“Cheating?”
“Not that anyone has ever accused him,” Harry said. “Just damn good, like you are. But it’s like he’s two different men. One night he’s at the Brass Bull betting hundreds of pounds and the next he’s at the Hillspot, where bets are limited to five pounds. The same places where your cousin and Mr. Harper Tabor do most of their playing.”
“So, he makes money off the small bets where players aren’t as good and then plays with the skilled players?”
“That’s what I’m thinking. And the rumor is he’s starting his own club to teach younger players how to become skilled.”
“And they have to pay in order to get in these clubs?”
Harry nodded. “There’s one other interesting bit of information you might find useful. I heard Remick asked if he might be a guest at Lord Lyonwood’s card club and he was refused. Now that you are an earl too, you might want to ask Lord Lyonwood what he knows about the man.”
“I’ll do that.”
Harry shook his head. “Imagine an American wanting a seat at the earl’s gaming table.”
Zane nodded as he looked over at the clock. It was almost four. Rather late in the afternoon to call on someone. Brina wouldn’t approve, but he didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to talk to Lyon. Besides, Lyon lived right beside Brina. Why pass up an opportunity to see her?
By the time Zane saw Harry out and had his landau brought around, half an hour had passed. His carriage stopped in front of Lyon’s house alongside four other carriages, including those of the Duke of Middlecastle and the Duke of Marksworth, Lyon’s father. That’s when Zane remembered it was Lyon’s card club day. He wasn’tone to interrupt a man’s game. He didn’t know how long they played but he’d wait.
With Brina.
He stepped out onto the pavement and sent his driver away, not knowing how long he might have to wait. As he started toward Brina’s house, he heard talking coming from the back of her house. After he passed the tall hedge that separated her house from Lyon’s, he saw the top of Brina’s head. He walked about halfway down the side of her house and looked over the garden wall. She wasn’t alone. There looked to be a dozen girls with her.
Zane huffed a silent laugh at them. They wore what looked to be men’s long-sleeved shirts over the top of their dresses. Easels were in front of them, paint brushes were in their hands. Brina stood in front of them talking. Crouching low enough not to be seen, he quietly moved in closer so he could hear.
“A good painting of a flower begins with a well-drawn flower. You will see, I’ve already drawn the flower for you to make your first lesson easy. You are going to start with the stem. I want all of you to dip your paint brush into the green paint. Don’t look at your partner or her work. You are only interested in your drawing. Pretend you have the entire easel to yourself and not just half of it. What the other girls are doing or how they are doing it should not affect what you do. After you have paint on your brush, make slow, easy strokes like this.”
Zane continued to watch her. The way her hands moved and her shoulders rolled as she colored in the stem of her flower. Her voice remained calm as she continued to instruct. She would make a few strokes and turn back to her students and explain something else before placing her brush on the canvas again. The girls were quiet and attentive as they watched her and made the same strokes.
After her stem was finished, Brina walked over and looked at their paintings. The girls asked questions. Pointing to their work with her brush, she answered by making suggestions. He was mesmerized watching how unruffled she was with them and how much they seemed to adore her, sometimes all of them talking at the same time and vying for her attention by gathering around her. Without much effort, she’d quiet them and send them back to their easels.
Zane relaxed and folded his arms comfortably over his chest. He could watch her all day. She was a patient teacher. She would be a good and patient mother. To his children. Their children. He didn’t just want to marry her; he didn’t want to live without her. He loved everything about her.
And that was a damn good feeling.
He didn’t know how long he continued to watch her, but he finally heard talking from Lyon’s house and the sound of carriages leaving. He would wait and see her after his visit with the earl next door.
When the last carriage rolled out of sight, Zane rapped the knocker.
“Lord Blacknight to see Lord Lyonwood if he’s available,” he said to the staunch-looking butler.
“Wait here, my lord,” the butler said, and moments later Lyon came walking down the corridor and motioned for Zane to come.
“Blacknight,” Lyon called. “Come join us. Garrett’s with me. We’re having a drink.”
Zane’s stomach twisted and one of his hands made a tight fist of frustration. He would enjoy a drink right now. “Nothing for me,” he mumbled to himself and headed toward Lyon. The men shook hands, and once inside the book room, Zane greeted Garrett as well.
“Sit down,” Lyon offered, pointing to a chair.
“Thank you. I won’t stay long. How did the games go this afternoon?”
“My father and Garrett won most of the money. The rest of us didn’t fare as well.”
“That happens.” Zane gave Garrett a nod of approval before giving his attention back to Lyon. “I dropped by because I wanted to ask you about a man named Remick. I heard he wanted to play with your club and was wondering if you could tell me anything about the man.”
Lyon scoffed and then sipped his drink. “The American? No, I can’t tell you much. He asked to see me, so out of courtesy, I met with him. Apparently, he’s a skilled player and wanted an opportunity to play with my group.”
“But you didn’t agree.”
