“What a coward! Elizabeth, are you braver than your mother?”
“No, but I am a glutton for punishment. I’d be delighted to play, Lady Alice.”
“Good. Then all we need is a fourth.”
Alexandra sat up and said, “I should like to play,” but the dowager pretended not to hear.
“Ah, Your Grace! You’ve proved yourself on the battlefield—would you dare to risk it all at the card table?”
No! No!yelled Charlotte inside.
Wolfgang leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs. “Just what am I risking?”
“In truth, very little,” said the dowager. “We play for pride.”
“And to brag insufferably the next morning,” muttered Lady Skeffington.
Wolfgang shot a look at Charlotte. “Then I’ve nothing to lose. My pride is in tatters already.”
His eyes had been lingering on her all night, and not with his usual brooding disapproval, as if he were a teacher and she a particularly unpromising pupil.
“Gran, on second thought I believe I’ll sit this one out. Alexandra, you can take my—”
“No, I’m sure Alexandra’s all wrapped up in her spillikins.” The dowager stood and adjusted her shawl. “It will have to be you, my darling.”
Lysander rather absently raised his head. “Actually, we’re just about to finish and I’d love a—” He caught the dowager’s flinty-eyed stare. “I’d love another round of spillikins. Georgiana, you steady-handed terror, I’ll get you yet.”
Charlotte’s mouth flattened. There was a conspiracy afoot, and she should know, as conspiracies were one of her talents. Still, if she faked a headache and retired to bed, she’d have nothing but the four walls of her bedchamber to occupy her.
“Oh, very well.” Charlotte slunk over to join the others at the card table. “Whist it is.”
The dowager fanned a deck of cards out over the green baize. “Draw for partner.”
Everyone flipped their cards and Charlotte nearly wilted with relief. “Elizabeth, it looks as if you and I are a team.”
Wolfgang took his seat opposite the dowager and began to shuffle, his hands large but deft and talented, as if they were made for un-tying ribbons and soothing little buttons out of their holes. “What do you think, Lady Alice? Shall we trounce them?”
“Indeed!”
Elizabeth let out a startled laugh. “Charlotte, are we going to let that go unanswered?”
“Let them talk. My card play does my bragging for me.” Charlotte shuffled the second deck as Elizabeth cut and the dowager began to deal. “Elizabeth, I should tell you that Gran turns pink whenever she has the ace of trumps.”
“How obliging of her,” said Elizabeth.
“And you?” said Wolfgang to Charlotte. “What are your tells?”
She smiled. “Tells? Your Grace, how optimistic. You’ll never learn to read me.”
The dowager flipped a card to determine the trump suit and they began to play.
Charlotte had a promising hand, bristling with kings and jacks, and a glorious run of hearts, which was the trump suit for the round. She held no aces, but across the table Elizabeth’s eyes were bright as stars, which seemed promising.
She shot a sideways glance at Wolfgang. Candlelight flickered over his profile—the stubborn brow, the blunt nose. He sat relaxed, his posture easy, but she could feel his quickening interest as he studied his hand, like a lion who had spotted dinner in the distance.
Oh dear. It was hard not to adore a man who adored cards.
The dowager slapped down the opening card and the game began.
