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His eyes gleamed. “Let me know if they bother you and I’ll send them away.Allof them.”
The three men with me bristled. Harry stepped towards Dutch, his fists clenched at his sides.
Dutch glanced from Harry to me to Jonathon and chuckled. “Bainbridge. A word, if you will.” With an arm draped across Floyd’s shoulders, he steered my cousin to the table. He whispered in Floyd’s ear.
Floyd shoved Dutch’s arm off. “Not a chance.” His gaze flicked to me.
Dutch also looked at me. He crooked his finger, beckoning me.
Harry caught my arm. “Don’t go.”
“I have to see what he wants,” I said.
“You know what he wants.” Harry winced, as if it was painful just saying it.
I think I knew what Dutch wanted, but Harry’s concern confirmed it. Dutch wanted me.
Jonathon agreed with Harry, for once. “I’m taking you home, Cleo. This is no place for you.”
Harry’s grip on my arm tightened. His gaze didn’t waver from mine. Then he released me. “Take her,” he said to Jonathon. “Take Bainbridge too.”
Jonathon didn’t even bristle at being ordered by Harry. He must be concerned indeed.
It was too late for concern, however. Perhaps they were right and I should never have come, but now that I was here and I saw what Dutch wanted, a plan formed. It wasn’t even a risky plan, considering Harry was cheating to win.
“Do you want him to bellow it across the room?” I asked.
Before either one could stop me, I joined Dutch and Floyd at the table. Dutch smiled slyly. Floyd looked like he wanted to grab my hand and march me out. I made a point of staying further than arm’s length from him.
As I suspected, Dutch suggested Floyd play against him, excluding Harry altogether. That alone convinced me my plan would work. Dutch didn’t want Harry to play anymore because Harry was winning. Dutch knew Floyd would lose.
Dutch lifted a finger off the table and the dealer took it as a signal to pick up the deck of cards. Dutch then removed the tokens he’d won earlier and pocketed most of them. He suggested Harry loan ten to Floyd. “We have no need for more.”
“I don’t want to play,” Floyd whined.
“You will when you hear the stakes.”
Floyd rubbed the back of his neck and bit his lip, warring with himself. “Go on,” he finally said.
“If you win, I’ll wipe your debt.”
The small crowd that had gathered around the table gasped, sensing a spectacle.
“All of it?” I asked, pleased that I didn’t need to suggest the prize.
Dutch gave a shallow bow. “Of course. Now, if I win, the stakes must be equally appealing. What do you say to an evening with me, my dear little Fox?”
“No!” Floyd, Harry and Jonathon said in unison.
Dutch ignored them. He focused entirely on me. “Well?”
“I agree,” I said.
Jonathon swore. Floyd protested at the top of his voice. Harry merely lowered his head.
“On one condition,” I went on. “Mr. Armitage plays on Floyd’s behalf.”
Harry’s head jerked up. Instead of looking hopeful, he looked like his ship had sunk and he was adrift on a life raft without an oar.
