Chapter Two #3
Rhys had half a mind to strangle Bessie right then, in front of everyone, but he made the mistake of glancing up at Louisa as she was helped up onto the table.
She turned around and looked about nervously before settling her eyes on Rhys.
Though she didn’t say anything, there was a fear in her half-covered expression, one that turned his stomach.
She was terrified. The other ladies, they were people of money and stature.
They knew what they meant to do when they came here to participate in a game at the Lyon’s Den, but Louisa had only come to return something.
She had no desire to marry or even if she did, she didn’t have the sort of wealth that these impoverished peers sought.
They would be furious to find that they married a poor woman with questionable family, considering the stolen brooch.
What was Bessie thinking?
One by one, gentlemen of various backgrounds sat at the hazard table.
Three men were known philanderers, and Rhys was certain that at least two of them kept mistresses.
The other two were a little more surprising: the Marquess of Carrington and Sir Issac Hardy, a naval officer who was renowned for his actions during the Battle of the Nile.
Rhys had never met the former, but had something of a friendship with Hardy, considering they had both served during the Napoleonic Wars.
Hardy, aware of Rhys’s condition, nodded at him, since the usual chatter had continued again, making it impossible to differentiate who was talking or even what they were saying.
Instead, he focused on Louisa, who was practically shaking with trepidation. Bloody hell, she was likely to faint before the game was done.
“Now that we’re all situated, let the games begin!” Bessie bellowed as the croupier handed Sir Hardy the dice.
Rhys knew the game well. There would be six rounds, so that each player at the table would be the caster. The caster would choose a number between five and nine and role. If they rolled at two or three on their first try, they would be out of the game.
Although he didn’t hear what number Hardy had said, the man smirked when two fours landed on the table.
Next, the Marquess of Carrington role. A six and two landed, signaling his exit.
The next man, a naturally thin man with short brown hair went next, rolling a six and a five.
Players four and five each rolled twos and threes on their first hand and left the table with audible sighs. Now, it was Rhys’s turn.
He took the dice from the croupier. He did not glance up, nor did he acknowledge anyone at the table. Rhys raised his hand and rolled the dice. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but he felt compelled to win this game, if only to save Louisa from whatever dastardly plan Bessie had in store for her.
The dice bounced off the side wall of the table and rolled to a one and a five.
“Round one is finished!” the croupier mouthed. “A break.”
Rhys leaned back in his chair and gazed across the hazard table at Hardy and the other man.
Hardy appeared relax as he chatted with a gentleman to his left, while the thin man seemed completely focused on Louisa’s shoes, which were barely visible beneath the velvet hem of her evening gown.
In fact, he was breathing heavily for someone sat at a table.
Rhys wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t particularly care for the man and when Louisa shifted her feet to become completely covered by her dress, he looked up.
Louisa appeared as frightened as a bunny caught in the mouth of a spaniel, but she had noticed the thin man’s infatuation with her feet and was quick to cover them. Just then, a member of the staff delivered a glass of scotch to Rhys.
“I didn’t order this—”
“Compliments of the house,” the man mouthed slowly as he set the drink in front of Rhys.
Glancing around the room, Rhys spotted Bessie, talking and touching the lapels of one of two strapping young men who seemed thrilled to be able to entertain a lady like Bessie. She seemed to notice Rhys at that moment and held up her glass of champagne, which only made him frown.
What was she playing at?
“Round two!” the croupier yelled, though Rhys barely heard it.
Hardy was handed the dice and with a wink to Rhys, he rolled.
“Two and four! I’m sorry sir, you’re out.”
Raising his hands and shrugging, Hardy pushed his chair back and stood while the thin man took the dice from the dealer and rolled.
“Five and four,” the croupier said as he gathered the dice with his long stick and handed them to Rhys.
Rhys rolled.
“Five and four again. Gentlemen, final round.”
The croupier’s hands were fast and though everyone was focused on the prize standing on the table, Rhys couldn’t help but focus on the dealer.
Before handing the dice over to each player, he would roll them back and forth in his own hand, before tapping them on the table twice.
Then, he’d hold them up so that everyone could see them.
It was a small ritual, one every good hazard dealer did to show the game was fair, but Rhys could have sworn there was a sleight of hand before he handed the new dice to the thin man.
The man rolled and two threes came up, causing the man to slam a fist on the edge of the table.
“Bloody rubbish.”
“Sir, the game is still open,” the croupier mouthed as he moved his hands across his waist, before handing them to Rhys.
Taking them, Rhys felt as though all eyes were on him, which was more than just uncomfortable. It set him on edge. Not being able to hear properly had come with a particular anxiety when more than one person looked at him, waiting for him to respond or react.
Rhys exhaled slowly before tossing the dice.
“Double fives! Lieutenant Carlyle has won.”
A muffled barrage of noise and congratulatory pats on the back surrounded Rhys as he stared at the dice. It was as if his mind was moving through molasses. He had barely played five rounds and yet, here he was, the winner of not only the game, but the prize.
A wife. And a poor one at that.
Among the unintelligible chatter around him, Rhys looked up to see Louisa, her mouth slightly open as if she too could not understand it.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant!” Bessie’s words vibrated against his left ear. She moved past him and held her hand out, addressing Louisa next. “Come, beautiful Citrine. Your soon-to-be husband awaits.”
A series of undistinguishable jeers and awws surrounded them as Citrine carefully took Bessie’s hand and began to climb down, off the table. The moment her feet hit the floor, Bessie placed Louisa’s hand in Rhys’s, and a spark bit the two of them, causing both to pull back.
“None of that now,” Bessie murmured as she brought the two hands back together as she turned to address the crowd. “May I present the decorated war hero, Lieutenant Rhys Carlyle and his fiancée, Miss Louisa May Babcock!”
The crowd cheered, with arms raised and clapping hands abound. But Rhys only glared at Bessie.
“Have you lost your mind?” he tried, but she was already waving them off.
“You’re free to go. Snug will show you to your room.”
“Bessie—”
“I’m sorry, I’ve to attend my guests,” she said, turning to Louisa. “My eternal thanks for returning my grandmother’s brooch. I hope the reward is worth the ruin.”
Though she still wore the black lace domino mask, Rhys noted Louisa’s cinched brow as they were practically pushed away from the gaming tables and all but forced to follow Snug, who was waving them towards him as he was already on the first step.
Neither Snug nor Louisa spoke as they climbed the stairs, for which Rhys was grateful. So much had happened in only an hour after Louisa had arrived at the Lyon’s Den and he wasn’t completely sure he wasn’t dreaming.
He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the hand he was holding. It was smaller than his of course, and cool, with small bumps on the inside of her palm. Callouses that no well-born lady would have and it made him curious. Who was she and why had she worked so much with her hands?
If any part of him was considering going through with this ridiculous plot, he might have taken her callouses as a good omen, but he simply refused to accept it. How had this happened?
They climbed the first set of stairs, then the next, before being led down a short hallway with several doors on either side. Snug stopped at the very end of the hallway, opened the door, and bowed.
“Good evening,” Snug mouthed as Rhys and Louisa entered the room.
Then, the door closed behind them.