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“Nevertheless, the story has been set,” he added as we turned the corner. “And that is not even the half of it.”
“There is more?”
“Yes, it is said you are one of the secret doctors to the royal family, which is why there is talk of a knighthood.”
“What?” I nearly tripped on the side of the road. “The royal family? Who? When? How?”
“No one has cared to explain or clarify. The talk just grows and grows like a beast. Do you know what my mother has been saying lately?” He paused to look at me, full of amusement and shock. “How much of a waste it is that we did not engage you to my sister, Amity, before the marchioness stole you away for Lady Verity. She is cross with my father for making the connection between you all.”
I stared back and then laughed. Lady Fancot, his mother, wishing I had married her precious daughter? “The ton has gone mad.”
“Mad for you, Dr. Darrington.” He laughed, shaking his head as we walked on. “You are the prize of the ton.”
“I feel myself to be the fraud of the ton,” I muttered, nodding to yet another gentleman who passed by me.
“Well, you must continue the farce as we go into the heart of the lion’s den,” he said when we finally reached Black’s Gentlemen’s Club. I had left Everely only a week ago and spent time with my grandfather, waiting for the marchioness to send word for me. After several days staying out of sight, I was finally sent an invitation by the marquess to come here today.
They had not been hostile the previous time I had come here, as they knew the marquess to be my benefactor. I did not expect to notice a change in the way they looked at me when I entered, but it was undeniable.
“Theodore!”
That was another change—the marquess calling me by name from his gaming table as though I were his son or a close friend. Even Henry’s eyebrows rose.
I said nothing as I walked up to the table of Lord Bolen, Lord Hardinge, and Henry’s father, Lord Fancot.
“My lords,” I greeted them all.
“Bring up a chair. Do know I shall not go easy on you,” the marquess said to me, and before I could remind him that I did not partake in gaming, a footman had already brought another chair for me to sit at the table. The fact that one had not yet been offered to Henry was not lost on me. And the marquess himself gave me a look as if to say this offer was not to be rejected. So I took my seat as they dealt out a new hand of cards.
“I hear you have been granted a new estate,” Lord Hardinge said as he looked over his cards. “What is its production? Wheat or barley?”
“Cheese,” I answered, looking at the cards in my hand.
“Cheese is good, and the value of it grows. However, cows are fickle and take too much effort to keep,” Lord Bolen stated, folding his hand.
“Cows are not fickle. You are merely impatient.” The marquess snickered, then looked at me as he tossed a note into the center. “How many tenants?”
“About half a dozen or so,” I said, taking a card.
“Much too small. You should seek to improve those numbers. A good estate needs good tenants, and I tell that to Henry all the time, do I not?” Lord Fancot asked, looking to Henry right behind me before Lord Fancot threw a note into the center.
“I do not recall,” Henry replied, causing the man to glare.
“Well, you ought to recall. The running of an estate is just like a good game—if you are not paying attention or leave it all to luck, you very well might find yourself at a loss,” Lord Hardinge said, tossing his note in before revealing his hand. A grin spread across his lips as he looked at the marquess. “You cannot always win, my friend.”
“True, but today I shall.” The marquess revealed his hand as well, and his cards were much greater.
“Damn you.” They all chuckled before glancing at me.
“Do not feel bad. Somehow, he is blessed in both life and cards.” Lord Bolen rolled his eyes. “You shall lose to him often.”
“I do not believe I have lost,” I said, showing my own cards.
“What?” The marquess sat up and looked at the cards before me.
I tried not to smile. “I do not game, my lord, because I nearly gave my grandfather a heart attack after beating him and all his friends once as a child. He said I have an unnaturally blessed drawing hand.”
There was silence for a moment before the marquess broke out in laughter. Once more, he glanced back at me and shrugged.
“It seems that today is the day I take the loss,” he replied, his jaw clenching before his attention was taken by another man. He sat up and called out louder, “Sir Grisham, where are you going? And with no greeting. Have I offended you?”
