Page 2 of Highland Spy

Never once did she slouch to mask her movements, nor even attempt to duck. No, in full view of the table and with speed a veteran pickpocket would envy, she cheated.

She spread her cards on the table with a victorious smile and rose slightly from her seat to rake in her stolen coin.

Connor found Delilah’s face in a sea of many, met her gaze, and looked pointedly toward the table.

He’d found their new girl.

• • •

Ariana Fitzroy had been too greedy.

She gave a charming smile to the men at the table and pulled a pile of coins toward herself. They clinked against one another, the merry tinkling rising above the din of laughter and conversation.

How she’d come to love the sound of her winnings.

Tonight though, she’d taken it a mite too far.

She’d gone beyond what she needed for the merchant’s bills, the servants’ pay, and the rent on her meager lodgings.

The coins were cool against the warmth of her palm.

Winning always gave her such a heady rush, a wash of heat spreading from her cheeks to her chest and all the way down to her satin-slippered toes.

A discomfiting sensation settled on Ariana, one of which she’d always been especially wary.

The weight of being watched.

A woman with dark blonde hair had joined the table and regarded her with a quiet curiosity. Her red lips lifted into a smile, and Ariana noted she had a slight freckle beside her generous mouth.

Ariana looked down at the cards being dealt out before them, severing the connection.

The last thing she needed was one of the girls at court trying to make friends with her.

Not here.

Not like this.

Perhaps a year prior, when she’d had not a care in the world, when all her possessions were paid for with unseen coin.

She piled the cards against one another in an indiscernible stack, enabling her to see the faces with discretion while masking the number of cards displayed.

The hand was not in her favor. But then, was it ever?

Ariana glanced up at the blonde again and found the other woman’s gaze had settled somewhere across the room.

Perfect.

Ariana tucked her hands lower against the table as if she were deep in concentration. And truly, she was.

In deep concentration of feeling the sharp edge of the card in her sleeve and sliding it out before anyone noticed.

Her heart pounded in her chest and her breath came faster—it always did when she cheated at cards.

Cheated.

How she despised the word.

How she despised the necessity of it.