Chapter Three #3
“I just wanted to thank you.” He looked as petulant as he sounded and Alicia knew he’d had far too much to drink to talk reasonably.
She realized Gormley had crossed the room, his massive body taut and coiled, his eyes locked on Charles.
She gave a slight shake of her head and he hesitated and frowned but stepped aside.
“Good night, Charles.”
She expected him to come after her and did not relax the set of her shoulders until she was again inside the carriage.
As they rumbled down Delmore’s poorly maintained driveway Alicia asked herself why she had come.
She ignored the answer her brain provided, but her willful eyes sought out her servant, catching glimpses of Gormley’s harsh features as shafts of moonlight flickered through the window.
***
At first Joss thought they might make the journey home in peace and quiet.
He’d seen she was distracted, if not exactly upset, by the appearance of her current lover.
Byerly had looked rough and ragged and he’d taken the money she’d offered like a man grasping at a lifeline. Joss rarely wagered, but he would place all the money he had on the odds of Byerly leaving Delmore’s house without a penny of Lady Selwood’s money left in his pocket.
Her voice interrupted his internal wagering.
“Was that your first journey to a gaming hell, Gormley?”
“No, my lady. Although I’ve never been to one in an aristocrat’s house.”
“Oh, where did you go?”
He hesitated.
“A brothel, perhaps?”
Joss blinked. Now, why would she have said that?
“I daresay there are not many differences between one hell and another,” she continued, apparently deciding to leave the subject of brothels alone. “But what did you think?”
“The stakes were considerably higher, my lady.”
“Oh, is that so?” She sounded genuinely surprised.
“Yes, my lady.” At any given time there had been at least a thousand pounds on that table. She’d played as if they were pennies. He estimated she had won at least two thousand in the course of the evening. And then she had given it all to that louse.
“You disapprove of me giving my winnings to Lord Byerly.” Her chuckle was velvety and mysterious in the near blackness of the carriage.
“I could see it in your face. You are, in general, a difficult man to read, Gormley. But you were as open as … a book when I put the money in his hand. Tell me, what were you thinking at that moment? I would like to know.”
Joss snorted softly.
“You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t think you would like what I was thinking, my lady.” He wanted to take the words back, but of course he couldn’t.
She leaned forward, until her face was only inches away. “You were angry—you are still angry.”
“Very well, my lady. You are correct, I am angry.”
She sat back, and he was again facing the darkness. “Why is that?”
Joss rolled his eyes.
“I saw that, Gormley.”
He gaped. “It’s dark in here, how—”
“I have the eyes of a cat.” He heard the smile in her voice. “But you were saying?”
Fine, she wanted his opinion, she could have it. “There must have been almost two thousand pounds in that roll.”
He heard the rustle of silk and knew she’d shrugged. “Closer to three. What of it?”
Could she really not understand? “That is a fortune and he will lose it. All of it—and most likely tonight.”
A sigh came out of the darkness. “Yes, I believe you are right. It is quite sad.”
“Sad?” he demanded before he could stop himself.
“What would you call it?”
“I would call it foolish to the point of criminal.”
They both knew he did not mean Byerly’s gambling, but her giving him the money. Joss knew he should shut his mouth, but the box had been opened and the contents could not be shoved back inside.
“That is more than a well-paid servant will make in a decade, my lady.”
The carriage was heavy with silence and Joss thought he had finally stepped over the line.
He expected to be scolded—at the very least—but, instead, she sighed. “You are correct of course. There were many other better uses for the money.” Her eyes glinted in the darkness. “Tell me, how would you spend three thousand pounds, Mr. Gormley?”
Joss looked away, unnerved now that he knew her vision was so keen. She could see him, but he could not see her. He did not like it. “I don’t know, my lady.”
She chuckled. “That was a lie. But you do not owe me such confidences. I will make you a promise, Gormley.” She paused. “Don’t you wish to know what it is?” she asked.
He couldn’t help smiling, even though he was still more than a little angry and frustrated.
She spoke before he could answer, “The next time I gamble I’ll give you my winnings. But only if you confide in me how you will spend it.”
“But what if you lose, my lady?”
She laughed. “I shouldn’t worry about that if I were you, Mr. Gormley.”
“Are you really that lucky, my lady?”
“No, I’m really that good.”
This time Joss kept his opinion to himself, not that it seemed to matter.
“I can hear your skepticism.”
It was his turn to chuckle. “Are you a mind-reader, my lady”
“I know men.” Her tone was no longer humorous. In fact, she sounded sad. Sad and tired and resigned. “I know them far, far too well.”
***