Luke narrowed his eyes. Something was afoot. “What were you studying tonight?”
“How to determine the menu for dinner. Rather boring actually.” Frannie pulled up a chair and sat between Jack and Catherine, slightly behind Catherine. “But I shall gladly watch. Perhaps I’ll learn something.”
“You’re going to learn how to lose two hundred pounds, right fast,” Jim said.
Frannie did little more than offer him a mischievous smile.
Luke gathered up the cards and began to shuffle. “I’ll deal. Minimum bet is five pounds, maximum is twenty-five.”
He watched as Jack slid the chips over to Catherine. “Each of these is worth five. And the first thing we do is ante up.” He tossed a chip into the center of the table. Catherine followed suit. Everyone else tossed in his ante.
“The game is five-card brag,” Luke said. “The rules are these: Never show your cards to anyone—not even to Frannie. Never say anything about your hand. Andnever fold out of turn.”
“Oh, I shan’t fold at all. I’ll have no chance of winning if I fold.” She leaned toward the table, peered around, and whispered. “My brother always gave up so easily. The other gents took his money. I don’t think he understood the strategy.”
Luke met Jack’s gaze and knew he was thinking the same thing: it was going to be like pilfering the pockets of an old man. Far, far too easy.
She picked up her cards and studied them. Her brow furrowed. She scowled. Then she set them in her lap.
“You must keep them on the table,” Luke told her.
Laughing, she set the cards on the table. “Oh, you think I’m cheating?”
“No, but it’s the rules.”
She nodded. “Very well. I bet first?”
Luke nodded.
Gnawing her lip, she looked at each set of cards—even though she could only see the back of them. “I’ll wager five.” She tossed her chip into the center.
“Ten,” Jack said.
“Oh, Jack,” Frannie scolded, slapping his arm. “Don’t take all her money the first round.”
“Come on, Frannie, it’s always more fun when there’s more at risk.”
“I’m probably going to regret this,” Bill said, “but I fold.”
“I’ll match the bet,” Jim said, and tossed in his ten chips.
“Shouldn’t it be fifteen?” Catherine asked.
“No, you only match the last bet made.” Luke matched the ten. “Now you match the ten.”
“Or I can wager more?”
“You can, but—”
“I’ll wager twenty.”
“Twenty-five,” Jack said.
Catherine looked at him and smiled. “You must have a jolly good hand.”
Jack grinned. Luke knew that grin. The blighter had nothing.
Jim shook his head, tossed down his cards. “Fold.”
