Susanna kept glancing at the door, anxious for Ambrose to return. Would seeing him feel different now that she understood her heart? She felt so changed that she was certain everyone would be able to tell.
Perhaps when he returned, he would sit beside her? She might show him her easy temperament by losing gracefully.
“Now let’s have fun,” Henry said as he sat at Susanna’s right hand.
She nodded, trying to hide her disappointment.
Henry was a terrible player, he cared more about making others happy than winning. Even when Grace gave him good cards he lost, because he gave her his best ones.
Susanna glanced at her cards and had to suppress a smile.
This would be a good distraction. A ten of hearts, a ten of spades, and a nine of spades.
It was a strong hand but would be made stronger if she could trade the nine for a ten.
Three of a kind made a tricon, the highest possible combination—only three aces would beat her.
She looked at the other players. Miss Witworth and Mr. Scott looked pleased, while Miss Colley frowned. Grace met Susanna’s eye with a smile that she couldn’t quite read, and then Mr. Scott began the game.
“Who will trade?” he asked and looked at Miss Colley seated to his left.
“For ready money,” Miss Colley replied.
She handed a card and a counter to Mr. Scott. He dutifully took the counter, added it to his pile, and dealt her a new card. Judging by her face she did not like the new card any better.
“Done,” Miss Colley said, signaling it was Susanna’s turn.
Susanna briefly considered ending the game by calling a stop to commerce, but she wanted to try for the third ten and observe the other players actions.
“I won’t trade,” she said with a grin. “I’m done.”
Mr. Scott’s eyebrows rose, while William groaned lightly.
Henry went next and, as Susanna knew he would, asked to buy a card from the dealer.
Henry rarely traded his cards with other players for fear of upsetting them.
Play went around the table, allowing Susanna to analyze the others’ choices.
She was fairly certain that William and Miss Witworth held the best hands.
She decided to buy a card from the bank on her turn.
However, when Miss Colley said done, Mr. Scott turned to Henry.
“Arden, will you trade?”
“It is my turn,” Susanna said.
Mr. Scott frowned. “No, it is not.”
Susanna returned his frown. “And why not?”
“Because you did not trade on the first turn,” Mr. Scott explained slowly.
Miss Colley nodded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“That is not a rule,” Susanna said.
“Wait, now,” William said with a smirk, “Scott is the banker. If he says it is a rule, then it is a rule.”
“One cannot invent rules because they are the banker.” Susanna’s frustration leaked into every syllable.
“But that is a rule,” Miss Colley said.
Susanna liked her less and less.
“I have played the game both ways,” Miss Witworth added.
“Thank you.” Susanna smiled across the table at the soft-spoken woman. She turned to her friend. “Grace, it is your house, surely your preferences should determine the rules.”
“That’s unfair,” William jumped in, clearly enjoying himself. “Grace will side with you.”
“There is no side,” Grace said with a firm look at her brother.
“Because I am right,” Susanna added.
Grace cocked her head, her dark eyes pleading for Susanna to make peace.
Henry stared uncomfortably at his cards.
She held in a sigh. A part of Susanna knew that it was uncharitable for her to argue over the rule.
Though Mr. Scott was also to blame, there would be no issue if he weren’t so inflexible.
It was hard not to feel the injustice of the situation, but for the sake of Grace, Susanna would compromise.
“I am perfectly content to adhere to the rule on the next round,” Susanna said sweetly.
She thought it a fair offer, but Mr. Scott, with his lowered brow and barely concealed frustration, obviously disagreed.
William chuckled and the other ladies exchanged a confused glance.
“Very well, I won’t trade,” she said in a clipped tone. “But I still have a turn and I say it is time to stop commerce.”
Her words ended the round.
It was petty and she would probably lose, but it felt like a victory. Susanna did not hide her smirk as she looked about, but it disappeared when she saw Ambrose standing just inside the door. He was in shadow and so she could not make out his features. He was likely glowering.
Her heart sank to her toes. How much of the argument had he heard? Enough to determine that she was not charitable and lacked an easy temperament? Oh, why must she be so competitive? Her ears grew hot with shame. How would he ever return her feelings?
He stepped forward out of the shadows, and she was shocked to see that his lips were curled in amusement. Her foolish heart wanted to believe he smiled because of her.
Groans rang out around the table as cards were revealed. Susanna returned her attention to the others.
“Three kings,” William exclaimed as he looked at Miss Witworth’s cards. “You should have called the game on your turn.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t want to end the round early.”
That Miss Witworth had displayed grace and gentility while Susanna was being petty and vindictive was almost too much to bear.
“I suppose that is just desserts for opposing the banker,” Susanna said with as much playfulness as she could muster.
Half smiles and a low chuckle greeted her attempt at levity. She glanced at Ambrose, who had stepped farther into the room. His smile had grown.
Suddenly it did not matter that she had lost. His smile was worth more than all the counters on the table. For the man she loved, she would lose every single game.