Chapter 2 #2
Through a maze of stinking, ill-lit alleyways and streets he led her, never once making a wrong turn.
This lord who surely lived in Mayfair was too familiar with all the twists and turns of Southwark.
More so than her, which wasn’t saying much.
She hailed miles from these parts, just outside London.
Soon, they’d stopped before a building that had all manner of people flurrying in and out of its front door. “Here we are,” he said with a flourish.
“This isn’t a brothel, is it?” She’d assured Mama no brothels.
He laughed and shook his head. “Chaz’s is only a hell.”
“A hell?” That didn’t sound any better.
“A gaming hell,” he said, digging into the interior pocket of his coat. “You see, Miss Hart, what you need is a few tosses of the dice.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.” In fact, she was certain it wasn’t.
“And you’ll do it with this.”
He extended a small pouch and pressed it into her palm. The pouch jingled. “Is this coin?”
“As good as,” he said.
“Pardon?” In her world, nothing was as good as blunt. Only blunt was blunt.
“They’re markers, which you’ll use in place of actual money.”
“I cannot possibly accept this.” She tried to return the pouch.
He stepped back, hands up as if warding off plague. “You can, and you shall. Think of it as seed money.”
“Seed money?” It felt like real money to her.
“Whatever you win in Chaz’s, you can keep.”
That drew Valentina up short. “I can keep?”
He nodded.
“My winnings?”
He smiled.
“All of them?”
“You have my word.”
And therein lay the problem. “I haven’t the faintest idea what your word is worth.”
“As a gentleman.”
She almost snorted. “In my experience, it’s the gentlemen you need to keep the closest eye on.”
Recent, painful experience. Experience that had led her to the Five Graces, in fact.
“Not this gentleman.”
Irritatingly, inconceivably, she believed him. Likely because of those clear blue eyes that appeared as if they’d never told a lie.
Now the look in those eyes…
That was a different story.
That look was decidedly devilish.
A man of contradictions, this Lord Archer.
“Now, shall we?” He held out his arm for her.
She hesitated. If she took his arm, she was committing to this folly.
Then she tested the weight of the pouch.
What harm could there be in it? With these markers, she might be able to repair the damage that had been done tonight and recover her family’s savings altogether.
Then there would be no need for the other plan that had involved the Five Graces.
She took Lord Archer’s arm. She couldn’t help but test the solidity beneath her palm. Quite a few muscles lay beneath white superfine. Surprising, that. And he smelled… Delicious. Like spice cake. How could a man possibly smell so good?
They stepped inside Chaz’s gaming hell, and just before the raucous atmosphere swallowed them whole, Valentina’s gaze swept the room littered with all manner of tables, lively patrons trying their luck. “Which games require no skill?” she asked.
“Hazard.” Lord Archer indicated a table in a far corner. “And roulette.” He gestured toward a closer table.
Valentina liked the look of the spinning wheel. “Roulette,” she decided.
She approached the table and dug into the pouch, finding a marker. She plunked it onto crimson felt, even as she felt Lord Archer’s presence at her back. The croupier simply stared at her.
“Assign it a value,” Lord Archer said into her ear.
“Like?”
“Five guineas,” he said around her. “Now,” he continued, “you can place the markers anywhere you like. On numbers. On the corners of numbers. On red or black. On red and black, if you like even odds. I suggest sitting this one out and watching the other players. You’ll catch the gist of it.”
As these seemed like the first reasonable words to emerge from Lord Archer’s mouth all night, Valentina listened and watched and, indeed, caught on.
“Lucky number seven,” called out the croupier after the white marble had hopped wildly around the wheel, eventually nesting into the 7 slot. Groans sounded all around the table, save from the one person who had played red. No one had played 7.
Valentina slid a few markers toward 7.
“Are you certain?” asked Lord Archer. “That number just came up.”
“I don’t see any reason why it shouldn’t come up again,” she said. “Every spin is a new beginning.”
“I like your way of thinking, Miss Hart,” said Lord Archer.
Truly, he was unlike any man Valentina had met in all her twenty years. Of course, she wasn’t acquainted with many—or any—aristocrats. Perhaps they were all like him—just a little mad.
Bets were placed, and the croupier again spun the wheel and set the small white marble into motion, which whirred in the opposite direction of the wheel, eventually slowing as it bounced from one number to the next.
As patrons shouted for their numbers or colors to come up, Valentina stood, mouth pressed into a firm line, hands clutching the edge of the table.
While this was fun for everyone else in the room, it was serious business for her.
If she won, she would be that much closer to recovering Papa’s savings and clearing his mounting debts.
Her gaze fixed, the white marble skipped once…twice…then plopped into a slot. A roar rattled the rafters, and Valentina blinked, unable to believe her eyes.
7.
Impossibly, the marble had landed on 7. The croupier cleared the table of all but her markers, then slid a rather sizable pile her way.
“Well played,” came Lord Archer’s voice.
A shiver slipped through Valentina. She wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of victory.
Or his praise, spoken low and velvet in her ear.
Or something else… Something she couldn’t rightly identify.
She shook the thought away and accepted her winnings, her blood soaring with triumph and possibility. If she could do that—her mind did a quick calculation—ten more times, she would have Papa’s finances settled and forget the other scheme she’d had planned.
“Want to try your luck at hazard?” asked Lord Archer.
“Not a chance,” she said, determined.
She experienced a feeling she hadn’t felt in months. Hope.
Here at Chaz’s gaming hell, tonight, at this roulette table, she was going to fix what had gone so desperately wrong for her family.
She might have to allow that it would be thanks to Lord Archer.
She’d keep that last bit to herself.