Chapter Ten
Lycos’s expression was shuttered. His adrenaline levels were slightly raised, but not from excitement.
The very reverse. He knew exactly what mental state he was entering as he walked with Arielle at his side into the grand townhouse, windows lit up for the party already underway, in an elegant terrace off the Place de l’étoile in a wealthy Right Bank arrondissement.
Did he regret accepting the invitation for tonight? Arielle had been wary about just what was involved. But she’d agreed, all the same, and Lycos got the impression she was curious about this side of his life. The one that was so familiar to him.
It’s the life I’ve been leading with Arielle that is unfamiliar to me.
Peaceful days at the mas, one following another in bucolic ease. And the days here in Paris sightseeing, visiting art galleries and museums, going to classical music concerts and the opera—Arielle was expanding his own experiences.
Tonight, it was his turn to show her his world.
Thoughts flickered as he made his way forward, greeting those he knew. Paul Ronsard would not be here this evening as he was in London on business. Lycos was glad, for Arielle’s sake. That exchange over the horse had obviously upset her.
But the guests here tonight, even if not known personally to him, were all of a similar kind. Drawn together for one reason only—to gamble. It was the world he knew and had made his own.
But is it still?
He’d told Arielle that gambling was no longer the way he made his money.
That he continued with it only to keep his skills honed.
And that was why he was here tonight. Arielle, at his side, was looking stunning again in a couture gown, her throat adorned with a diamond necklace.
Tonight, she would witness the way in which he had come to be able to afford to buy such lavish gifts for her.
He moved on through the gathering guests, guiding Arielle forward at his side.
Arielle smiled politely and took a canape.
She was making minimal contribution to whatever conversation was taking place.
Some of the people in their group were familiar from that race day she hadn’t enjoyed and all were of the same type.
Opulent, self-congratulatory, over-pleased with themselves, men and women both. The latter visibly on display.
Does Lycos really like these people?
She couldn’t tell. His expression was shuttered and there was a detachment about him that gave him an air of reserve. She realised he’d stopped meeting her eyes, seemed to have withdrawn into himself. Nor was he drinking alcohol, she noticed. Only bottled water, sparkling and flavourless.
He’s keeping his mind clear. Sharp. He can risk no impairment of mental function.
She felt a knot of tension tighten within her. Soon, she supposed, the gaming would begin. For Lycos’s sake she would endure it.
It’s important to him. Gambling is not casual self-indulgence to him.
It’s his skill, his ability, his achievement.
It was the ladder that took him out of poverty.
Out of that sad, unhappy childhood. That let him make something of his life.
That has given him the means to live life as wealth makes possible.
And who was she to be hypocritical about wealth?
Had Naomi not married her father she herself would be wealthy, not just scraping by on the modest sum he’d made over to her as a student.
Oh, she’d have been nowhere near Lycos’s league, but she’d have had enough to allow her to do what she liked with her life.
Not to have to work to earn a living, but be able to look after her beloved mas.
To follow her music and have a pleasant, financially carefree life.
Her father had made his money through shrewd property investment.
Lycos had made his through his skill at cards.
He won from those who, like all those here tonight, could easily afford to lose.
If they pitted their wits against the Wolf and came off the worse for it, so what?
She felt a faint touch on her bare arm.
‘Arielle?’ Lycos was addressing her. His voice was polite, his tone detached.
She realised he was making a move and so were others. Docilely she went with him. Lycos had already told her on the way here that she was welcome in the card room, but must remain quiet, standing away from the tables.
‘I have to remain entirely focussed. There will be breaks from time to time, but during play there must be no distractions. You will have to leave me entirely alone. Do you understand?’
She’d nodded. She had no intention of getting involved in the slightest.
He’s welcome to fleece anyone here! I couldn’t care less!
Would he do so tonight? It seemed likely, according to his reputation. He was, after all, the Wolf and those who played against him did so of their own choice.
At their own risk.
Just as I am with him at my own risk.
The thought was in her head before she could stop it.
But what was it she was risking? And what might she lose?
She headed upstairs, Lycos at her side, unwilling to answer either question.
Lycos sat at the table he’d selected. The world had disappeared.
All that existed were the cards displayed in his hand and the calculations running through his head.
He paid little attention to the other players.
Only to what cards they played, what money they staked and when.
He was entirely focussed on the progress of the game.
His mind was in a flow state, everything else obliterated from consciousness except that necessary to move the state of play to where he wanted it to go.
Adapting his decisions to what each new card, his or his opponents’, denoted.
Emotion, of any kind, was entirely absent. His play was remorseless. His face expressionless.
The Wolf was here to win.
Arielle suppressed an inner sigh. She could make no sense of what was happening.
At first, she’d been warily curious to see what was involved, but it had not taken long to realise that a game in which she had no idea what the rules of play were would be impossible to follow.
Watching the players push their chips forward was unnerving, given their cash value, but she had no idea why they were making the stakes they were making.
She certainly had no idea at all what Lycos was doing, or why.
She could tell nothing about him whatsoever.
His expression was entirely blank. Nothing showed in his face, eyes or body language.
Players had ‘tells’, so watching the occasional movie featuring gambling had told her, but that didn’t seem to apply to Lycos.
It’s like watching a robot.
He showed nothing, whether the pile of chips that were his rose or fell.
That wasn’t so with all of the players though.
Some players, at the end of a game, showed satisfaction or chagrin.
When a game ended, they remarked to each other and discussed what had happened.
Lycos kept silent. No one tried to talk to him or engage him.
Until the next game started, he simply took a used pack of cards and shuffled it mechanically to occupy his hands.
His face remained expressionless, his eyes blank, while he took an occasional sip of water from the glass in front of him.
She did not try and engage him either. He made no move to turn to her, talk to her, or even to acknowledge her existence.
She found it chilling.
On impulse, she slipped from the room. The atmosphere in there was oppressive. Everyone there simply wanted to make money. To win, to triumph, to beat their opponents, to outdo them. Including, presumably, Lycos.
It was a side of him she’d never seen and she found it unnerving.
Out on the landing she hesitated for a moment, then scooped up the long skirt of her gown and made her way up the next set of stairs. The bathrooms set aside for guests were up here, so she recalled someone mentioning. Maybe she could lurk up there until Lycos called it quits.
When would he, she wondered?
If I really get bored and I can’t stand it, I’ll head back to the hotel in a taxi and just text him to let him know that I’ve gone.
She doubted he would notice or even realise she wasn’t in the card room any longer.
A door standing ajar on the deserted upper floor indicated that it was a bathroom and she approached it. As she did, she heard a voice speaking and paused. It was coming from the bathroom. She didn’t want to eavesdrop, but had no choice.
‘I know and I don’t want to do it! I know how risky it is! But I’m going to, all the same. I’ve got to try! It’s all I can think of. It’s our only chance.’
She could half see the speaker, his body in profile, holding a mobile phone to his ear. He fell silent a moment, then spoke again, sounding impatient. Stressed.
‘There’s no point saying that! I know what I’m doing. Look, I have to go.’
She saw him disconnect the call and then stride out of the bathroom.
His expression was steely and tension radiated from him.
As he saw Arielle he halted abruptly. He was a young man, in his early twenties she judged.
He was good-looking and his French, she realised, had been distinctly upper-class.
‘Excuse me,’ he said, sounding curt as he skirted around her to head downstairs with a rapid gait.
She thought no more about it as she headed into the plush bathroom.
Deliberately she dallied in there, retouching her lipstick, re-spritzing her perfume and then availing herself of a basket of necessities on the vanity unit.
She searched through a tiny sewing kit to extract a couple of safety pins.
She hoicked up her decolletage, which she fancied was too low, and fastened it discreetly. Eventually she could delay no longer.
Would Lycos still be immersed in his card game?
Probably.