CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FOUR
Never had I been more grateful to be born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I knew I wore my privilege easily, and I channelled the Dowager Countess Wynter at her most chilly as I glided, back rigidly straight, through the gaming hall. Even this hulking fellow was no match for the arrogant self-assurance of an aristocrat used to getting their own way, and his countenance grew less ferocious and more uncomfortable with every step.
I might have felt a twinge of sympathy had I not been busy simmering with frustration. I didn’t care for being ordered around. Particularly when a plan I’d been working on for months was paying off.
We dipped behind one of the green curtains and climbed a set of steep stairs. Upon reaching a door at the top, the behemoth beside me knocked lightly.
“Come in,” a voice called, and even with that single phrase, through the door, I knew it was him . The man from the library. It must have been the way goosebumps erupted across my skin.
My giant turned the door handle and swung it open, and – for the pleasure of it – I treated him to a long, hard stare, extra flinty. I thought I saw a flush of colour stain his cheeks.
“After you, miss,” he grunted, and then looked surprised by his own good manners.
“Thank you,” I replied, sweeping past him, the whisper of my apricot-coloured silk skirts against the floorboards loud in the silence. This room felt far away from the hustle and bustle below.
The light in here was dimmer, and the office was dominated by an enormous desk. There was scant other furniture, only a seat in front of the desk, and one behind it. Sprawled in the chair facing me was a man.
My breath caught.
As a child I’d often demanded Max play a game with me, where I was Anne Bonny – pirate queen – and he my helpless captive forced to walk the plank. He’d rarely obliged – playing games was below his dignity. As far as I could remember, Max was born an old man. Still, I’d dreamed of that life of swashbuckling adventure, had long been fascinated by tales of pirates and their wicked, reckless deeds.
This was precisely the word that flashed through my mind at the sight of this man.
Pirate .
He was older than me, though I reckoned not by much, despite the way he held himself, with the confidence of an experienced man. Tall and lean with hair that fell in dark waves to brush the edge of his collar, he had a sharp face, with a strong jaw, and while he didn’t have a beard, nor was he clean-shaven. He was dressed carelessly – his jacket nowhere in sight, his shirtsleeves rolled up, a dark waistcoat, loose and unbuttoned, thrown on top. There was a glint of gold as he turned his head, and a matching gleam in his dark eyes as he swept his attention over me.
I was pleased that I didn’t falter as I made my way further into the room, sinking with all the grace I possessed (a good deal thanks to my mother’s insistence on endless lessons in deportment – this was the first time I’d felt gratitude for them) into the single vacant chair.
There was a moment of silence. I cleared my throat.
“I understand from this” – I wrinkled my nose, casting a glance at the giant who still stood by the door – “ gentleman , that you wished to see me.”
The gleam in the pirate’s eyes seemed to deepen with appreciation.
“I certainly did,” he said, and if I had any doubts at all, they were banished then. I’d know that smoky voice anywhere. This pirate was the man I’d overheard at Iris and Nick’s wedding. Interesting.
“It seems you’ve been having some luck at our tables,” he continued easily, his fingers drumming on the edge of the desk.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I do not believe in luck.”
The drumming stopped. “No?” He raised a brow. “Then what do you call it when you win six hands in a row at vingt-et-un?”
“I call it skill,” I replied, nettled by his indolent tone.
“And I call it cheating.”
At his words, I flew out of my seat.
“How dare —” I began.
That was when I felt a heavy hand on my shoulder, and knew myself to have been pushed beyond the point of endurance. Call me a cheat? And then have his goon manhandle me? I did not think so.
And I’d spent the last two years living with Izzy.
I raised my own fingers to the giant’s hand, prising it away and twisting his wrist with a swift, sharp movement that had him crying out in surprise. Holding his wrist at an unnatural angle, which I knew would be painful but could be much worse if I chose to twist further, I stepped lightly to the side, keeping pressure on my grip.
“Do not put your hands on me.” I kept my voice level, though my pulse thundered in my ears.
The giant stared at me, his expression stunned. His mouth dropped open slightly. “I was only—” he began.
I twisted a touch harder. Enough to have him bending his knees, a low moan in his throat.
“A simple apology will suffice,” I said.
The man’s eyes darted in the direction of his employer, but I remained focused on him. I knew that to risk being distracted was a bad idea. Izzy had made me practise this motion hundreds of times, though I hadn’t believed I’d ever use it. She’d been the one to tell me: “A young woman should always be prepared to defend herself.” And her lessons were much more interesting than the ones Mother and Max foisted on me.
“I-I’m sorry,” the enormous man said now. I looked closely at his face. He didn’t seem heated or angry, only anxious and a touch embarrassed. I released my hold on him, straightening my skirts as he rubbed his wrist.
“I weren’t going to hurt you,” he said, and he looked shamefaced. “I was only goin’ to make you sit back down again.”
“What is your name?” I asked, my tone brisk.
“Davey,” the giant said, his expression sheepish.
“Well, Davey. You never touch a woman without her express invitation to do so.”
“Yes, miss, I mean – ah – my lady,” Davey said, flustered. He glanced at the man behind the desk. “Took me by surprise, Ash,” he muttered.
I patted his enormous arm – like a Christmas ham, I marvelled. “It’s not your fault,” I said. “I’ve had exceptional training.”
“So it would seem.” The amused voice drew my attention back to the pirate behind the desk – Ash, as Davey had called him.
He was grinning a wide, crooked grin, and looking at his face felt a bit like staring directly into the sun.
“I think you’d better leave the lady to me, Davey,” he said, steepling his fingers as he leaned back in his chair.
“I dunno, boss,” Davey said uneasily, and I smothered a surprised chuckle of delight. It was nice to be considered dangerous.
When I looked back at Ash, I was certain he knew exactly what I was thinking. “I’m sure we can have a civil conversation in private,” he murmured. “If you’ll promise Davey that you can keep your hands off me…”
The words hung suggestively in the air and, to my annoyance, I felt my cheeks colour.
“That won’t be a problem,” I said stiffly. “As long as you behave like a gentleman.”
Ash laughed, and when he threw his head back, I saw that the glint of gold I had noticed at his ears were a pair of small gold hoops. The man was wearing earrings! Something rolled over, slow and heavy, in my stomach.
“I’m no gentleman, love,” Ash said, waving Davey away with his hand. Although he had no clue, I knew his words for a lie. I’d overheard him, after all, at the wedding. The man was in line for a title somehow. He might not look the part, but in name at least he was a gentleman. I narrowed my eyes as I recalled his father’s words, hardly anyone knows of the connection between us. Secrets were valuable currency, perhaps this information would prove useful.
My giant cast another worried look in my direction, before lumbering away. When the door closed behind him, there was a moment of heated silence.
“Please.” Ash gestured to the chair in front of me. “Won’t you have a seat?”
“That depends,” I said, gripping the back of the chair. “Do you intend to accuse me of cheating again?”
He eyed me thoughtfully. “Not immediately,” he said after a moment. “Perhaps we could get to know one another.”
I sniffed, but sat down. “I have no desire to get to know you.” I fussed with the elbow-length sleeve of my gown, straightening the froth of lace there. “I’d simply like to collect my winnings and leave.”
When I glanced up, Ash’s eyes were on my fingers, lingering on the delicate lace of my cuffs. “Who are you?” he asked bluntly.
I raised my brows, though they were still covered by the gold silk mask. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“On the contrary.” Ash stood, and he was taller than I’d anticipated. He rounded the desk and came to lean against the front of it, so that his long legs stretched out beside me. He wore dark trousers and leather boots. He braced himself with his hands, fingers curled round the lip of the desk, and disappearing under the edge of his rolled-up sleeve I saw a sinuous line of dark ink. My stomach did that strange somersault again. He had a tattoo.
“This is my business,” he continued, and my gaze snapped from his tanned forearm to his face.
I remained stubbornly silent, and he narrowed his eyes. “If you didn’t cheat…” he began, and then raised his hand to cut off my protest. “ If you didn’t cheat, how did you win so many hands in a row?”
I considered him for a moment. There was really no reason not to tell him the truth. I hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I calculated the probabilities,” I said finally.
Whatever Ash had been expecting, this obviously wasn’t it. “Could you explain that to me?” he said slowly.
I nodded, pleasantly surprised. It was rare that a man was happy to admit he didn’t understand something instantly, rarer still that I got the opportunity to explain.
“It’s quite simple, really,” I said, leaning forward. “I assign each card that is dealt a value. If the card is between a two and a six, I add one. If the card drawn is between seven and nine, the added value is zero, if it’s above a nine, then I subtract one.”
Ash’s brow crinkled. “How does this help you to calculate the probability?”
“In basic terms, if the running total is positive, the cards are more likely to fall in my favour, if the count is negative, it’s more likely the dealer will triumph, and so one can bet accordingly. Of course, that’s a very simplified explanation; there’s a lot more nuance than that – it would be easier if I could draw some tables…” I trailed off, aware that I was getting carried away, and internally bracing myself for the condescending sneer or look of disgust that typically followed any enthusiastic demonstration of my mathematical interest.
Ash only furrowed his brow thoughtfully. “And you’re able to hold a running count in your mind over all the different hands that are dealt?”
I inclined my head. “The odds in my favour increase the further into the deck we get. If more decks are introduced, of course, it becomes more complicated. Then one must determine the true count by dividing the running count by the number of decks in play.” I narrowed my eyes. “Theoretically, you could continue to reckon the figures with a significant number of decks in the mix, but the calculations would grow increasingly complex. I have some more thinking to do in this area.”
There was a beat of silence.
“ Who are you? ” Ash asked again, and this time the question was low, as he leaned close enough that I could feel the warmth coming from his body.
I swallowed. “I’ve already told you.” My hands were twitching to do something wild like stroke the sandpaper texture of his jaw, so instead I folded them tightly in my lap. “That’s none of your business. I didn’t come here to be interrogated.”
“Why did you come here, then?” Ash asked. “I know quality when I see it. That dress alone must have cost a small fortune. You didn’t come for money. And you don’t seem like you’re here for the thrill.”
At the moment my whole body did seem to be experiencing quite the thrill, but I pushed that aside. “I’m hardly likely to confide my motivations to a stranger. My reasons are my own. Now” – I got abruptly to my feet, invading his space and forcing him to lean back – “as I’ve explained that I wasn’t cheating, I assume our business here is concluded. I’d like to collect my winnings and be on my way.”
“You know,” Ash said ponderously, “this icy attitude of yours really gets my heart racing.” He reached forward and lightly touched my hand, sliding his fingers up towards my wrist. It was a delicate touch, light and unthreatening, but I felt as though sparks were about to start flying across my skin. He pulled me gently towards him, resting my palm on his chest so that I could feel his heart beating – hard and fast – beneath it.
“I-I—” I stammered, thrown. I was no stranger to flirtation, but it was clear that Ash was a master of the art. I could appreciate that, could enjoy the way my own heart beat in time with his. “You made me promise to keep my hands off you,” I reminded him, the words a trifle breathless.
He released my wrist with a smile. “So I did. Though, as I recall, we said nothing about my hands on you, did we, my lady?”
“I believe such an eventuality was covered under the demand that you behave like a gentleman,” I managed, and decided there was no harm in keeping my hand pressed against the firm planes of his chest. He was standing so close. He smelled delicious, spicy and masculine.
“But as I already told you,” he murmured, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, “ I am no gentleman.”
With a sigh, I tipped my head back, my eyes fluttering closed of their own accord. Lady Felicity Vane should definitely not allow a strange pirate to kiss her in the back office of a gambling den, but I didn’t feel like Lady Felicity Vane just at that moment. I felt free, and reckless with it. I had a feeling that kissing Ash would be an education, and I was nothing if not thorough in my studies.
His lips were a breath away from mine, his hands reaching up to cradle my head, fingers gentle as they tangled in my hair. I felt a sudden tug and, with a whisper of silk against silk, the ribbon holding my mask in place came loose.
I made a sound of surprise as the mask fell into his hands. I froze, blinking up at him, as his gaze moved hungrily across my face.
“There you are,” he said, his thumb and forefinger loosely gripping my chin.
Suddenly the door flew open. A slight boy came barrelling inside, Davey on his heels.
“Ash, you scoundrel! Stop that at once!” the boy cried, outraged. “Unhand her!”
I stared. Sighed. Took a step away from Ash.
“Izzy,” I said. “What are you doing here?”