Proof by Seduction (Carhart #1)(79)

A soft murmur of surprise met this announcement. The other youths at the table turned their cards over in speculation. Ned’s mouth hung open. He was not yet able to form words. Jenny laid the cards faceup on the table for all to gawk at, and transferred Gareth’s penknife to her right hand.

“I don’t see it. How?” A voice to her left. The men surrounding her were lords and gentlemen, powerful, wealthy fellows who could have her thrown into the street with a single word. But she couldn’t let her uneasiness show.

Jenny flicked the blade open. “Like this.” She impaled Ned’s cards, stabbing the blade deep into the table.

Ned stared at the cards she’d pinned to the table, his mouth gaping. “Mada—I mean, Miss Keeble. What the devil are you doing here?”

Jenny put one hand on the knife handle. “What do you think I’m doing here? I’m scaring away your so-called friends.” She surveyed the other gamblers. They’d turned as white as gristle on a cut of meat. Doubtless the only time they’d seen a woman at the gambling table was when one was brought up as a form of entertainment. “Well? Scramble, unless you want to be next.”

As one, the men beside Ned scrambled. They left the table in a giant rush, retreating to huddle in the far corner of the hell like the rats that they were.

Jenny turned her attention back to Ned. “Now I’ve told you why I’m here. What are you doing here?”

“I—You—”

“Oh, don’t bother explaining. I already understand.”

He raised his chin. “You said you owed me, right? I want you to go away.”

Jenny sat on the table and pulled the knife from the surface. It took a bit of tugging to free the blade. The tool snapped shut with ease and Jenny dropped it in her pocket. “Unfortunately, Mr. Carhart, you don’t get to tell me how I pay my debts.”

She swiped a handful of cards off the table and shuffled through them. Good. There were enough. She flicked cards into a pile, facedown, and shoved it over to Ned. “Now you’re playing with me. There. That’s your hand.”

“But you looked at them!”

She had not thought beyond getting Ned alone. But she realized suddenly why Ned had sought out this game, and played for these high stakes. He wanted to frighten himself, to put so much at risk that he would snap to his senses. He was trying to fight the darkness that engulfed him.

Well. If Ned wanted a scare, Jenny would deliver.

“Ah, yes. I had nearly forgotten.” She rummaged through the remaining cards on the table until she found the right suit. She slapped the card on the table. “Diamond’s trump. Now are you going to wager or not?”

“No! This is ridiculous. It isn’t random. And you haven’t even dealt your own hand.”

“Ridiculous seems to be your style. Shall we set the pool at five thousand pounds, or is that too low?”

He slammed his fist on the table. His cards bounced. “I’m not in! I don’t want to play.”

“Suit yourself. I was only trying to be helpful.”

“Helpful! By cheating me and taking my money?”

“Yes,” Jenny said. “As you are no doubt aware, I excel at cheating and taking money. Besides, I owe you a debt. It seems you want to ruin your life in a melodramatic fit of pique. Why dribble the task out over weeks and weeks? I can help you accomplish your goal within the hour.”

“I don’t—I wasn’t—I can’t—”

“Oh, stop sputtering, Ned. It’s silly to deny what everyone can see. If you’re not trying to ruin your life to prove you’re in control of it, I don’t know what you’re doing.”

His lips pressed together.

“Five thousand pounds not enough for you, then? Blakely,” Jenny asked, “how much is Mr. Carhart here worth?”

“Blakely’s here?” Ned turned his head and saw his cousin standing behind him. He sighed and put his head in his hands.

Gareth’s expression shuttered. “Some eighty or ninety thousand, I believe. Maybe less after these last few days.”

Ninety thousand pounds? The figure was dizzying. With ninety thousand pounds, Jenny could shatter society’s requirements of respectability. She could invent a past, a family. She might even marry. She cast a glance at Gareth, and shook her head.

Not that he would have her, especially not if she stole the money from his cousin under his nose. Still.

Jenny swallowed this foolishness. “Simple rules. Five cards. Whoever wins more tricks takes the entire pool. You put in everything you have—some ninety thousand pounds. I wager…”

Jenny pushed away her uncertainty and reached behind the waistband of her skirt. It took a few moments to pull the small pouch of coins into her hand. It had seemed so light when she’d sold the dress just that morning. Now the sack weighed heavily in her hand. She upended it, and small change rolled about the table with a clatter.

“I wager sixteen pounds, five shillings.” And eight pence, although in the face of Ned’s wealth, there was hardly any need to mention those sad coins. If she did, she might let the two men who watched her with open mouths realize that all her wealth in the world was laid out in specie before them.

Sixteen pounds was a number Jenny understood. It fit inside her head, a sum she could hold in her hand. It was all it took for a shrewd woman to survive a quarter while she looked for other work. It was bread and cheese and the occasional apple for months. It was a roof over her head. It was three months spent trading kisses with Gareth while she tried to find an honest alternative to her former career. Sixteen pounds was Jenny’s last hope.