CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
Izzy refused to be drawn further, but I was so tired that when I dragged myself upstairs and fell into bed, I dropped into a deep sleep that lasted several hours. These midnight excursions were certainly not conducive for a good night’s rest, and when I woke well into the afternoon it was with the nagging edge of a headache.
Izzy had disappeared out again, and so I did what I usually did when left home alone to my own devices: I shut myself in my study and I worked.
If there was a chance my skill with cards could help the Aviary, then I wanted to begin thinking about it right away. I laid the playing cards out on the desk in front of me, along with the trusty guide to card games that I’d acquired from the library, and began moving through the gameplay. Immediately, it was clear that the mathematics of draw poker was significantly more complex than in vingt-et-un, where I had only to worry about the cards the dealer had on show, as well as the cards in my own hand. Here, there were many more variables, many unknowns.
I bent my head to my notes, turning cards and working through calculations. When my stomach rumbled with hunger and I found a plate of biscuits balanced on a full tea tray beside my elbow, I realized, blinking as though coming awake from a dream, that Wheeler must have been here.
I nibbled on a ginger nut, and pressed the back of my hand to the side of the teapot, which was still warm. Pouring myself a cup and leaning back in my chair, I took a reviving sip of tea as my eyes travelled over the pages of scribbled notes in front of me.
“Are you getting anywhere?” A familiar, smoky voice broke the silence, and I started, my gaze flying to the armchair by the window. There, a figure lounged carelessly in the darkness that had fallen.
“Ash.” The name escaped my lips before I could catch it and I didn’t like how husky it sounded.
He sat half in shadow, barely more than a flash of white teeth, eyes gleaming like a cat’s.
“It’s a real pleasure watching you work, Lady Felicity Vane.”
I fought to remain calm, although his appearance was a surprise. Perhaps I was still asleep, tumbled into those strange, restless dreams of earlier, where he and I had been—
“How did you get in here?” I managed, cutting off that train of thought. Not that I was averse to engaging in a little flirtation. Whatever else Ash was, he certainly wasn’t boring.
He tipped his head towards the window, which was slightly open, a slanted line of silver light pouring in and carving along the strong lines of his profile.
“I came up the pear tree,” he said, and that, at least, made perfect sense – I’d used the entrance many times myself, as the pear tree in question was conveniently placed, and I’d slipped our gardener a generous bribe to quietly keep its broad branches clear.
“I tried the front door first,” Ash continued, “but your butler informed me in no uncertain terms that you were not at home to visitors.” Here his eyes widened, innocent. “I don’t think the man took a liking to me.”
I pressed my lips together, imagining Wheeler’s reaction to the rascally-looking figure in front of me. “So naturally you decided to break in to the house instead.”
“Naturally,” Ash agreed.
He stood up and walked towards the desk – though sauntered would be more accurate – emerging into the pool of light that surrounded me, a flickering gold cast by a brace of fat white candles. Yes, Wheeler had certainly been in, because I hadn’t lit them and by the looks of it they’d been burning for some time.
Reaching into his pocket, Ash produced a sheaf of paper bills, dropping them carelessly atop my notes. “Your winnings, my lady.”
I fanned the bills across the tabletop.
“Counting them, love?” His eyebrows arched. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Now why would I do a foolish thing like that?”
He leaned over the desk towards me and tugged on the end of my hair, which I’d carelessly bundled into a long braid.
“Your hair … is blue,” he said, apparently fascinated.
I pulled the braid from his fingers. “I must have dipped it in the ink pot again,” I said, rubbing ineffectually at the strands. The ends were a startling sapphire blue, and I knew from experience it would take days for it to fade, creating a challenge that Nancy would tsk disapprovingly over when she styled my hair. “What time is it?”
A smile pulled at his lips. “A few minutes after midnight.”
I blinked. “I’ve lost track of time again.”
“So I can see.” Ash peered down at my notes, then shook his head. “This is like another language.”
I nodded. “It’s one of the things I enjoy most about it. Like being let in on a secret way of understanding the world.”
“And…? Are you getting anywhere?”
“I think so.” I rubbed at my forehead where that annoying headache persisted. “It’s an interesting puzzle. I believe it is possible to gain a distinct advantage against one’s opponents, though to play even with improved odds would still be a gamble.” I gnawed on my lip, as Ash dragged a chair over to sit across from me.
“Can you explain some of this to me?” he asked, and once again I was struck by the sincerity of his interest. Such a small thing – the barest effort, but sadly enough of a novelty to be notable.
“The basics of it will be familiar to any player – they probably don’t think of it as mathematical, but it is,” I said, tapping the deck of cards. “There are fifty-two cards in a deck, and a hand consists of five cards. That means that if we use the binomial coefficient we can calculate that there are 2,598,960 possible combinations.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Ash eyed the neatly written equation that I’d pushed in front of him.
“The beginning is simple. There are four suits, each with thirteen cards, so your chance of being dealt a heart card, for example, is one in four,” I said, turning five cards over on the surface between us. “In this hand I’ve been dealt the two of hearts and the seven of hearts. That means that there are now eleven heart cards left in a deck of forty-seven, so the likelihood of me drawing another heart if I were to trade one of my other cards has reduced from 25 per cent to 23.4 per cent.”
Ash nodded. “But that only follows if you’re the only one drawing from the pack. Other players may hold any number of heart cards.”
“Exactly,” I agreed, pleased that he was so quick. “So it becomes about the probabilities of several things – the cards I am dealt, the odds that another player can beat the hand I currently hold, the likelihood of improving my hand were I to discard and draw, for example.”
“Hmmm.” Ash examined the cards. “I see what you mean. These are the same things I’d think about when playing, but I wouldn’t go so far as to calculate percentages.”
“That’s because it’s a complex problem,” I agreed. “It involves holding a lot of numbers in your mind. As the gameplay progresses, one could include statistics on the hands your opponents play and discard which could, in turn, alter the potential in your own hand. Really, it’s fascinating.”
“So let’s play.” Ash sat back in his chair with that crooked grin on his face.
“Are you any good?” I asked.
“I can hold my own.”
“Fine,” I said, eager to put my theory into practice. “You deal.”
Ash scooped up the cards and shuffled them deftly, setting the cards moving in a competent blur. The look he gave me then was smug. I tore up pieces of paper to work in place of coins for the betting, dividing them between us.
We settled into the game, and I watched as Ash exchanged two of his cards.
“You know,” he said easily, “poker is about more than mathematics. More than theory.”
“What do you mean?” I exchanged one of my cards and after some thought threw one of my paper tokens into the pot.
“It’s about reading your opponents, the art of the good bluff…” He threw his own token carelessly into the mix.
“You mean it’s the perfect excuse for you to stare at me,” I said, raising my next bet as I felt his gaze on my face. His interest in me was obvious, and I couldn’t deny I found it intriguing.
“I meant, it’s the perfect excuse for you to stare at me ,” Ash countered, matching my bet and throwing his cards down with a flourish. “Flush.”
“Two pair,” I said, laying my own hand down. “You win.”
“I usually do,” Ash said, scooping up the tokens and adding them to his pile.
“You’ve played a lot of draw poker?” I asked as he dealt the hands again.
“Picked it up in America – it was all the rage over there, but it’s getting more and more popular here these days. We have more people playing poker than Brag at the club now.”
“When were you in America?” I asked, envy creeping into my voice as I drew three cards.
“When I was in Her Majesty’s navy,” Ash said. “And you want to be careful of that.” Reaching over, he touched his finger gently to the corner of my mouth.
My mind emptied, as the world shrank down to the brush of his fingertip against my lips. My breath caught, our eyes met for a long beat.
“What?” I asked, my voice only slightly hoarse as he drew his hand back, a pink flush high on his cheeks.
“You smiled when you saw your cards. It’s called a tell. Now I know you have a good hand,” he said, and I thought he looked flustered. I was glad I wasn’t the only one affected by whatever sparked between us. The pull that I felt towards him was more than simply physical. I was enjoying him, enjoying his company, I realized.
“Or perhaps that’s what I wanted you to think,” I managed, gathering my wits. Still, I folded my hand and any uncertainty vanished from Ash’s face, replaced by the now-familiar smirk.
“Again,” I demanded, tapping the desk with my knuckles, and he complied, shuffling the cards once more. I tried not to think about how squirmingly enjoyable it was watching him, the cards flying from hand to hand with deft fingers.
“You were in the navy?” I asked.
“I was. For five years.”
“Five years?” I repeated, startled. “You must have only been a boy when you joined.”
“I was thirteen. So, yes, I was a boy. It was the best decision I ever made.”
He sounded sad.
“If you liked it so much, why did you leave?” I shoved my remaining paper tokens towards him.
He threw his own tokens in and sat back. “I didn’t have much of a choice at the time.” His mouth thinned, and I wondered how this fitted into what I knew about his secret life as the son of a gentleman. “But it worked out fine in the end. I met Joe and we opened the Penny together, and now here I am, a reputable businessman.”
“Reputable,” I scoffed. “Breaking into a young lady’s rooms in the dead of night to play her at cards.”
“To beat her at cards,” Ash said, laying down his hand. “Straight.”
“Not this time,” I crowed, delighted. “Four of a kind.”
“Huh.” Ash looked nonplussed as he rubbed a hand across his jaw. “You certainly didn’t give that away.”
“I know,” I said. “But the odds of you beating me with a straight flush were 72,192.33 to one so I was feeling reasonably confident about it.”
I looked up from where I was busy gathering up all the paper tokens to find him watching me with an inscrutable expression.
“Next time,” he said. “I won’t make it so easy.”
“Next time it won’t matter.” I sent him a slow, simmering smile, enjoying the way his cheeks took on that hint of pink again. However good he was, it seemed Ash had a tell of his own. “I’m a fast learner.”
“I’m starting to see that, princess.” He pushed away from the desk, but then leaned over so that his mouth hovered only a breath away from mine. “I know a gambler when I see one.”
“I’m not a gambler,” I said primly. “I’m a mathematician.”
He was still laughing as he climbed out of the window.