Grumbling, Hollingsworth swiped his fingers through his bright red hair that in spots had turned to white. “Indeed, it’s most fortunate I know you.”
The other men at the table relaxed, but Tristan couldn’t let the subject rest. He took another swig of his port before adding, “And it’s a good thing you are into your cups a little heavy tonight, or I just might feel the need to call you out.”
A few men gasped, but Tristan only heard the person sitting on his right. Slowly, he turned his gaze to Trey. The wide blue eyes of his brother were dark with anger, and silently he issued a warning. Trey had always been like that—thinking he needed to protect Tristan against men who were very much like the youngest Worthington brother. Tristan gave Trey a nonchalant shrug and returned his attention to Hollingsworth whose face was flushed.
“Shall we continue playing?” Tristan asked.
The others around the table chimed in with a positive response. Throughout the game, Hollingsworth continued to throw visual daggers toward Tristan, which he did his best to ignore. The fop had always been a bad sport while playing cards, and if Tristan didn’t enjoy taking the lord’s money so much, he would refuse to play with him most of the time.
Finally, Hollingsworth bowed out, gathered up the little winnings he had kept, and stormed out of the room. The other gents followed suit. Tristan stood, and so did his brother.
Trey reached his arms above his head as if he were stretching out kinks. “Well, Brother. I believe I shall retire as well.” He clapped his hand on Tristan’s shoulder. “But I’m happy to see you have won big this evening, and once again, brought with your company a bit of entertainment.”
“Entertainment?” Tristan arched an eyebrow.
“Yes. You enjoy making the other gentlemen at the table nervous, including your own brother.”
Scooping up his winnings, Tristan chuckled. “Well, someone has to liven up the game.” He nodded to his brother, and hurried out to try and find Hollingsworth. He’d give the man every last thing he earned tonight if it meant winning Diana’s hand. As he made his way down the steps of the building, a dark shadow against the building pulled his attention.
“Lord Tristan,” Hollingsworth greeted in a not-so-civil tone.
“Hollingsworth.” Tristan nodded. “I had assumed you were heading home to sulk.”
“You thought wrong.” The lord walked slowly toward Tristan, eyeing him carefully. “I’m not a man who sulks. Instead, I’m a man who gets even.”
“Truly?” Tristan folded his arms across his chest. “What a surprise. I hadn’t heard that about you, Hollingsworth.”
The other man’s scowl darkened—if that were at all possible. “I’m warning you now. I will not tolerate a cheater.”
“Ah, such a good thing to know about you.” Tristan nodded. “I’m quite certain that particular trait will make you one trustworthy lord one day.”
“Lord Tristan,” he snarled. “I do not want to play another game of cards with you again.”
“Why not, my lord?” Tristan frowned. “Don’t you know how much I enjoy taking your money? Are you sure we couldn’t just work this out?”
Growling, Hollingsworth gripped the lapels of Tristan’s overcoat and shook him once. “Heed my warning, or you’ll be sorry. If you don’t do as I say, I might have to harm someone close to you just to teach you a lesson.”
Whether the man was foxed or not, Tristan had enough of this imbecile. Breaking the hold Hollingsworth had on him, Tristan pushed the older man, causing Hollingsworth to tumble back a couple of steps before righting himself.
“Now hear this, my lord.” Tristan sneered the last two words, hating that this kind of man had been born to noble parents. “I don’t take kindly to threats, especially aimed at those I care about. So if you value your life, you will refrain from saying such things. Understood?”
“You doubt my sincerity?”
Tristan could tell Hollingsworth wanted more—and Tristan would indeed give it to him. “I’m a fair man, and although I’m not an avid gambler like my brother, Lord Trey, I do enjoy making bets. I have a wager for you, my lord.” He held out the money he’d won tonight. “I will give you every last shilling here, if you withdraw your marriage offer to Miss Diana Baldwin.”
It took only seconds before Hollingsworth’s eyes widened and he laughed. “Oh, what a surprise this is! I actually have something Lord Tristan wants.”
“I’m quite serious, Hollingsworth. Leave the lady alone. She does not want to marry you. She wants to bemywife.”
Hollingsworth threw back his head and bellowed a laugh. “Oh, this is famous! Not very often do I see a time when a Worthington brother does not get what he wants.” He flipped his hand. “Regardless, I can assure you, Lord Tristan, you have lost. Miss Baldwin and Iwillmarry and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop it.”
Tristan’s mind grasped for anything that might help him. “How much do you want? I will pay handsomely. I have spoken with the man earlier, and he will allow me to wed his daughter if I can get you to release him.”
Hollingsworth shrugged. “If Lord Baldwin breaks the betrothal agreement, I shall see the man in prison and he knows it. I can assure you this battle Iwillwin because I hold the trump card!”
As Hollingsworth walked away, Tristan’s heart crumbled. What could he possibly do now to stop it?
“Tristan? What was that all about?”
