Gwendolyn frowned, and then thought of having another chance. “What is this favor?”
He put his hands in his coat pockets and shook his head. “I don’t know—yet. It is only an idea. Perhaps I will not need your help at all. But when andifI ask, I expect you to say yes.”
This was not something she should agree to, and yet she and her sisters had wagered everything on her success this night. “How much money are you offering?”
He pulled a leather bag from the deep pockets of his coat. “Fifty pounds more or less?” He shrugged as if such a large sum was nothing to him.
Then again, he was a gambler. They were having this discussion in a gaming house. One thing her father had taught her was that men who gambled had very little respect for money. What was lost today could be earned back tomorrow.
And if her father was in her shoes?
He’d take the money and keep playing. Because the other option would be to return to Wicklow.
She glanced over to the table. The Weasel was going about his business, but he had his eye on her. He winked and nodded to her still-empty chair. Several men who were not playing watched her hungrily. They thought she was fair game.
“You can stop him from cheating?” she asked.
“Of course.”
Gwendolyn faced him. She’d become accustomed to his extraordinary looks. He no longer dazzled her eyes. Instead, she noticed the rough edges. Life was more complicated for him than he wished the world to know.
“If I don’t win,” she said, more to herself than to him, “I shouldn’t owe you a favor.”
“You’ll win. Your pride won’t let you fail a second time.” Then he lowered his voice. “Furthermore, I will be beside you.”
“And you are?”
“Steele,” he answered, with a slight courtly bow. “Beckett Steele.”
The name meant nothing to her, although it fit him.
“And you are?” he asked in return.
“Mrs.Bunsaway,”the Weasel hollered from across the room. “Come play.” Snickering followed his words.
She wanted to destroy every man at that table who laughed at her. She straightened her backwith resolve and replied, “You heard him. I’m Mrs. Bunsaway.” This time she didn’t cringe about the name. It was her protection. “And I am ready to give the Weasel a lesson he won’t forget. We have a bargain, Mr. Steele.” She held out her hand to shake.
The hint of a smile softened his lips as he shook her hand, her gloveless hand, and then he placed the purse in it. The soft leather molded to her palm.
This was so much money.
He offered his arm. “Are you ready to reclaim your seat at the table as the Weasel suggests?”
Her answer was to place her hand in the crook of his elbow.
Chapter Three
It is never acceptable for a genteel woman to owe money to a stranger.
The Rules (according to Dara)
A woman must do what she must to survive.
Tweedie’s addendum
Her father had always claimed Gwendolyn had a talent for cards, and she’d believed him.
“However, you are different from me,” he had assured her. “You are lucky, but you also have an uncanny sense of which card will be played. That knowing is a gift.”
