AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Aoife dealt. Cal waited until MacDonald looked at his cards before he pretended to glance at his own. Instead, he directed his attention under the table.
MacDonald’s foot was still. A good hand then.
MacDonald passed on another card. Cal looked at his own cards then. He had a five and a four.
He tapped the table.
The next card he turned over was a six.
MacDonald’s foot didn’t move.
Fifteen wouldn’t win him this game, but anything over a six would lose it. He’d been dealt three low cards. The odds were not in his favor of another.
He needed another six. But what were the chances he’d be given two in a row?
“Mr. Kelly?” Aoife tapped the cards. “Another?”
MacDonald looked at him then. His face was carefully blank, but there was just the slightest hint of color in his cheeks. The game excited him as well. Cal could all but guarantee MacDonald’s heart was pounding as fast as his own. MacDonald was a gambler, and that made him dangerous. This wasn’t the sort of man who would give up if the stakes were too high. He would see his plans through, even if it meant he’d die in the act.
And if those plans were to gain Irish independence through violence towards England, as Baron seemed to think, England would see violence.
Cal looked back at his cards. Fifteen. He tapped the table. “Another, Aoife.”
She slid it to him, and he lifted the corner, surprised his hands were so steady when the rest of his body felt as though it were jumping. He took a breath, looked at the card, and lowered the card.
A five.
It might have been worse. A lot worse. It might have been a seven or a nine or a face card. But Cal almost wished it had been any of those because if he were to lose, he’d rather lose big.
“Mr. Kelly?” Aoife asked.
“I call,” Cal said, knowing he’d lost. MacDonald was too still. He had to have twenty-one.
Cal flipped his cards over, showing his twenty. MacDonald did the same, and Cal stared. MacDonald had a king and a queen. They were tied at twenty.
“Sure and we’ll play another hand,” Cal said. He didn’t want to admit, even to himself, how much he ached to play another hand.
And another.
MacDonald rubbed his eyes. If the gesture wasn’t for show Cal was secretly the Duke of Devonshire. “It’s late. What do you say to Aoife shuffling once more and dealing us each one more card? Closest to vingt-et-un wins.”
Cal sat back. “One or both of us will go over.”
“Twenty-three beats twenty-five. Twenty-five beats twenty-seven. Whoever is closest to twenty-one.”
It was unconventional, but Cal liked the risk involved. One card. One last chance would decide it all.
He nodded.
“Shuffle again, Aoife.”
Cal could feel MacDonald’s eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on Aoife. This could all be an elaborate cheat. But Cal had been cheating since he was born. If she tried sleight of hand, he would see it.
She shuffled expertly but with no tricks. Then she laid two cards before her, not giving them to either man. “Pick your card,” she said.
Clever, Cal thought. The advantage was in choosing first, but he would have to give it to MacDonald. “It’s me pub. You choose first.”
“It was my game, Mr. Kelly. I insist you choose.”
