Dreaming of You (The Gamblers #2)(90)

“Oh, dear.” Sara had smiled in sympathetic amusement. “He was drinking quite a bit?”

“Blue ruin,” Worthy had confirmed. “But ever since he returned, knowing you were going to be his wife…well, he’s been a different man. You bring out the best in him. He is determined to be a good husband to you—and he never fails, once he decides to accomplish something.”

Just then Derek had managed to coax Katie into a sedate waltz, the pair of them circling the corner of the ballroom with great dignity. “You don’t have to convince me of that,” Sara had remarked, her eyes gleaming with laughter.

Since the wedding Worthy had done all that was possible to make her comfortable at the club and afford her time and privacy with Derek. The servants were irreproachable in their goodwill and efficiency. Whatever she needed was provided almost before she could ask for it. When she was in the vicinity of the club patrons, Worthy or Gill hovered protectively nearby, ensuring that she was safe from any improper advances.

As another roll of the dice caused the group at the hazard table to murmur excitedly, Sara leaned closer to the factotum. “What’s happening?” she asked.

“Lord Alvanley is at the hazard table, playing very deep. He tends to spend large amounts and run up heavy losses. Naturally he is a great favorite of Mr. Craven’s.”

“Naturally,” Sara repeated wryly. No wonder Derek was following the game closely. Derek’s presence tended to encourage spending at the tables, almost as if the players wished to impress him by throwing around their wealth.

“Is there something you require, Mrs. Craven?” Worthy asked.

She shrugged slightly, watching Derek. “I was just wondering…do you think it will be very long before the game is over?”

Worthy followed her gaze. “I’ll go and ask him. Wait right here, Mrs. Craven.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t bother him…” Sara began, but he was already gone.

While the factotum made his way to the hazard table, some of the house wenches approached her, led by Tabitha. Although Sara and Tabitha had tacitly agreed never to mention their meeting in Greenwood Corners, the girl seemed to feel partially responsible for Sara’s good fortune. She had thanked Sara for not “turning her nose up” at all the house wenches after becoming Derek’s wife. “Ye’re a fine, gracious lady,” she had told Sara, “just like I said you was.”

This evening the three house wenches came up to Sara, all of them dressed in brightly spangled finery. Sara greeted them pleasantly.

“ ’Tis a slow night,” Tabitha commented, sticking a hip out and resting her hand on it as she eyed the assortment of soldiers, aristocrats, and diplomats. “Always is when the play’s deep. But after, they rush for the nearest wench, an’ sometimes pay double for a flier.”

“You’d better take care to ’ide yourself when the game’s done,” Violet advised Sara sagely. “Mr. Craven would blow up good, were another man to try an’ riddle you.”

“I’m just waiting for Mr. Worthy to return—” Sara began, but Tabitha interrupted with a gusty laugh.

“I’ve a notion to bull-bait yer ’usband, Mrs. Crawen, an’ show ’im why a man should keep close to ’is wife’s bed at night.”

Sara shook her head in confusion. “I don’t know what you mean, Tabitha. But I won’t participate in any attempts to trick Mr. Craven, especially not in front of his friends…no…really…”

Laughing merrily, bent on mischief, the house wenches dragged her with them to the hazard table. They took care to keep her concealed in their midst. “Mr. Crawen,” Tabitha said casually, “we brung a new girl for ye to try out. She’s been waiting to give ye a little knock.”

Eyebrows were raised and a few glances exchanged across the table, for the prostitutes usually knew better than to intrude on a game.

Derek gave Tabitha a quizzical frown. “Tell her I don’t tumble the house wenches.” He turned away dismissively.

Tabitha persisted with glee. “But she’s a nice, fresh one. Why don’t you take a look?” Giggling, the wenches brought Sara forth. She was flushing and protesting, trying to remove the spangled tuft of plumes they had tucked behind her ear.

Derek laughed suddenly, his expression lightening. He pulled Sara into the crook of his arm. “This one I’ll take,” he murmured, bending to kiss her temple.

Pausing in the middle of the game, Lord Alvanley inquired as to the identity of the newcomer. When informed that she was Craven’s new bride, Alvanley temporarily deserted his position at the hazard table. The crowd of men watched in amusement as he approached Sara. “My sincerest compliments, Mrs. Craven.” Alvanley bowed over her hand and addressed Derek languidly. “You don’t have the intelligence I suspected, Craven, if you choose to leave such a pretty creature waiting upstairs in favor of our boorish company.”

Derek grinned and bowed in acknowledgment. “At Your Lordship’s advice, I’ll oblige my wife and retire for the evening.” He eased Sara through the crowd and walked away with her.

A rumble of masculine laughter and off-color comments accompanied their exit. “There’s a mannerly fellow!”…“Oblige her once for me, Craven!”

Red as a beet, Sara apologized as they entered the hall. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t intend to take you away. Worthy said the game was important…Please, you must go back and attend it.”