At his startled expression, she could not contain a laugh. In a million years she would never have predicted that she would one day freely admit her skill at nicking things to the Duke of Faircliffe.
He sat upright. “Show me.”
Oh, why not?She pulled a sovereign from one of her pockets. Gold flashed as she flipped it between her fingers, over, under, back again, over, under…
“Goodness—it’s gone!” She showed Lawrence her empty hands.
“Where did it go?” he demanded.
She lifted a shoulder. “Nowhere.”
With a snap of her fingers, there was the coin again, its worn edges flipping over her knuckles in a metallic blur.
The duke was kneeling before her in seconds. “Teach me.”
She snapped her fingers again, and the old sovereign disappeared. “Do you have your own coin?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is this a swindle where you take it from me if I say yes?”
She batted her eyelashes. “Find out.”
He fished in his pocket and pulled out a shilling. “Will this do?”
The thin silver coin lay in the center of his palm.
She waved her hand slowly over the top of his as if sensing the shilling’s spiritual emanations, then wrinkled her face in confusion.
His eyes flicked to hers.
Ha! That was all the time she needed. Chloe flung herself back onto her cushion and picked up her book. “I thought you said you had a shilling.”
“Itisa shilling. It’s—” A sound of baffled consternation choked in his throat. “I felt nothing! The shilling was there, and now it’s gone.”
“That’s how it used to feel every time I had money: Poof! Gone again.”
His eyes were still wide. “But how did youdoit?”
She sat back up, unable to hide her grin. “It would be irresponsible of me to teach you that trick. I’ll show you a different one. Have you another shilling?”
He crossed his arms over his wide chest. “Not for you.”
“Good,” she said with a laugh. “You’re learning.”
She touched his face and kissed him. When she pulled her hand away, his shilling was once again in her palm.
“Watch this.” She adjusted the muscles of her hand so that the shilling caught right in the center of her palm. “It’s delicate,” she warned him. “If your fingers are loose enough to appear natural, the slightest bump could dislodge your coin.”
She turned her hand over so the palm faced downward.
“It doesn’t look like you’re hiding anything,” he said in awe. “Just a woman holding out her hand to be kissed.”
She arched a brow. “Then kiss it.”
He did.
When he leaned back, she turned over her palm. It now contained his shilling and the handkerchief she’d just nicked from his lapel.
He burst out laughing. “All right, braggart. Let me try.”
