“Perhaps if this player was first. But by now, two players have held already. One of them must have twenty, if not twenty-one. He might as well ask for a card.” Arthur tossed the card across the table face-up. It was a two.
“He will hold,” Patience said.
“He will hold,” Arthur agreed.
The next two players took cards until their totals were too high. Among the discarded cards were a number of court cards.
“What do you see?” Arthur invited.
“Only one ace known to all,” Patience said. “Three players holding, which means at least one must have twenty, as you said. And I know the location of a second ace.”
He indicated the cards before himself. “And here is the moment I see whether the cards favor me tonight. If so, this will be twenty-one.” He turned over the cards received by the dealer. He winced at the two fives. “At least Dame Fortune is consistent,” he murmured.
“Of course, you will take a card,” Patience said.
“It can only bring me closer. Though in practice, I would not know the contents of your hand or that of the other player who held, there are still many court cards in play. I could easily reach twenty and that might be sufficient.”
“What about the aces?”
“I would consider that either you or the other player who was holding might have one. That you both kept your original cards might indicate that one of you already has twenty-one.”
“Two aces assumed to be gone and twenty-one cards played.”
“That’s not half the deck.”
He tapped the top of the deck with a fingertip. “What do you think it is?”
“A court card or a ten,” Patience said.
Arthur nodded. “If the cards were coming to me. I would hope for an ace.” He turned over the card. It was an eight.
“Eighteen,” Patience said. “You would take another card.”
“I would, though it seems Dame Fortune taunts me. The proof will lie in this card.”
“You would stake so much upon it.”
“There are times when the cards flow, each one appearing for you as if summoned. And there are times when the cards declined to show favor. On those occasions, only fools continue to play, hoping for a change. If the die is cast, it is best to walk away.” He tapped the top card. “Will it be a two, a three or a four?”
“If you are lucky.”
“And on this night, I have not been. It will be a larger card.” Arthur turned it over a five.
Too much.
He picked up his cards and cast them face up into the middle of the table. “And now we have another round of wagers, from those who remain in the game. Then everyone turns over their cards. Anyone who has less than the dealer will pay his stake. Those who have the same score as the dealer do not pay.” He tapped her cards. “But you have twenty-one, and you have it naturally—which means it was dealt to you—and the dealer has folded, so you have won the game.”
Patience considered the cards upon the table. “I can see why people are seduced. It seems so simple.”
“But one must heed the cards and the message they send.” Arthur tapped the eight. “If I were lucky this night, this would be an ace.”
Patience understood. “That is why you are home so early.”
He nodded agreement, gathering up the cards and putting them away.
She could see that he was discontent and wished she could reassure him. She did not like that he gambled, even though he was good at it and seemed to be prudent. “Will you always play?” she asked, fearing the answer.
He turned to study her, his expression inscrutable. “I must contribute something to our shared future,” he said. His tone was light, but Patience knew his mood was not. “If I assisted you in the choice of new dresses each and every day, you would soon be overwhelmed by garments.”
