My Once and Future Duke (The Wagers of Sin #1)(91)

Any flicker of hope she had that there was some incredible misunderstanding died in a burst of flame. “You must pardon me, sir. I am already engaged at the moment,” she said acidly, hoping the double meaning of that word hit him in the head. “My companion will be returning soon, and I wish to continue my game of piquet with him.”

“You mean Hamilton?” Jack leaned forward, resting one elbow on the table. His eyes were such a soft blue, she had to look away. “He won’t be back.”

“What?” She looked past him in angry alarm. “Why not? What did you do to him?”

“Nothing. Philip’s having a word with him.” He reached for the deck of cards in the center of the table. “Play a hand with me instead.” He glanced at her. “I was told it’s what people do here.”

Her face felt hot. “Not with me.”

“Why not?” He cut the cards and shuffled. “I’ve been practicing. I shan’t lose every hand this time.”

She bared her teeth in a smile. “You know very well why not.”

“Oh?” He shuffled the cards again, his enigmatic gaze fixed on her. “Do explain.”

Sophie was having a hard time keeping her temper. It was bad enough that she had to see him here, where she needed to be but he came for no apparent purpose. It was awful enough that she had to imagine him with his bride, some lovely, elegant creature of a rank and family fitting to be a duchess. She could not sit across from him and pretend none of that mattered, that he hadn’t driven a spike through her heart.

She couldn’t take it, not now. “Mr. Dashwood explicitly warned me against associating with you, Your Grace.” She bit out the honorific, trying to remind him of his place. Of her place.

“Did he?” He nodded sagely. “Dashwood warned me about you, as well. But he shan’t interfere this time. Don’t worry, you won’t lose your membership for playing a hand with me.”

She was going to do something unpardonable in a moment—-fly into a shrieking fit, snatch the cards and throw them into his face, even burst into tears. “Go away,” she said, enunciating every word. “Please.”

“Why?”

“Because this isn’t a decent place for a man of your stature,” she said in the same low, hard voice.

He glanced over his shoulder. “There is an earl playing hazard at this moment, if it matters that much to you.”

She pressed her fingertips to the bridge of her nose. “Please.”

“Sophie.” He spoke softly. “Let me explain. I know what you heard—-”

“Jack,” she said wearily, “it’s over. It’s for the best.”

He exhaled. “Then play.” With surprising dexterity, he dealt a hand of piquet.

“Not tonight.” She pushed back her chair and rose. Where had Mr. Hamilton gone? There must be someone she knew close by who would rescue her. Perhaps tonight was the night she should bring Giles Carter up to scratch; she didn’t love him, but he was a good man. Perhaps that was what she needed—-a sharp clean break from this ill--fated, doomed love she’d developed for the Duke of Ware. Filling her thoughts and time planning a life as Mrs. Carter would distract her. It had to. Nothing else had, but if she married Giles, she would force herself to think only of him, to throw herself into making herself care for him. She would firmly block every thought about the Duke of Ware and the way he’d once kissed her and laughed with her and made her knees go utterly weak with desire.

Jack laid a stack of markers on the table. “I stake five thousand pounds on this hand.”

Her stomach dropped at the amount. He’d wagered that huge sum once before, and she’d lost—-not just the wager but her heart, in the end.

“If you win, it will be a wedding gift,” he went on, “enough to set you up quite nicely with Carter or some other chap, as you’d be a wealthy woman and sure to have several suitors.”

Sophie knew she should walk away, but somehow when she opened her mouth to say so, instead she asked, “Against what?”

He leaned forward. His hair was burnished gold in the chandelier light. “If I win . . . you’ll marry me instead, as you promised.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. How dare he? He was going to marry Lady Lucinda Afton. Georgiana and Philip had told her so.

“Do you agree to the wager?” he prompted.

She stared at the cards, then at him. He had hurt her and lied to her, and now he treated the entire thing as a game. Very well—-she could do the same. Piquet was a challenging game, and she knew he didn’t play often. After the night of intense joy followed by a day of crushing heartbreak, she deserved to win five thousand pounds from him. She sat down and reached for the cards. “Only a fool would wager on marriage, but if you’re foolish enough to risk five thousand, I’ll be pleased to win it from you.” She inspected her deal. “I have carte blanche, and I will exchange five.”

Jack nodded once. “I am indeed a fool. I should have mentioned Lucinda sooner—-”

Sophie didn’t even want to hear the other woman’s name. “How many cards are you exchanging?”

He exhaled. “Three.”

“I suppose you didn’t mention her sooner for fear I would refuse to have an affair with an engaged man. You were correct.” Sophie flipped her cards quickly onto the table, just long enough for him to see she did have carte blanche, then scooped her hand back up. She was already ten points in the lead, simply by having no court cards.