Page 12 of The Hood and his Thief

“Don’t get too confident,” she teased as she swept the cards away, using Mr. Gower’s moment of consternation to flick a card up her sleeve. Now the queen of hearts replaced the three of spades in her hand.

Honestly, maybe she should have worn gowns with these wide, lacy sleeves in the gambling dens of the lower city. They made it incredibly easy to palm a card.

“Maybe you’re the one that’s too confident,” Mr. Blakely quipped. “What if we made this more interesting?”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a gambling man,” Rhosyn shot back.

“Well, I’m certainly not,” Joseph grumbled.

“Me neither,” Mr. Gower agreed.

“Then what about a bet between just me and Ms. Walsh,” Mr. Blakely suggested. His voice took on a low timbre that made Rhosyn sit up straighter in her chair.

“And what would we be betting?” she asked.

“If I win, you have to be a special guest at one of my circus’s performances,” Mr. Blakely said firmly.

“That hardly seems like an imposition,” Rhosyn pointed out.

“Imposing isn’t my goal. And what would you like if you win?”

Rhosyn narrowed her eyes at him thoughtfully. “I want you to tell me what act you performed in the circus.”

Mr. Blakely’s eyes flashed. “How do you know I ever performed? Maybe I just run the shows.”

Rhosyn snorted, nodding to his outfit. “I know a showman when I see one.”

“Alright, if you win, I’ll tell you about my act in the circus, if I performed at all.”

They reached across the table to shake on it. As Mr. Blakely’s hand grasped hers, rough calluses at the base of his fingers scraped her palm. She raised her eyebrows. Maybe he was a juggler.

Then they returned to the game. They went around the table playing the first card, both teams being evenly matched. Coming into the last trick, both teams were tied, and Mr. Blakely smiled at Rhosyn triumphantly.

“I’m afraid you’ll never know my hidden performance skills,” he said in mock disappointment.

It was Rhosyn’s turn to set down the opening card—her last one—and she grinned. “You’re so confident you can best the queen of hearts?”

Mr. Blakely blinked down at the red silhouette staring up at him from the table. Slowly, he laid down his own card, the jack of clubs.

“Oh ho!” Mr. Gower clapped his hands in delight, even though his team had lost. “Now, Mr. Blakely, you must tell us of your hidden talent.”

Mr. Blakely stiffened.

“Oh, I didn’t mean Talent as in…” Mr. Gower hurried to rectify himself.

“Of course not,” Mr. Blakely waved a hand of dismissal, as if Rhosyn hadn’t felt the air quiver as the muscles in his body went rigid a moment earlier. “But maybe a demonstration of my skills would be a better explanation.”

“Some entertainment!” Mr. Gower exclaimed, clearly pleased to have a similar show to the King at his party.

“I’ll need a few things though,” Mr. Blakely said, “A knife, an apple, and of course a lovely volunteer.”

“I think you have your volunteer right here,” Joseph chimed in, gesturing to Rhosyn.

“As long as you promise not to be scared,” Mr. Blakely said, something hard and challenging in his gaze.

“Oh, so this is going to be dangerous? I’m growing more excited by the second,” Rhosyn quipped.

“I’ll see if I can’t get a servant to fetch the other things.” Mr. Gower pushed to his feet, meandering off to find one of the footmen doing their best to blend into the walls.