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“At least I can trust you to keep score when we’re trying to concentrate on playing.”
Dorothy laughed.
“Do you not trust us to behave ourselves?”
“You know what I mean, dear. I don’t want a fight among the gentlemen because someone’s miscounting.”
Gabriel chuckled as he got to his feet.
“I don’t think you have to worry about us, Lady Derbyshire. We’re not as bad as you think.” He held out a hand to Dorothy. “My Lady.”
Rolling her eyes, Dorothy handed her book to Frederica and took his hand, allowing Gabriel to pull her upright. The expression in his eyes warmed, and he gave her hand a slight squeeze before leading her to the table. Dorothy happened to glance over as they started to walk and saw Dashwood had stood up and was glaring at them. More specifically, glaring at Gabriel. His hands were clenched into fists, and he looked ready to start a fight.
She put it to one side. Nothing for her to worry about.
A small part of her felt like she was lying.
The six players sat at the table, and Derbyshire put the pack of cards on the table by his wife’s hand. Giving her husband a smile, the marchioness got the cards out and shuffled them, her deft fingers moving the cards around so fast and easily Dorothy couldn’t take her eyes off the sight. Even she couldn’t manipulate cards like that.
“Right,” Lady Derbyshire looked around at the table. “Commerce. Everyone knows how to play that, don’t they?”
There were nods around the table. Lady Derbyshire handed the cards to her husband.
“You deal, darling. We’ll do ten hands and, hopefully, the rain will have eased off enough that we’re not stuck inside.”
“What are the bets?” Cowper asked, sitting to the marchioness’ left. “Are we betting with money?”
“I was thinking something a bit more fun.” Lady Derbyshire beckoned over the footman standing by the door. “Will you get the butterscotch? Mrs Higginbottom leaves them in the dresser by the kitchen.”
“Yes, My Lady.”
The footman left, and Baron Chadwick chuckled.
“Butterscotch sweets? Are you trying to fatten me up, Annabelle?”
“I don’t think you need that at all, dear Chadwick,” Lady Derbyshire said sweetly. “But I think it will be less dangerous than gambling with our money.”
“It probably will be more dangerous on our waistlines.” Gabriel leaned back and patted his belly. “Butterscotch is my weakness, so I might be getting it all.”
Dorothy swatted his arm.
“Don’t you dare salivate over the table. I don’t want to play with soggy cards.”
“Would I do that?”
“Yes!”
As the people around the table laughed, Dorothy caught sight of Dashwood. He was the only one who wasn’t laughing; his gaze focused on her. It sent a shiver down her spine, but not a bad one.
She pushed it away. Now was not the time to think about what was going on with her.
The footman returned with the tin of butterscotch, and they were all allocated the same amount of sweets. Then Derbyshire dealt out the cards, and they began to play. Dorothy was conservative with her game, not wanting to be too dominant.
She knew she was being a little cocky, but she liked it when she came out of nowhere and showed she could play just as well as any man, if not better. Only Gabriel knew how well she could play, so he was on his guard with her.
After the first two hands, Dorothy started to show the other players what she could do. It was a natural skill to learn how to read someone across the table, to know when they were bluffing or if they had a good hand. Dorothy liked to think she could guess which way it wasgoing.
If only she could bring that to people in real life.
