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“I don’t as a rule. I’m making an exception for you.”
Her cheeks pinked just slightly at his comment. Lady Masterson was really quite stunning. What a waste it was to have her wed to Masterson.
“Are you familiar with the laws of probability?” he asked.
“I don’t believe so.” Her dark eyes flashed at him, softening just slightly.
Well, that was progress, wasn’t it?
Usually by now, Leo would have invited a lovely creature such as Lady Masterson to have a drink with him before moving to one of the rooms on the second floor where they could indulge themselves. But Lady Masterson had an air of innocence about her, so at odds with her bold manner and decadent necklines. He instinctively knew she’d refuse him.
“The law of probability states that one must look at the total number of favorable outcomes divided by the number of possibilities one has.Thatis probability. It is how odds for all games of chance can be calculated.”
She nodded slowly. “I didn’t realize there was a course of study prescribed for gambling hell owners.” The tiniest tilt of her lips held him enthralled.
“Oh, there isn’t. I merely like numbers more than most.” Much more than most. Leo considered and calculated odds or strategies for nearly every possibility in his life. Except perhaps the appearance of Lady Masterson. She was rather unexpected.
“So, you know what the chance of rolling, say, a pair of sevens would be?” Intelligence gleamed from her eyes. “Or the cards I might hold in my hand if you are paying attention.”
Leo wanted to drag her off her stool and take her to his private quarters. He might not even bed her immediately but spend the evening in discussion. Few people grasped the concept of probability, and if they did, their interest in such a topic was limited. Professional gamblers mostly, but rarely anyone else.
His attraction to her increased, but this time it was her mind he wanted, something nearly as appealing as her bosom. “Yes.” Leo shifted, discreetly tugging at the edge of his coat to hide the erection tenting his trousers.
Lady Masterson didn’t notice. She did lean closer, however, her breasts nearly spilling from her bodice. “Explain how you do so, Mr. Murphy.”
* * *
Georgina Rutherford Masterson,reluctant wife of Earl Masterson, found Elysium to be marvelous. There wasn’t anything like the gambling hell in New York, at least that Georgina was aware of. Her elderly husband, Lord Masterson, after leading her to the faro table, had dropped her arm and disappeared upstairs, leaving her to face the sea of sharks on Elysium’s gaming floor alone. London society hadn’t been exactly welcoming to Georgina. In addition to being American, the Rutherford pedigree was a bit tattered, to say the least, which made everyone look down their patrician noses at her. Admittedly, Georgina’s blunt way of speaking, laced with the bitterness of being unfairly banished to London and wed to a gentleman three times her age, didn’t help matters. She supposed dressing somewhat flamboyantly didn’t endear her to anyone either. That particular bit of rebellion had followed her to London from New York and was now more habit than anything.
Luckily, Georgina possessed a backbone, one forged of steel. Her adored grandmother, upon seeing her off to London, had taken Georgina’s hand.
“You’ll survive, Georgie,” she had said. “But I doubt you’ll care for London. There’s a reason we fought a war or two to get them to leave us be. But you’ll survive until you can come home. Your behavior forced your father’s hand, though I know you didn’t ruin yourself. But actions have consequences. Remember that, Georgie, and act accordingly.”
Grandmother had died shortly after Georgina’s wedding to Masterson. Something else Georgina blamed her father for—that she hadn’t been with her grandmother at the end.
Learn to behave, Georgina, or else don’t come home.
Those were the last words her father, Jacob Rutherford, had said before leaving her in England. Georgina hadn’t wept. Or thrown a tantrum. She was made of sterner stuff. Accepting her marriage to the elderly earl had taken all her fortitude.
Forgiveness for her father might never come.
Not only was Masterson ancient, but he also had little interest in Georgina save her dowry. The consummation of their wedding night had been a humiliating experience, leaving both of them near tears. Masterson had barely succeeded in taking her virginity. If there hadn’t been a pinch of pain and blood on the sheets, Georgina wouldn’t have known anything out of the ordinary had happened. None of her curiosity about the act had been assuaged. John Winbow, the reason for her banishment, had claimed there was pleasure to be had between a man and woman.
I should have allowed him to ruin me. The result would have been the same.
Tonight, when Masterson had informed Georgina she was accompanying him to Elysium, Georgina had eagerly agreed. Entertaining callers and gossiping over tea, as most ladies were expected to do, held little interest. But she did like card games and had never been to a gambling hell. Elysium was notorious. And it was absolutely splendid. Decadent in unexpected ways. Her vision had been of a seedy, rundown building. A space much less lavish and well-appointed. Certainly not the grand, elegant mansion which had greeted her.
Elysium, all three stories, sat at the end of one of London’s older but still fashionable neighborhoods. The mansion was well hidden behind a circle of oak trees and surrounded by an expanse of lawn and manicured gardens. The interior was sumptuous, done in glistening dark colors that reminded Georgina of rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. Well-trained staff hovered only a step away, bringing refreshments to members and their guests. Delicious smells wafted out from the hall to her left where Masterson had told her members could dine. The chef was French. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling above her, bathing the gaming floor in a warm glow.
“Larkin here will take care of you, my dear,” her husband had said before leaving her to struggle her way through faro. “I’ve other matters to attend to. Try not to lose too much.”
The only card game Georgina had even the least bit of skill for was poker, a game not available at Elysium or probably anywhere except a river boat on the Mississippi.
Winbow came to mind, and she pushed him away. She should have known he’d wanted more than her virtue.
“Of course not, my lord,” she had answered her husband, but Masterson had already been moving away from her, his attention taken by a tall, lanky gentleman with large blue eyes and just the scruff of a beard. Probably about the same age as Georgina. The pair disappeared up a flight of steps to the second floor.
Georgina was not unaware of her husband’s habits. How could she be? The gossip greeted her at every function she’d had the misfortune to attend.
