Elyse immediately learned two things. The first was that she had to pay quick attention to the rapid exchange of cards as the hands were dealt, and the second was that she'd worried needlessly that Jerrold might recognize her. There was far more danger with this man who played cards as if he were out for blood.
She'd dreamed up this mad scheme to expose St. James for what he was—an impostor. But over the course of four hands of Battle, she felt as if the tables had been turned. And now she was uncertain whether her suspicions were correct.
He laid out the cards of yet another winning hand. "I believe that is my game once more. Shall we try something else? Our host seems to have found other diversions."
It was over an hour since Jerrold had disappeared, saying that he must see to the evening's entertainment. She then caught sight of Lucy who stood at a discreet distance from Andrew.
Playing her role of young gentleman to perfection, Elyse sipped at the brandy placed beside her a few moments ago.
"Is there something wrong with the brandy?" he asked.
Elyse glanced up. "Not at all."
A faint smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. He'd accepted this invitation so he might get to know Barrington better. But the evening offered surprising twists and turns. Reaching across the table, he pushed the full tumbler of brandy toward his young companion.
"Then, drink up, my friend. The evening is still young. And our host would be displeased if he thought you weren't enjoying yourself."
Elyse's startled glance met his briefly, then fastened on the tumbler. She took a deep breath knowing she had no other choice but to drink. Bracing herself, she quickly downed the amber-colored liquid as she'd seen the other gentlemen doing all evening.
The brandy burned in her stomach and back up again. If she breathed, Elyse was certain flames would leap out of her mouth. Her eyes watered. She tried to swallow. She tried to breathe and was seized by a fit of coughing.
St. James was beside her in an instant, thumping her on the back until she thought she was being pounded to death. She clasped a gloved hand over her mouth as she tried to draw another breath. When she pulled her hand away, her eyes widened in horror. There, in the middle of the table, was the immaculately groomed mustache that she had taken pains to apply. It lay on the rich velvet like a giant raised eyebrow.
She reached across the table and grabbed it, bending over as if still seized by that fit of coughing, she pressed the mustache back into place and prayed it would stick.
Across the room, the other gentlemen seemed oblivious to her. They rose, one by one from their chairs and gathered at the far end of the large room.
Elyse rose from her chair as she composed herself. "What is all the excitement about?"
St. James turned to her. "It seems... " He stopped midsentence and looked at her, an odd expression at his face. Then it was his turn. The coughing seemingly contagious. However, he quickly recovered.
"It seems the entertainment is about to begin. I've met these people before. I think you'll find this most unusual." With a slight bow, he motioned for her to follow him across the room.
Smiling uncertainly, Elyse looked across the room for Lucy, but her friend seemed to have disappeared as music unlike any she'd heard before filled the room. The buzz of expectant conversation around them quieted and all eyes were focused on the source of the music. Pushed forward by others equally eager to see the entertainment, Elyse was helpless to do anything but move with them.
Her eyes widened in stunned surprise. Under the glow of light from an overhead chandelier, a young woman whirled and danced. But it wasn't the music that held Elyse fascinated, or even the woman's movements. It was the scanty costume adorning the dancer's, voluptuous body. She wore nothing more than several transparent silk scarves that whirled in the air with each undulating movement, threatening to expose her naked body underneath.
Amusement darkened St. James' gray gaze as he watched the brilliant display. But he was more fascinated by the'young man'beside him. Fatima of the Thousand Veils did promise exotic and tantalizing pleasures. She claimed to be from a Bedouin chieftain's harem, but she was in fact a Gypsy. He'd seen her perform before in Lisbon.
He leaned over his young companion's shoulder. "Rather interesting muscle control, wouldn't you say? I've heard it said she can hold that gem in her navel indefinitely."
Elyse's gaze remained fixed on Fatima, wondering just how the woman moved her body like that. So this was how Jerrold managed to entertain himself when he came to White's! Card games indeed!
A half-dozen other dancers joined the woman. They whirled and gyrated around the room in frenzied abandon. Their lithe bodies soon glistened with a fine sheen that only seemed to heighten the men's appreciation. The decorum of distinguished gentlemen was gone, replaced by loud calls of encouragement and some rather vague comments that Elyse thought she was probably better off not understanding.
At that moment, as the woman whirled around right under her nose, the gentleman to Elyse's left decided to add his own interpretation to the dancing. He joined the silk-clad girls. One by one, the girls continued their rhythmic flight about the room. With each full circle, every dancer selected one scarf from the myriad assortment attached to the waistband that circled low over her hips and tossed it out into the gathering. The dance continued, more and more silk tossed into the crowd of men who gathered, each one of them catching one and smiling as if they'd just won some grand prize.
The music abruptly ended, and the performers posed before the leering men. Only two scarves remained about each performer. One dangled between the legs, the other from the back of the waistband. Absolutely nothing covered the women's breasts. They stood in a circle of gleaming flesh.
"My God!" she exclaimed, fascinated by the performance and the unabashed sensuality of the young women.
Zach waited expectantly. "I told you Fatima possessed captivating talents." His mouth twitched with suppressed amusement that was quickly masked behind a bland expression.
"She most certainly does!" Elyse declared, in her own voice. Realizing the mistake she'd just made, she excused herself. "I really must find my friend. It's quite late, must be leaving."
"Leaving so soon?" St. James looked disappointed. "The evening is just beginning."
He seized his companion's arm and quickly steered 'him'through the circle of gentlemen who mingled with the dancers.
