“No,” Lily said firmly. “I will give you a trick to avoid losing. Do not play—I imagine you are skilled at a great many things, but piquet is not your game.”
Mr. Gentry hung his head. “I was foolish, I suppose. I told my friends I could beat both you and Lord Ashworth if I had a mind and they laughed at me. So then, I was determined, you see.”
“I do see,” Lily said. “Though, if they are really your friends, they will not mind you being foolish on occasion. We have all been guilty of it.”
Mr. Gentry nodded sadly and said, “I will settle the debt promptly.”
Lily smiled, hoping she had convinced Mr. Gentry to cease throwing away his money. Her attention was drawn to an audible gasp coming from Lord Ashworth’s table. Lily presumed the lord was trouncing Mr. Shine.
“Let us remove and watch the play,” she said, rising. Lily held out a high hope that Lord Ashworth might dispatch Mr. Shine speedily and there would be time for her to play him. That was, if Mr. Shine had the stomach for it, which he might not after playing the lord and noting how little his scholarship of the game had actually advanced his prospects.
Mr. Gentry nodded resignedly, and they moved to Lord Ashworth and Mr. Shine’s table.
As Lily gazed down at the scene, she at first could not quite discern what she was seeing. What she had expected to see on the two men’s faces were confidence from Lord Ashworth and chagrin from Mr. Shine. The picture was a deal more muddled than that. Lord Ashworth appeared some combination of irritated and confused. Mr. Shine seemed nervous and elated.
Mr. Medham, the young gentleman who had played Lord Ashworth earlier, stood next to her and said softly, “Extraordinary. That fellow is about to prevail.”
Lily did not see what was so extraordinary about Lord Ashworth prevailing. After all, he was a very good player and Mr. Shine was a very bad player. The outcome could not be more predictable.
The gentleman on the other side of Mr. Medham answered him. “His reputation will be made. It is not often that Lord Ashworth loses.” The gentleman colored slightly, seeming to realize that she was nearby. Since Lady Montague’s party, she had grown used to being known for her victories over Lord Ashworth. “Not often, anyway,” he murmured.
Lily turned back to the game. It was impossible that Lord Ashworth lose to Mr. Shine. She had played the man; she knew precisely how unskilled he was. Something was not right.
Lily moved behind Mr. Shine to see his hand. It was strong.
There was some mystery here. Perhaps Lord Ashworth had been taken ill and fought on despite it, thereby affecting his play. Or more likely, perhaps Mr. Shine had all along been an expert and had concealed that fact—over-confidence could lead to ruin and Lord Ashworth may have fallen for the ruse. If that were the case, Lily must admit she’d fallen for the ruse, too. It was a strategy as old as the hills—lose one gamble with utter incompetence and then come back for a far larger wager and reveal one’s true skill. Lily would never lower herself to such tricks, but she did not doubt the oily Mr. Shine would.
Could he actually be that good? And then, Mr. Shine was a cousin to Lady Carradine. Certainly, he would not dare introduce such trickery into her club. So, if it was not that, what was happening? She dearly wished to know the cause of this strange circumstance.
As she had often done, when she looked for an item either about her somewhere or in her mind, Lily pulled back her view. Rather than attend to one thing or the other, she wished to see the scene in its entirety. Often, when she looked at a thing in such a manner, something would leap out at her and call her attention to it.
As if gazing at a painting, Lily saw the tiniest scratch in the wood near the corner of the table—it was new, it had not been there the last time she’d come. There was a faint ink stain on one of Mr. Shine’s fat fingers. Lord Ashworth’s fingernails were buffed, and there was the smallest droplet on the table near the corner of one of Mr. Shine’s cards, as if someone had been careless of a drink. Her eyes roved over the slight fray on one of Mr. Shine’s cuffs, the minutest imperfection in the weave of Lord Ashworth’s cravat, the cards laid down that had been played…
Suddenly, like a rising flame on a candle just lit, she unlocked the mystery. It was there in Lord Ashworth’s hand, it was there laid on the table.
It was the backs of the cards.
Lady Carradine’s packs had so far been all alike. It was clear she used a skilled printer to ensure no defects. This pack of cards was similar, but not identical to the cards she’d seen before. Nor were they identical to one another. The changes were subtle indeed, but Lily could throw each version of the card up in her mind and examine them minutely.
Lady Carradine’s regular packs and this pack depicted similar scenes on the back—a garden gate enshrined with blooming pink roses. It was a busy pattern with greenery in the background and a gold-leafed border. The pack that was in play between Lord Ashworth and Mr. Shine was similar, but showed the smallest of differences between cards.
The tiny lock on the gate was not uniform. The rose closest to the lock did not contain the same amount of petals.
Lily stared at the cards and let her mind do its work. Searching, searching for a pattern.
It came to her in a moment. There appeared to be four variations in the locks, they must be the suits. The number of petals ran widely—they must indicate the number of the card.
To confirm her idea, she took note of the cards in Mr. Shine’s hand. If she were right, when he laid them face down, she would be able to decipher them using the lock shape and number of petals.
As cards were played, Lily watched Mr. Shine lay down a jack of hearts. He took the trick and laid it face down. Yes, just as she’d thought—the lock slightly oblong and the petals numbering eleven. The cards were marked. She was certain Mr. Shine was the author of it, as it thoroughly explained his newfound success.
He’d been clever about it. The shapes of the locks were only minutely different and not at all obvious. The heart was not shown as a heart shape, which might easily have given away the cheat, but rather just a hair more oblong than the spade lock. The diamond had one slightly sharpened corner and the club had the smallest round protrusion.
The same had been done with the petals, they were not boldly shown. In fact, for the higher cards, some petals only peeked out from behind others.
As she finished working out the system, Mr. Shine laid down his last card. He had won the match.
Hushed whispers swirled around her and the observers moved away. As if they were a flock of birds startled to flight, the gentlemen went running for their overcoats. Lily supposed all who had witnessed the game wished to be the first to tell their friends that there was a new gambler in town. She understood that gentlemen often stayed at their clubs until dawn and it was just on half past one—these fellows would race to be the first through the door to tell the tale.
