“I don’t believe a single thing has ever slipped your mind, Your Grace.” He was good at playing the thoughtless rake, but he didn’t fool her. Anyone who cared to look into his eyes could see he possessed a keen intellect. For all his desultory manner, there was little that escaped his notice.
“I’m flattered, Miss Thorne, but you give me too much credit.” He fetched another cue from the rack and held it out to her. “Come. There’s no one about to see you, and you’ve no need to be wary of me.”
“Wary?” Her ripple of laughter seemed louder than it should in the quiet room. “Do you suppose I’m frightened of you, Your Grace?”
He eyed her for a long moment, then murmured, “No, I think not. But if you’re reluctant, then perhaps a wager might tempt you into a game?”
There was that smile again, as dark as his eyes. He was the devil’s own minion, luring her into sin, and she didn’t trust him any more than she would Satan himself. Her father had been taken in by that mesmerizing smile, and just look where that had landed them. “I don’t wager.”
“No? Why is that, Miss Thorne?”
“Because I don’t have anything I can afford to lose. You said yourself that was the first rule of wagering, Your Grace—never risk anything you can’t afford to lose.” It was nothing but the truth, but this was a man who’d given his mistress rubies as large as a baby’s fist. A duke with that much wealth at his fingertips wasn’t likely to understand her reasoning. No doubt he’d find it comically provincial.
But he didn’t laugh. He merely gazed at her, a strange expression on his face. She couldn’t read it, but he’d certainly never looked at her in quite that way before. “Is something wrong, Your Grace?”
“No.” He looked away, clearing his throat. “Normally I’d applaud your restraint, Miss Thorne, but in this case, the wager can only help you. You have something in your possession that belongs to me, and I’m willing to make a considerable sacrifice to get it back.”
“If you truly wanted it, Your Grace, you might have had it by now. Only yesterday you told me I might do whatever I liked with those earrings. What’s brought about this sudden change of mind?”
“I’m weary of these games. I want those earrings back in my possession at once before they’re lost, or worse, they miraculously find their way back to Lady Archer.”
Lady Archer! Well, she hadn’t even thought ofthat. Some blackmailer she’d turned out to be. “I’m not as unscrupulous as you seem to think, Your Grace.” Then again, hadn’t she already proved herself to be a thief, and an extortionist? It stood to reason he’d think her a lying, unrepentant schemer, as well.
“You say so, Miss Thorne, but you’ve done rather well for yourself up to this point, haven’t you? Do you have the earrings with you?”
“Yes.”
“Very good. Then let’s start negotiations, shall we?” He regarded her for a long moment in silence, his eyes glittering. “The wager I propose is a simple one. If I win, you will return the earrings to me. If you win, I will forgive your father’s debt. Not just the remaining five hundred pounds, but the whole of it.”
She stared at him. Surely, he couldn’t be serious? “But that’s fifteen hundred pounds!”
“Yes, I’m aware of that, Miss Thorne.”
Had the man gone mad? “You mean to say, Your Grace, that you’d risk fifteen hundred pounds on a single game of billiards?”
He shrugged, his expression giving nothing away. “I don’t see why not.”
She stared at him, her heart slamming against her rib cage. One game of billiards, and she could come away with enough money not only to keep their estate, but also reclaim the property they’d sold.
It sounded too good to be true, which meant it likelywas.
Why should Montford offer her such a chance? Of course, fifteen hundred pounds was a mere pittance to him. He likely wagered double or triple that amount on a casual game of cards at White’s every evening.
“Well, Miss Thorne? The night marches on.”
How could she possibly agree to a wager with him after she’d scolded her father so mercilessly for his own wager with the man? Then again, how could she say no? If she won, their future would be secure, and there’d be no need for her to marry Lord Stoneleigh. Such an opportunity wasn’t going to come her way a second time.
Unless . . . mightn’t there be some trick to it? Montford had made quick work of her father. Mightn’t he do the same with her? “Let me see if I understand you correctly, Your Grace. You’re risking fifteen hundred pounds on a wager after I’ve offered to return your earrings to you simply for forgiving the five-hundred-pound debt? Do I have that right?”
“You do indeed, Miss Thorne, but you’ve forgotten one thing. In order to get the fifteen hundred pounds, you have towinat billiards.”
“And if I lose?”
“If you lose, you’ll return my ruby earrings to me, and I will consider this matter closed.”
Of course, he thought he’d beat her easily. He’d said it himself—most ladies didn’t play billiards, and the few who did weren’t likely to offer much in the way of a challenge to a gentleman like him, who must play frequently.
But she wasn’t like most ladies. There was a chance she could beat him at billiards, particularly as he wouldn’t be expecting her to be any good. Still, it all seemed too easy. “A day ago, I offered to return your earrings if you forgave the remainder of my father’s debt. You declined, but now you’re proposing an exchange that is far more advantageous to me than the one you refused. I can’t think of any reason you should do so.”
