Jules met it and, with complaints and a few grimaces, the other two tossed their cards face down and backed away.
“I may be stupid but I’m not a fool.” Stone leaned back in his chair.
Jules tossed in his coins and all eyes shifted to Mr. Jackson. Would he call or raise the bet even higher? Jules eyed him quietly. He’d be quite happy to take even more of the American’s whiskey fortune.
“Shall we make this interesting?” the enigmatic gentleman asked with a slight lift of one of his tangerine eyebrows.
Jules maintained fixed, even breaths “How so?”
The room fell silent. “You win.” Jackson lifted his chin. “And I’ll give you half ownership in my Pennsylvania profits—this excludes the Tennessee plant, of course.”
Jules knew that Great American Whiskey produced more than twice the product of its most formidable competitor. Jackson’s primary distillery was located in Pennsylvania. The investments in Tennessee were in their early stages yet.
“And if you win?” Jules asked, wondering what on earth he could possibly have that this man wanted that could be nearly as valuable.
“Convince my daughter to marry you.”
Jules exhaled softly.
The man wanted a title for the chit. Jules ought to have known. He flicked his gaze around the room.
Chase shrugged. Mantis raised one brow. Greys flicked a glance at Blackheart and then another warning one back at Jules.
There was nothing spectacular about each card when analyzed by itself. They were quite common really. But assembled together, the pattern of red hearts emboldened Jules: a ten, jack, queen, king, and ace.
He couldn’t lose. The notion of having his cellars filled with endless bottles of the delightfully smoky amber liquor convinced him. Another part of his mind offered up the possibility of a handful of redheaded offspring running willy-nilly around the manor—an idea so preposterous that he nearly snorted.
“Agreed,” Jules declared.
Jackson’s eyes flared for a fraction of a second, showing more emotion than he’d shown all evening. Jules could almost feel sorry for taking such a valuable stake from the man.
With a nod, his opponent slowly lowered his hand to the table—face up.
Jules frowned initially. And then blinked as he comprehended exactly what he was seeing. A ten, jack, queen, king, and ace. Spades—all of them.
A combination of groans and expressions of astonishment rose around the room.
Impossible. What in Hades? But sure enough. Spades beat hearts which beat diamonds which beat clubs.
Jules had lost. Lost!
Lost?
Greys’ hand squeezing his shoulder pulled him back to the present. What had he just done?
The odds of two royal flushes being dealt in the same hand, let alone in one game, were hardly even feasible. Had the man cheated? He must have. As a gentleman, however, Jules could not call him out. Mr. Daniel Jackson was a guest in his home.
Chase met Jules’ gaze from the corner with a sympathetic shrug. A few hands landed heavily on his back and then Blackheart, Peter, Greys, and Mantis filed solemnly out of the room. Chase downed what remained of his drink and then shuffled out as well.
Stone was the last to go. To gloat? The blasted codpiece grinned, apparently finding humor in Jules’ predicament. “We’ll settle up tomorrow.” Hell and damnation. Jules had all but forgotten about his earlier debt.
The only luck he’d experienced on this particular day had been wretched. He ought to have realized this sooner.
“A moment of your time, my lord?” Mr. Jackson remained seated but was now lounging back in his chair, a cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth.
Jules met the man’s gaze and nodded. The hour was late, he’d been up since dawn, had had too much to drink, and wanted nothing more than to climb into his bed.
Unfortunately, he had something of a situation on his hands. Better to address it now. Perhaps he could negotiate the debt so that he could get a good night’s sleep after all.
