“I thought you weren’t going to show.”Parker looked up from behind the bar as she entered, his weathered face creasing into something that might have been a smile.He was the only person in London who knew Kit's true identity.He kept that secret in exchange for a cut of her winnings and the entertainment of watching nobles lose to a woman in breeches.
“You know better than that.”She dropped into her usual chair at the corner table, nodding at the two men already seated.“Gentlemen.”
Thea played the way she always did—well enough to win more than she lost, but careful never to draw too much attention.The cards were secondary to the thrill of freedom.No chaperones and no pretending that she was some innocent, almost spinster on the marriage mart.She might be close to a spinster, but she was far from innocent.
Here, she was just Kit.And Kit could do whatever the bloody hell Kit wanted.
She was up after a few hands.The door swung open, and she didn't look up from her cards, although the shift of the attentions in the room made her curious.She waited until she'd finished the hand, collected her modest winnings, and reached for her drink—the only one she’d allow herself—before glancing at the new arrivals.
Her hand froze around the glass.
Wesley.And he wasn't alone.Two men she immediately recognized flanked him.Wes’s closest friends from school, Lord Louis Beaumont and Lord Max Deering.She'd seen them at balls and house parties over the years.
They looked wrong here, all three of them.She had never imagined Wesley gambling, especially after he had taken on the weight of his father’s title.
Thea set her cards face down on the table, reaching for her glass to cover the tremor in her fingers.One of the men at her table had already noticed the new arrivals, craning his neck to get a better look.If she stood now and walked out, she could avoid this entirely.
But Wesley was already crossing the room toward her table.She pulled her cap down lower over her brow.She never removed her cap indoors, and no one ever said anything to her about it.
“Deal me in?”He stopped beside the empty chair across from her.His gaze passed over her without recognition, seeing only what she wanted him to see: a young man of middling status and unremarkable appearance.
He had no idea.None at all.
Thea's pulse beat in her throat.She kept her expression neutral, channeling every ounce of Kit's confidence, even as her mind raced.Wesley was standing three feet away, and he didn't know who she was.
“If you've got the coin.”She let her voice drop into a deep, rough tone.
Wesley smirked and waved his hand at her.“I think I can manage.”
He took the seat across from her.Louis claimed the chair to his left, already calling for whiskey, while Max settled at Wesley’s right.
The cards were dealt.Thea won the first hand on a bluff and grinned as she pulled the coins toward her.
“Damn and hell.”The curse slipped out in Kit's voice—the same mild profanity she always used when the cards went her way.“That's a pretty pot.”
Wesley laughed, and the sound hit her square in the chest.She hadn’t heard him laugh like that in so long.And she missed it.
She looked at her cards, then watched him across the table.And knew, with perfect clarity, that she was in trouble.
He signaled for another round with his sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms.She wasn't entirely sure what to do.
But she also didn’t want to leave.
Chapter 2
Wesley
Thesmallladacrossthe table won another hand.
Wesley watched the young man rake coins toward himself, cap pulled low, wearing that same satisfied grin he'd worn for the past hour.Kit, the others called him.And apparently, he was incapable of losing.
“Damn and hell,” Kit muttered, stacking his winnings.“That's a pretty pot.”
“You've said that four times now.”Wesley kept his tone mild, despite the irritation prickling beneath his skin as he twirled his signet ring around finger.He'd lost more tonight than he typically liked to spend gambling.Luck wasn’t usually this far from his side, at least when it came to cards.But with the way his night was going, he might have to seek assistance from the Wayward Dukes if he lost any more coin.
Kit's grin widened.“It keeps being true.”
Louis snorted into his whiskey.He'd stopped playing an hour ago, content to watch Wesley lose his coin while offering commentary.“I think you've found your match, Wes.”
