“What did you learn?”
“The importance of being wealthy,” she answered as she shuffled the cards again. “I was very naïve five years ago. I both looked forward to and dreaded my first time in London, even though I was not on the marriage mart like my sister and cousin. It was worse than I had anticipated.”
“How so?” Seth asked warily. From the moment that Frances picked up the cards, her posture grew erect, her brown eyes hardened but no other emotion was revealed. Even her tone was calm, steady.
“Were you aware that I had to remake the gowns once worn by my mother and aunts because my uncle could not afford a new wardrobe?”
He knew that the family struggled financially and the reason Frances never had a Season. She had not even come to London until she was nearing four and twenty. But he had not realized they had still been in such dire straits. “I did not.” Even if they had remained friends, Seth could not have assisted with her wardrobe. Such would have seen her ruined. A gentleman only purchased clothing for a sister, wife or his mistress and Frances was none of those.
He could have stood beside her and offered support if others attempted to shun her. Except, his reputation could have harmed her as well, or his may have improved. Instead, he had turned his back on Frances and she had been alone when she had faced the dragons of the ton.
“While my sisters, cousin and I do well in our needlework, we are not nearly as talented to be a proper seamstress and it was noted.”
She passed the cards to him. “You should shuffle as well.”
He picked them up, uncomfortable with this conversation, mainly because it filled him with guilt.
“My aunt offered some of her older gowns as well, and not so far out of fashion, so they were altered for my sister and cousin since they were the ones my uncle hoped would marry quickly.”
“Not you?” he asked.
“I was too close to the shelf already, or I assume those were his reasons for wanting Hope and Bryn to have a Season. He was also their guardian and their presentation would reflect poorly on him whereas I had reached my majority.”
“It still is not right,” Seth argued.
“Sometimes difficult decisions must be made when one is poor,” she answered. “Yet, despite the attempts of others to humiliate, I took pride in the fact that I had made do and held my chin high.”
Seth fought the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth in admiration. He had no doubt that outwardly Frances held her ground and likely stared down anyone who would criticize her.
Frances held out her hand and he placed the cards in her palm. She then took the top card, a two of clubs, which he committed to memory as she placed it at the bottom of the deck as the burnt card and set the cards aside.
“Place your bet.” As she was dealing first, only Seth would be betting, but she would still pay him if she lost as if she were the dealer for the gambling establishment. Then it would be his turn to deal. This was how the play had commenced on those rainy afternoons in the cottage. He would bring his collection of ha’pennies and divide them so they both had something to play with, but she never kept her winnings. Instead, they were kept in a jar at the cottage to be used for betting the next time.
When he left that final day, he never took his jar of coins and wondered if Frances had kept it.
Seth looked at his funds, and selected a sovereign then placed it in front of him. As he was not certain how this night may develop, he was not going to make any large bets, though she had the same amount of money in front of her.
Frances dealt a card face down to him and then herself. Then dealt Seth a second card face down and the same to herself. Then, before she could look at her cards, he turned his over to reveal a ten and an ace, or twenty-one.
She flipped hers, which were a six and a five, then paid him double his bet. Frances lifted the four used cards from the table and set them aside as Seth picked up the cards. She then placed her bet in front of her before Seth dealt the cards in the same manner that she had. After there were two in front of her, she looked.
“Are you content?” Seth asked.
She wanted to answer no, and she had not been since he had left her, but he was truly asking if she was happy with her cards—a nine and a six or fifteen.
“No.”
Seth dealt her third card, face up, which was an eight, giving her twenty-two. “I have overdrawn.” She then turned her cards over for him to see and slid her bet across to Seth. He then turned his over, which was a total of only fourteen, but there was no reason for him to draw a third to try for twenty-one because he had already won.
Play continued in the same manner. Frances took more risks than she normally would have, but she also hoped to lose.
After they had depleted the cards in the deck, Seth picked them up to shuffle again. It may have seemed like they had been sitting here for hours, but each hand did not take long, especially when the maths only required a person to count from one to twenty-one.
She glanced across the room. Bethany, Tessa, and His Grace were still seated and watching, but Frances made certain to speak in a quiet tone so that they could not hear what was being said.
“Did you know that my uncle Edmund was a confirmed bachelor, with no intention of ever marrying?”
“But he did when you were…ten and seven, did he not?”
