She made herself smile, but her face felt stiff, as if she still wore the mask from the brothel. “Forgive me if I don’t take your threats seriously, Captain. I’ve heard this all before, you see.”
“Not from me.”
“No, but what makes you any different than the others? Why should you succeed when they’ve failed?”
How far will you go, Julian?
But his answer didn’t matter, did it? Because as far as he’d go, she’d go further, just as she’d done in the brothel the other night. As far as she must.
Julian tossed three cards on the table and drew from the talon. “Point of five.”
Charlotte barely glanced at her own cards. “Good.”
Julian declaredquint, thensixiême, and recorded his points on a slip of paper. “You’re going to lose, my lady.”
“The game has just begun, Captain.”
He shrugged and drew from the talon to replace his discarded cards. “I had an illuminating chat with your friend the Comtesse this evening. Did you know that, Lady Hadley? She was quite forthcoming when I asked about your plans tonight. It took no more than a minute or two to get this address from her.”
Charlotte’s cards swam in front of her eyes. It was just as she’d suspected. He planned to charm her friends to get to her—to make her endure his company until he made London so intolerable she had no choice but to flee the city. And what then? She had no place left to go except to Bellwood, or worse, Hadley House.
Her heart began a panicked thrashing in her chest, but she forced herself to lay a card calmly on the table. “Point of two.”
“Not good, Lady Hadley.”
She declared a tierce, then a trio, both of which were discounted in favor of his cards. “Perhaps the Comtesse won’t be so accommodating the next time.”
“Perhaps not, but she was quite sympathetic when I told her about our past tragic love affair. She kept babbling about something—a wicked widow and a war hero, I think it was. She became rather breathless with the romance of it. It’s curious, Lady Hadley, but she seems to think a reconciliation might take place between us. Now, where do you think she got such an idea?”
Panic welled in Charlotte’s throat, nauseating her.
I’ll go as far as Julian will, as far as I must.
But she knew the words were a lie, because she could never go as far as he had tonight. To use what had once been such a tender love between them to tantalize her friends with the promise of a reconciliation that would never happen—such ruthlessness, such heartlessness stunned her.
Dear God, what had happened to him? She searched his impassive face, his cold dark eyes for the barest hint of the man he’d once been, but there was nothing there.
A chill settled over her heart. She didn’t recognize him.
Words formed on her lips, but before she could choke them out he spoke again. “The game is over, my lady.” He spread his cards across the table. “One hundred points. May I see your cards?”
Charlotte lowered her cards to the table, her hands shaking.
Julian glanced at them and made a disappointed noise in his throat. “Pity. You’re unlucky tonight. Or perhaps piquet isn’t your game after all?”
She looked at the cards arranged on the table, but she couldn’t make sense of them. “The score?”
“You owe me two hundred ten guineas, my lady.”
Charlotte groped inside her reticule with numb fingers. “My vowels—”
Julian grasped her hand, trapping it inside her reticule. “I don’t think so, Lady Hadley. I’ll have your coins now, if you please.”
Charlotte stared at him. “You’re mad. Do you think I’d carry two hundred ten guineas in my reticule?”
He didn’t let go of her hand. “I’m afraid that’s not my problem, but as I see you’re in a predicament, I might be willing to forgive the debt entirely. In exchange for a promise from you, that is.”
A promise. To leave London, or something equally impossible. She didn’t make promises she couldn’t keep.
