“Not this gentleman.”
Irritatingly, inconceivably, she believed him. Likely because of those clear blue eyes that appeared as if they’d never told a lie.
Now the look in those eyes…
That was a different story.
That look was decidedly devilish.
A man of contradictions, this Lord Archer.
“Now, shall we?” He held out his arm for her.
She hesitated. If she took his arm, she was committing to this folly. Then she tested the weight of the pouch. What harm could there be in it? With these markers, she might be able to repair the damage that had been done tonight and recover her family’s savings altogether. Then there would be no need for the other plan that had involvedthe Five Graces.
She took Lord Archer’s arm. She couldn’t help but test the solidity beneath her palm. Quite a few muscles lay beneath white superfine. Surprising, that. And he smelled…Delicious.Like spice cake. How could a man possibly smell so good?
They stepped inside Chaz’s gaming hell, and just before the raucous atmosphere swallowed them whole, Valentina’s gaze swept the room littered with all manner of tables, lively patrons trying their luck. “Which games require no skill?” she asked.
“Hazard.” Lord Archer indicated a table in a far corner. “And roulette.” He gestured toward a closer table.
Valentina liked the look of the spinning wheel. “Roulette,” she decided.
She approached the table and dug into the pouch, finding a marker. She plunked it onto crimson felt, even as she felt Lord Archer’s presence at her back. The croupier simply stared at her.
“Assign it a value,” Lord Archer said into her ear.
“Like?”
“Five guineas,” he said around her. “Now,” he continued, “you can place the markers anywhere you like. On numbers. On the corners of numbers. On red or black. On redandblack, if you like even odds. I suggest sitting this one out and watching the other players. You’ll catch the gist of it.”
As these seemed like the first reasonable words to emerge from Lord Archer’s mouth all night, Valentina listened and watched and, indeed, caught on.
“Lucky number seven,” called out the croupier after the white marble had hopped wildly around the wheel, eventually nesting into the 7 slot. Groans sounded all around the table, save from the one person who had played red. No one had played 7.
Valentina slid a few markers toward 7.
“Are you certain?” asked Lord Archer. “That number just came up.”
“I don’t see any reason why it shouldn’t come up again,” she said. “Every spin is a new beginning.”
“I like your way of thinking, Miss Hart,” said Lord Archer.
Truly, he was unlike any man Valentina had met in all her twenty years. Of course, she wasn’t acquainted with many—or any—aristocrats. Perhaps they were all like him—just a little mad.
Bets were placed, and the croupier again spun the wheel and set the small white marble into motion, which whirred in the opposite direction of the wheel, eventually slowing as it bounced from one number to the next. As patrons shouted for their numbers or colors to come up, Valentina stood, mouth pressed into a firm line, hands clutching the edge of the table. While this was fun for everyone else in the room, it was serious business for her.
If she won, she would be that much closer to recovering Papa’s savings and clearing his mounting debts.
Her gaze fixed, the white marble skipped once…twice…then plopped into a slot. A roar rattled the rafters, and Valentina blinked, unable to believe her eyes.
7.
Impossibly, the marble had landed on 7. The croupier cleared the table of all but her markers, then slid a rather sizable pile her way.
“Well played,” came Lord Archer’s voice.
A shiver slipped through Valentina. She wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of victory.
