Christopher took a deep breath and wet his lips. “Christopher Campbell. I’m no’ sure if I’m ready, but time will tell, I suppose.”
“Ah, boys, we’ve got a Scot in our midst. We’ll need to watch for this one.” Grey jested.
“I dinna ken about that. We shall see.”
“Indeed, we will.” A man looking to be about the same age as Christopher spoke. His blue eyes narrowed as he assessed Christopher. “Not all of us can be winners. The odds are surely against our favor. Though I intend to be in the winning category.”
“You truly are an arrogant prick, Jensen,” Grey chided. He turned to Christopher. “Gary Jensen. You can ignore his dour mood. He really is always this miserable.”
Christopher looked at Jensen. The man oozed privilege and wealth. From his well-tailored suit to the tip of his Italian loafers. Christopher disliked him instantly. The way he looked down his nose at Christopher irked him.
“Good to ken,” Christopher quipped, dismissing the cad, and focusing his attention on Grey. “Have ye been here before? I’m curious as to what is to come.”
“Ah,” Grey chuckled. “I haven’t. Though I hear that one time is all you get, so best make the most of it.”
The Lyon’s Den was proving to be curiouser and curiouser.
“Interesting. I’m quite certain I saw a man letting a scorpion crawl up his arm earlier. I do hope that is no’ an entry task.”
“I’ve a feeling we aren’t going to know what game we will be playing until we are called. Whatever the results, it should make for an interesting evening.”
Jensen stood. “Gentlemen,” he said dismissively as he walked away and exited out of the room.
Christopher’s eyes tracked his retreat. “He seems a pleasant one,” he said snidely.
Grey belted out a laugh. “He’s a tightly wound one, that Jensen. Never happy. Always miserable. You must be new to London if you haven’t crossed paths before.”
Shrugging, Christopher puffed on his cigar, exhaling the smoke in rings that floated through the air. “I’ve been here for several weeks.”
“Is that all? And you’ve already received an invitation to the den? You must be something special.”
With a tilt of his head, he lifted his glass in a cheer. “Or just lucky.”
“Let’s hope that luck is running on our sides this night. If so, we should have an enjoyable evening, no matter what lies ahead.”
The cryptic way Grey spoke had Christopher second-guessing his decision to accept the invitation here. He absent-mindedly patted his waistcoat, where on the inside, tucked in the pocket was the deed to Colthrop Hall. What prompted him to bring it with him, he didn’t ken.
In reality, he couldn’t afford to lose another Campbell property. He’d done that when he gambled away the family’s prize-winning sheep. Thankfully, his brother was able to get them back before any harm was done to them, but he kenned it cost Alexander dearly.
The pain he felt at what he’d put Alexander through felt like it would never cease. It burned in his gut daily. That’s where the whisky came in. It helped him forget.
Forget that he was such a disappointment.
This was the night that he would fix that.
Chapter Six
“Mama, I cannotbelieve we are in such a place.” Whitney looked around the room they’d been ushered into after meeting with Mrs. Dove-Lyon. Below them, men played various games. Originally, she thought they were partaking in games of cards or darts. But no, on closer inspection these games were of the sort that she had never seen in her life.
“Shhh,” her mother hushed her. “Soon, you will see your prospects.”
Whitney hated how it sounded like a business deal. She supposed in a sense it was. She’d learned her parents had paid an astronomical amount of coin to the woman who owned the Lyon’s Den. The payment guaranteed her a husband that would overlook her past indiscretions. No questions asked.
From what Whitney had been told, usually it was the men who paid dearly for the chance for a wife.
But for the Watkins, the tables were turned. It was she that needed a husband. She was still unsure about how she felt about that.
Did she want to give away her heart so freely as she had done before? It hadn’t led her to happiness. Why would this situation be any different? Especially with this feeling like she was using some sort of trickery to gain a husband. She didn’t want a man resentful toward her for the rest of her life because he thought she entrapped him in some sort of way. Even though her potential husband would have likely had to sign the same type of binding contract she had upon arrival.
