Page 6 of A Game of Hazard

“Dice. As there are only two of us, I suggest that I play the role of Banque, and you can play against me in a game of Hazard.”

Lady Osbourne tugged open a drawer in her desk and extracted two dice which she placed on the walnut surface. She then produced a notebook and pencil.

“For keeping score,” she replied in response to his raised brows. “I like to keep a close eye on everything. I take it you know how to play Hazard?”

Of course, he did.

She handed him the dice. “Do you want to throw to decide on your Main?”

“No. I’ll begin with seven.”

His luck did not desert him—it was a good call. Indeed, as the game progressed, the little ivory counters moved between himself and the bank with pleasing regularity. However, as time passed, with neither party in the ascendant, his opponent grew impatient and began tapping the dice on her desk.

“I weary of this. Shall we stake all on the outcome of your next throw? I must return to my guests, or there’ll be gossip. And I’m sure you have other things to do with what remains of your evening. Name your Main.”

He understood her ladyship’s frustration. Indeed, he was becoming bored himself. Perhaps it would be better to get it over and done with. If she genuinely knew who the ringleader of the smugglers was, he would find a way to get the information out of her, one way or another. It didn’t matter overmuch if he lost this game—she could dangle no heiress in front of him that would cause him to change his plans.

He called seven again and promptly threw two sixes.

The blood beat in his temples as he stared at the dice. What were the chances that having called seven, he would throw out and thus lose the game in a single round? Hardly any sixes had been rolled during the game, but to throw two of them at such a vital point in proceedings was a significant misfortune.

Lady Osbourne clapped her hands in triumph. “Your luck has abandoned you, Captain! But I swear—you won’t regret losing to me. Fate has made her choice—as have I—and you’ll meet the young lady in question at my assembly on Friday. An invitation will be delivered to your billet in the morning.”

She dropped the dice back into the drawer, and he heard the key being turned in the lock. Then, before he could object, her ladyship had swept from the room. When he followed her a few moments later, it was to find her in deep conversation with a couch-load of matrons and clearly beyond his reach.

His heart sank. What manner of scrape had he got himself into this time, and how could he get out of it without losing face? The last thing he wanted was for Lady Osbourne to tarnish his reputation. In fact, the last thing he wanted was for Lady Osbourne to draw any attention to him at all. Perhaps it would be easier to go along with her scheme. There might be some entertainment to be had—some adventure, even. As long as the so-called heiress in question did not have two heads, he was almost sure he could play the part of the besotted admirer for a month.

Almost sure.

CHAPTER 3

When Alex was introduced to Captain Giles Harewood by Lady Osbourne, her breath quickened. Well, whose wouldn’t? He was tall—well over six foot—splendidly built but muscular, and he had the most delightful curly brown hair and hazel eyes.

Not to mention the fact that he was wearing regimentals. Even though she should, in light of her current business, live in fear of any man in such apparel, her heart always skipped a beat at the sight of a handsome officer. Uniform made gentlemen look so smart, so capable.

This fellow had excellent manners too. Instead of concentrating his attention on her, he greeted her mother with a beaming smile and a kiss on the hand. As his considerable charm washed over her, Mama blushed and fluttered her eyelashes.

Oh, dear. If Captain Harewood could win Mama over with such ease, Alex was already short of one ally. She must ensure her mother never found out that both she and the gallant captain were entangled in this heinous scheme of Lady Osbourne’s. Particularly if that scheme was supposed to lead to marriage because Mama would immediately side with her ladyship.

Mama had insisted Alex be sent to finishing school and on the Grand Tour to forge her into suitable marriage material. The last thing her poor, late Papa would have wanted—Mama always said—was for Alex to take over the smuggling business. But Alex knew full well that if she had not stepped in, Papa’s empire would have been taken over by someone untrustworthy like George Prowse—or undermined entirely.

There had been several suspicious incidents since Alex’s return to England, the weak brandy being the least of them. Gangs of men had gone to meet boats that never arrived, barrels of rum had gone missing, and revenue men and militia had turned up in places where they weren’t supposed to be, resulting in the seizing of cargo. Only quick thinking had saved her men from capture.

If she couldn’t get to the bottom of it soon, the Circle members would be at the mercy of the law, and their families would suffer. Despite the illegality of her trade, Alex abhorred poverty and what she saw as unfairness and couldn’t bear to see people deprived of their livelihood. It was a heavy responsibility, keeping the Circle going, but she could see no way out of it.

Becoming aware of a presence close by, she lifted her head to find Captain Harewood gazing at her, his lips curved in amusement.

“Miss Isaacs—you wound me. I’ve asked you more than once for a dance, and you turn on me nothing but a deaf ear. As we’ve spoken no more than two words to one another since our introduction, I cannot imagine how I’ve offended you.”

“Oh, forgive me, sir. I was wool-gathering.”

Her voice sounded breathy, her utterance foolish. Well, it would do no harm for him to think her empty-headed. This was the man Lady Osbourne wanted her to consider as a potential husband, and it was far safer if he didn’t realize she was clever. Maybe she could behave like a simpering fool for the entire month and put both him and Lady Osbourne off the whole horrendous idea of marriage. Was he a willing participant in the scheme, or a conscript? She still didn’t know.

“You haven’t answered my question.” His voice was low and pleasing, and his eyes held a mocking twinkle.

“I prefer not to dance.” She was all elbows and knees, or so her dancing mistress had told her.

“That is not the question I wanted answered,” he said softly. “I asked if I had offended you.”