Lady Amelia's Mess and a Half (19 page)

Sir Davenport grinned at Jake. “I suspect you and Lord Andrew have a score to settle after the row I heard about at Brook’s.”

Jake shrugged and settled back in the crimson cushioned chair, ready to get on with matters.

“If you choose firearms, Lord Andrew will come out the victor,” Davenport said, nodding to Forest on his left. “You, Mr. Hillary, excel at fisticuffs, and you are equally matched at blades.”

Norwick, seated across from Davenport, sniggered. “They both swing their blades like ladies.”

“Don’t concern yourself with my
blade.
” Jake glared at the earl, playing his role admirably.

Davenport laughed and showed off brown teeth chipped away by age. “True gentlemen allow the cards to settle their differences.”

A waiter entered with a tray of tumblers and a decanter.

Davenport turned in his seat. “You may pour a brandy for my companions then leave the decanter on the sideboard.”

Forest picked up the deck sitting between him, and Davenport then absently flipped through the cards. Pushing the deck toward their host, Forest touched his eyebrow to signal to Jake that it was indeed marked.

Forest had been playing cards with Davenport and his marked deck in his private card room at The Den of Iniquity for the past three nights. Jake’s brother-in-law had made it clear earlier that he expected to recover his losses tonight. Playing the flat didn’t sit well with a gent accustomed to winning.

Fortunately, the odds were in their favor three to one. He, Norwick, and Forest would split the pot at the end of the night. But first they must play with an honest deck.

Davenport shuffled the cards. “Shall we play loo, gentlemen?” Without waiting for consent, he began stacking chips and pushing them to each player. “Thirty chips worth twenty pounds apiece. Or is that too rich for your tastes, Mr. Hillary?”

Jake picked up the stack and tested its weight in his palm. “Make it one hundred pounds a chip and you’ve sparked my interest.”

Davenport’s eyes lit like a child’s in a sweet shop. “One hundred it is.” He glanced at Forest and Norwick. “Gentlemen?”

An insolent smile spread across Forest’s face. “I’ll gladly pay such a steep price to see Mr. Hillary weep like a baby.”

The smug lift of one corner of Davenport’s mouth indicated he expected victory. “Lord Norwick, are you in?”

“Nothing would bring me more pleasure, sir.”

The earl’s cold stare seemed lost on Davenport. “Splendid.”

They cut to see who would act as the first dealer. Davenport naturally had the lowest card and earned the honor. “Ante in, gentlemen.”

Jake tossed three chips in the middle as did everyone else.

Davenport flicked the cards around the circle with speed and efficiency then turned over the trump card. “Spades it is.”

Jake fanned out his cards. Nothing but red. And his highest card was a ten.

“I’ll play,” Forest said and tossed two more chips into the pot.

“Not me.” Norwick laid his cards face down on the table. “I fold.”

Jake matched Forest’s two hundred pounds and tossed his cards toward Davenport. “Give me a new hand.” His new cards were just as useless.

Davenport won two thirds of the pot. Play continued with Davenport taking the majority of the stake the first hour. If one had no knowledge of his cheating, one might be impressed with his intuition. Davenport knew exactly when to fold and when to press the bet.

“Gentlemen, it appears my good fortune is holding out,” he said as he raked his winning chips from the middle.

Forest drummed his fingers against the table before snatching up the deck and shuffling. This was Jake’s cue to change the game’s course.

Pulling at his cravat, Jake bolted from his seat. “I need another drink.” At the sideboard, he looked back over his shoulder. “Would anyone else care for a refill?”

Forest lifted his empty glass in salute.

Jake left the crystal bottle stopper lying on the sideboard and carried the open decanter back to the table. As he neared, he pretended to trip on Davenport’s chair leg then unintentionally rammed against the table, losing control of his actions. The brandy sloshed from the decanter, splattered all over the cards, and doused Forest. Jake pressed his lips together to stop the burst of laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“Hell’s teeth!” Forest leapt from his chair and ripped a handkerchief from his jacket to blot at the spirits soaking into his waistcoat. “You bloody idiot. Your sister will think I’m foxed.”

Sir Davenport slammed his fist against the table. “Forget about your wife. Look at my cards. They’re ruined.”

“No need to go into hysterics,” Norwick said as he reached inside his jacket. “I carry a deck on my person.”

Davenport’s eyes narrowed when the earl slapped down the deck. “If it’s all the same to you, I will call for another from the house.”

“What are you implying?” Norwick leaned forward, his head dropped in challenge. “There’s nothing wrong with my deck. Only cowards cheat.”

Davenport stiffened, his eyes darting to Forest, Jake, and then the exit.

Forest clapped a hand on Davenport’s shoulder to push him down in his seat when it appeared he might run. “Davenport’s not a coward or a cheat, Norwick, so let’s continue our game. Pass the deck.” He took the cards from his friend and held them out to Davenport. “Inspect them to be certain.”

He accepted the deck with a frown, rifled through the cards, and then passed them back with a shaky hand. “E-everything appears aboveboard.”

“Grand.” Jake scooped up the soggy cards and carried them back to the sideboard along with the empty decanter.

When he returned to his place at the table, Forest was dealing the next hand. Jake’s chips made a dull clink against the other chips when he threw his ante on the pile.

“Queen of hearts,” Forest said when he turned up the top card.

Jake peered at his hand. He had the ace of hearts, jack of hearts, and a spaded knave. He would at least win a third of the pot this hand.

Norwick decided to play the cards dealt and raised the bet by three hundred pounds.

“I’ll see your three hundred and raise another two,” Jake said.

All of them looked to Davenport. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I-I fold.”

Playing it safe became Davenport’s strategy, and he folded the next four hands.
Hellfire
and
damnation
. They could be here all night chipping away at his winnings.

Forest pushed away from the table after a fifth round passed with Davenport folding each hand. “Pardon me, gentlemen, I feel the need to stretch. Sir Davenport requires a moment, too.”

He grabbed the man’s arm and hauled him from the chair. Davenport squealed and scrambled to keep his footing. Huddled in the corner, Forest’s angry whispers carried across the room. “You led me to believe you’re an expert at loo. What are you about?”

Davenport’s mumbled response was impossible to decipher.

“Well, get in the game. I want my pound of flesh as promised.”

When they were seated once again, the game resumed. Jake didn’t bother holding back a grin when he took the entire pot that round.

Davenport’s play continued to be conservative, and though he won a portion of the round on occasion, his chips dwindled at a faster rate. When he was left with two chips, he picked them up and rubbed them together. “P-perhaps we should end our evening, gentlemen. My coach will be calling in half an hour.”

Jake allowed shock to show in his expression. “Sir Davenport, you’ve lost close to three thousand pounds this evening. Don’t you wish for a chance to win back your blunt?”

Davenport swallowed, his eyes bulging. “Three thousand pounds?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.

Jake pushed all of his chips into the middle. “Play me for my entire winnings. One hand for five thousand pounds.”

Forest grunted in disapproval. This wasn’t part of his plan, but Jake had his own version to execute. He focused on Davenport.

“But I don’t have five thousand pounds to match your bet, Mr. Hillary.”

“Perhaps there is something else you can offer.” He leaned forward, his face hard. “My five thousand pounds to your renewed support for the foundling hospital renovation. If I win the hand, you instruct your brother to approve the renovation.”

Davenport shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Very well,” Jake said, slouching on the chair. “I’ll call on you tomorrow to collect. You do have three thousand pounds at your disposal, do you not?”

Sweat appeared on the man’s forehead, and his face flushed pink. “Of course I have the funds. But it may take a while to-to gather that amount.”

Jake waved his hand. “Don’t worry overmuch about the money.”

“Truly, sir?”

“Please, don’t give it another thought.”

Davenport wilted upon his chair. “Mr. Hillary, you are too kind—”

“I’m certain you have belongings of equal value in the home. Perhaps a piece of Lady Davenport’s jewelry. I will require an appraisal, of course, but we shall find a way to settle your debt. I imagine your wife can advise me on which piece she believes is worth the amount you owe. I’ll come by when Lady Davenport is receiving callers tomorrow.”

“No!” Davenport jumped to his feet. “Please, you cannot intrude on Lady Davenport and her guests.”

“Then what do you propose, Sir Davenport?” Forest said. “Mr. Hillary’s offer sounds more than generous to me.”

“I suppose I could improve upon the offer.” Jake looked to his brother-in-law. “How much did you lose to Sir Davenport?”

“Four hundred pounds.”

He blinked. “Four hundred? Does Lana know?”

“I intended to recover my losses,” Forest said through clenched teeth.

“There’s no need to get in a temper.” Jake returned his attention to Davenport. “Let’s forget about playing another hand. You ensure the renovation is approved, and I’ll return two thousand pounds to you. Your wife will never know you almost lost her property.”

“Wait one moment,” Norwick said. “I’d like to add something to the negotiations.”

Jake gestured to the earl. “By all means. Please, say your piece.”

“Not only will you make certain the renovation goes forward, you’ll escort your wife to a dinner my sister will be hosting in a show of support for the project.”

“Lady Banner is hosting a dinner in honor of the renovation?” Forest asked. “I was unaware she held such good intentions.”

“As is she,” Norwick said.

Davenport shrugged off his jacket. Sweat rolled down his face and soaked into his cravat. “Lady Davenport will be furious if I go back on my word.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Will she be pleased when I arrive on the morrow to collect her jewelry?”

Davenport shook his head. He looked as if he might burst into tears at any moment.

Forest stood and slapped his back. “Davie here is no henpecked husband, if that’s your meaning. He’s a man of influence, power. He isn’t one to be dominated by the fairer gender. Tell him, Davenport.”

The man glanced up at Forest. “N-no. I’m not.”

Moving behind his seat, Forest grabbed Davenport’s shoulders. “Ol’ Davenport is going to march into
his
home and remind
his
lady wife that
he
makes the decisions. No clinging to the skirts for this fellow.”

“Yes,” Davenport said in a voice growing stronger. “It
is
my house. I won’t cling to the lady’s skirts.”

A mischievous glint in Forest’s eye spoke of his devilish side. “Why, Davenport will tell his wife just how it’s going to be from now on. She will do
his
bidding, submit to
his
wishes.”

“Yes, she will.”

“He’ll not have it any other way.”

Davenport hammered his fist against the table and rose from his chair. “No, I won’t. Martha is going to listen to me for once. And by God, she
will
honor her wifely duties, or else.”

Forest balked. “After you woo her, of course.”

“Well, yes,” Davenport agreed, peering at his companion. “I suppose wooing is important?”

“Immensely,” Jake said. “You may wish to start with a bath.”

Forest sniffed the man and drew back. “Egads.” He put distance between him and Davenport. “Brilliant suggestion. Listen to Hillary. And you mustn’t forget to compliment Lady Davenport.”

“On what?”

“Why, on her hair and eyes. They are her most pleasing features.”

Jake nodded. “Bring her flowers at least once a week, then a trinket on anniversaries.”

“And be gentle,” Norwick said. “No need to rush in like a Norman storming a castle.”

Davenport’s head swung to each of them as they spoke. “Should I be writing this down?”

“Perhaps,” Forest said, unable to hold back a grin.