Page 6 of 10 Things I Hate About the Earl

Marcus waved a hand and chuckled, feigning a nonchalance he certainly didn’t feel. “Not at all. The ladies do enjoy a pretty deck, but I’ll take plain.” He grinned. “Unless the forget-me-nots will throw you off your game. Then by all means, use those.”

Ainsley snorted. “I assure you, the decor makes no difference to me.”

Marcus sipped his wine, trying to relax, as the waning figures of his bank account danced before his eyes. He had no business playing with Nathan—or anyone, for that matter. Still, the promise of some quick money sang a siren song that drowned out the voice of reason. He’d lost a middling large sum to his friend last weekend, so he was due for a winning evening. Ainsley could afford to drop a couple thousand pounds and not even miss it. And who better to give it to than his best friend?

Ainsley discarded the lower cards and shuffled with expert hands. The man was certainly no slouch when it came to cards—still, Marcus had a feeling he would prevail tonight.

“My sister is rather annoyed at you.” Nathan finished shuffling and cut the cards, revealing a king of spades.

“Your sister is forever annoyed at me.” Marcus waved away his cut, and his friend began to deal. “I’ve never understood why.” Kate Locke’s aversion to him had been instantaneous upon their first meeting seven years before when Ainsley had invited him to Somerset for a holiday. His younger sisters had been great fun. Only Katherine had taken him in dislike and given him the rough side of her tongue from that day to this. Marcus shook his head as he discarded five very bad cards and drew five even worse.

“She told me it was because she thought you looked like a frog and would give her warts if you could.” Ainsley chuckled. “Carte blanche.”

“The devil you say!” Marcus stared at the cards Ainsley flashed him. Not a court card in the hand. Damn. He’d shake it off though. “Did you not inform her that toads give warts, not frogs?”

“I did.” His friend laughed and made his discard. “To which she retorted, ‘Well, he’d still try his best to do it, whether he could or not.’”

“God, she’s always been impossible. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen at the time.” He moved his cards about, trying to make something out of absolutely nothing. The memory of Kate Locke seven years ago, fresh-faced, pert, and more intelligent than any woman he’d met still set his teeth on edge. She’d been wearing a blue frock that day, which seemed to intensify the rich auburn of her hair. Clear blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a sprinkling of bran over her petite nose had made her seem the epitome of the English maiden. Then she’d opened her mouth, and any charm she might have possessed had vanished with the first of countless barbs aimed directly at him.

“Try living with her.” Ainsley pored over his cards then caught Marcus’s eye.

“Not for the Crown Jewels and enough blunt for a Grand Tour. Lead with King of Clubs. One point.”

“She’s got some quarrel with you about your sister at the moment. Carte blanche,” Ainsley began his declarations, which went on for quite some time. By the time he finished, he had ninety-four points.

Marcus stared at the cards in his hand, his stomach turning the excellent burgundy to vinegar. “How the devil did you do that?”

“I swear, luck of the draw.” Ainsley looked abashed, even though his face had flushed with the excitement of the play. Apparently, it was his friend’s lucky night, not his. “Quite the thrill, eh?”

“Without even playing a card.” Marcus shook his head and drained his glass. Truly not his night.

“Which I will do now.” His friend laid down a Jack of Clubs.

“Two. What does your sister find exceptional about my sister? I don’t believe they’ve ever met. The girl just came out two weeks ago. Queen of Clubs. Three.” Marcus didn’t want to talk about Miss Locke or even think about her. Perhaps she was the source of this bad luck.

“She thinks you’re being unreasonable because you won’t let Lady Letitia waltz. Seven of Clubs.” Ainsley dropped the card onto the court card.

“Four.” Marcus pounced on the trick. “I hardly think it any of Miss Locke’s concern. Ten of Clubs. Five.” The woman should not give her opinion on what she did not understand.

“Well, I think it has less to do with your sister and more to do with criticizing you.” Ainsley laid down the Seven of Diamonds. “Although, I do think you should allow the girl to waltz if she wants to. It’s truly not the scandal it was even five years ago.”

“Five.” Marcus gathered the trick, thinking about Miss Locke’s words as they’d danced. She’d obviously shared her opinions with her brother. “I have my own reasons for forbidding her the dance.”

“You do?” His friend cut his eyes toward him, an eyebrow raised.

“Do not worry about it,” Marcus said, with a grunt of laughter. “I’m hardly attempting to suppress her.” He shook his head and played the Nine of Diamonds. “I actually feared I would never get her out of the house tonight. She was always timid, and Father’s death only made her more so. I’ve still to discover what threat Aunt Alexandra employed to make her leave her room this evening. Six.” He’d taken almost half the tricks. Perhaps he’d at least make thirty points in the hand. “Believe me, if she dances with anyone, I’ll be thrilled.”

“So you’re not trying to play the tyrant?” Ainsley pulled at his lower lip, staring into the fire.

“Why would I want to be a tyrant to my sister? Have you ever done so to yours?”

Ainsley barked a laugh so loud the ladies at the neighboring table all jumped. “Only if I wanted to find my throat cut with my own razor one morning. Kate’s more a tyrant than I’ll ever be.”

“I couldn’t disagree with that from what I’ve seen of her. Although I’m touched by her concern for Letitia.” The figure of Miss Locke during their earlier dance appeared in his memory, blue eyes snapping, mouth pursed in disdain. Or in expectation of a kiss? A shiver shot down his spine. Where the devil had that idea come from? His mouth was suddenly so dry it was hard to say, “Your play.”

“Jack of Diamonds. Ninety-five.”

Marcus stared at the remaining low cards in his hands and sighed. It was certainly going to be a long night.