Charlotte played her king to clear out the ace, but it went around and she took the first trick.Ah. That meant that her hunch was likely right and Elizabeth held the ace, so Charlotte threw down another heart. Together, they cleared out the trumps and started in on the other suits, handily winning the leg.
“Well played,” said Wolfgang.
“Thank you,” said Elizabeth, but Charlotte made a face as she swept up the cards.
Warrick’s eyebrows rose. “Has a simple compliment aroused your ire, Lady Charlotte?”
Charlotte dealt and then flipped the last card to reveal diamonds as the trump suit. “Elizabeth and I both had strong hands and it took very little strategy to win. Do you think women ought to be congratulated for mere competence?”
“Not at all.” He lifted his cards and buried his grin in his hand.
The only strength in Charlotte’s second hand was that she had three diamonds to the king jack, just enough to make a little mischief. She led a club and Wolfgang took the trick with only a ten, which made the dowager cackle. “Oh, they’re running scared now!”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps we’re lulling you into a false sense of security,” said Charlotte.
But Wolfgang and the dowager took the leg, losing only three tricks.
“No congratulations?” Wolfgang said as he gathered up the cards for his deal.
“Of course!” Charlotte turned to Elizabeth. “Congratulations, partner, on recognizing that we didn’t have the cards to put up a defense and not losing heart over it.”
“Congratulations to you,” said Elizabeth, “on remembering we live to fight another day.”
Wolfgang shook his head. “Lady Alice, we’re playing against a pair of minxes.”
“I’mwellaware.”
Charlotte turned her attention to the next hand, ignoring the way his voice rumbled through her belly like a little earthquake. Her belly really ought to have more dignity. Or, because dignity had never been her strong suit, her belly at least ought to have more pride.
Wolfgang’s leg shifted beneath the table, his thigh pressing quite deliberately against her knee as he played his card. The thin silk of his stockings clung to his powerful calves, his breeches pulled tight against the hard muscles of his—
Oh, good God, he was egging her on. Charlotte caught his eyes, bit back a laugh, and bashed her knee into his.
“What ishappening?” cried the dowager when the table hopped.
“We’re playing cards.” Charlotte kept her face straight as she looked at the score sheet. “That’s one game for each of us, though we took more tricks in the first leg. Elizabeth, I do believe we’re winning.”
Wolfgang’s thigh ventured over to her again, but this time she stretched out her leg and rubbed her calf against his like a cat. He arched an eyebrow at her and she smiled—and ground her heel into his toes.
“Your Grace! What was that noise?” cried the dowager. “Are you all right?”
“I am.” His lips twitched, though he spoke quite gravely. “I survived the brutal assault your granddaughter launched on my toes.”
That caught Lady Skeffington’s attention. “Don’t tell me they’ve found a way to turn whistviolent?”
Charlotte collapsed into laughter. “Warrick, you tattletale! If you faced down Napoleon’s army, surely you can face down my slipper?”
His eyes gleamed. “I find you infinitely more dangerous than Napoleon.”
Charlotte had to duck her head so he couldn’t see how the comment pleased her.
The dowager sniffed. “Elizabeth, dear, I can see you’re the only sensible one at the table. Ignore them both and deal the cards.”
The foursome played for two more hours, trading tricks and insults as the candles sputtered down, Lady Skeffington led the other young women to bed, and Lysander and Marby trotted off to the cellars in search of Julian’s private wine reserve.
“Who deals next?” asked Charlotte.
“Not I.” The dowager yawned and pushed back from the table. “In fact, that was my last hand. At this hour, it becomes a game of stamina rather than wits.”
