The croupier dealt the next hand. This time she was but one card away from a straight. How lucky.
She slid her nine of hearts facedown toward the croupier, who changed it for a different card. All she needed was a Jack of any suit to complete her straight. With bated breath, she lifted the new card. Nine of diamonds. The Curse of Scotland—Grose’s appellation for this particular card—wasn’t at all what she needed. Now what?
Unwilling to admit uncertainty, therefore weakness, she pushed more money into the pot.
“You’re raising?” Nick asked as he tossed enough coins into the pot to check her bet.
“Of course,” she replied, hoping her voice didn’t ring as hollow as it felt.
In the end, it was Yvette—or was it Lisette? Oh, who cared—who won the round. Of course, their response was to giggle and whisper and giggle some more. What a pair of bubble-brains. Mariana wouldn’t have minded taking the pair of strumpets by the shoulders and shaking some sense into them.
Instead, she turned in her chair and trained her gaze on Nick. “This ridiculous game is supposed to provide an instructive”—Her voice lowered to a murmur—“lesson?”
Eyes fastened onto his cards, Nick’s reply was a curt nod.
On the next hand, she went for the straight. Again. And she lost. Again.
Nick won. Yvette won. Lisette won. Mariana lost. She lost every hand, except for that first one, which was beginning to feel like a lifetime ago.
She glanced down at the freshly dealt cards now resting in her hands, and her heart accelerated. She held a flush, yet . . . she was so close to a royal flush. How every instinct called out to her to throw caution to the wind and trade the nine of spades for a chance at the ten. She resisted the call and stayed, all but assured of a victory if she sat tight. Her fingers constricted around her tumbler of whiskey. With each sip, it went down ever more smoothly.
Nick raised the stakes by tossing in a handful of coins, and the strumpets matched him. That pile of coins was exactly what Mariana needed to reestablish herself in the game, and this was just the hand that would take her there. She reached down to check their bets and found nothing but green felt, sleek and empty. She was penniless.
The room went airless, and her cheeks warmed. This was it. She was so close, and yet she was done. Her eyes refused to meet Nick’s. Would she fail at everything today?
To her right, Yvette and Lisette whispered into each other’s ears. The exchange was noteworthy because this time they didn’t giggle. Instead, matching impish grins lit up their faces as they spoke a few words to Nick in rapid French. His lips an unyielding line, he shook his head. Yvette and Lisette giggled and again pressed their point. Again, Nick shook his head, this time punctuating the gesture with a firm, “Non.”
“Nick?” Mariana asked, unable to keep her curiosity at bay a moment longer. “What are they saying?”
He swiveled in his chair and leveled his serious gaze upon her. “If you wish to stay in the game, Yvette and Lisette have a proposal.”
“Yes?” Mariana prompted. What could a pair of silly strumpets with air for brains have to propose to her?
“Since you have run out of funds, they suggest we wager articles of our clothing.”
“Our clothing?” Mariana asked in a stunned whisper. Her gaze shifted right and found the strumpets warily observing her, awaiting her reaction. They wondered if she had the nerve.
Well, they didn’t know her at all.
Chapter 8
Devil’s books: Cards.
A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue
Francis Grose
Fascinated, Nick watched a parade of emotion march across his wife's face. Shock . . . Perplexity . . . Disbelief . . . Those were the expected ones. When the disbelief evolved into thoughtfulness, however, he experienced a jolt of surprise. She was considering the proposition. Of course.
If Mariana had an Achilles’ heel, it was her inability to resist the call to adventure. It was this quality that had brought her to Paris. It was this quality that had brought her into this room. And it was this quality he’d sought to exploit by involving her in the assassination intrigue.
His plan for tonight had been to allow her to deplete her funds and then to supply her with more coinage before beginning theirspy lessonin earnest. It hadn’t been necessary to repeat Yvette and Lisette’s proposal.
Why had he deviated from the plan? He knew why. Because he couldn’t help himself. Because he’d partially undressed her last night, and the basest part of him would see the job done tonight, however cheaply. And because, given the opportunity, he would undermine himself time and time again when it came to her.
Thatwas why he’d arranged this lesson here of all places. Andthatwas why he’d repeated Yvette and Lisette’s proposition.
Her eyes fixed on the kitty in the middle of the table, Mariana nodded once in assent. Yvette and Lisette squealed in delight. “What’s the old saying? When in a whorehouse, do as the whores do?” Her legs swung right, toward Nick. “A little space, if you don’t mind?”
