He could have stood beside her and offered support if others attempted to shun her. Except, his reputation could have harmed her as well, or his may have improved. Instead, he had turned his back on Frances and she had been alone when she had faced the dragons of the ton.

  “While my sisters, cousin and I do well in our needlework, we are not nearly as talented to be a proper seamstress and it was noted.”

  She passed the cards to him. “You should shuffle as well.”

  He picked them up, uncomfortable with this conversation, mainly because it filled him with guilt.

  “My aunt offered some of her older gowns as well, and not so far out of fashion, so they were altered for my sister and cousin since they were the ones my uncle hoped would marry quickly.”

  “Not you?” he asked.

  “I was too close to the shelf already, or I assume those were his reasons for wanting Hope and Bryn to have a Season. He was also their guardian and their presentation would reflect poorly on him whereas I had reached my majority.”

  “It still is not right,” Seth argued.

  “Sometimes difficult decisions must be made when one is poor,” she answered. “Yet, despite the attempts of others to humiliate, I took pride in the fact that I had made do and held my chin high.”

  Seth fought the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth in admiration. He had no doubt that outwardly Frances held her ground and likely stared down anyone who would criticize her.

  Frances held out her hand and he placed the cards in her palm. She then took the top card, a two of clubs, which he committed to memory as she placed it at the bottom of the deck as the burnt card and set the cards aside.

  “Place your bet.” As she was dealing first, only Seth would be betting, but she would still pay him if she lost as if she were the dealer for the gambling establishment. Then it would be his turn to deal. This was how the play had commenced on those rainy afternoons in the cottage. He would bring his collection of ha’pennies and divide them so they both had something to play with, but she never kept her winnings. Instead, they were kept in a jar at the cottage to be used for betting the next time.

  When he left that final day, he never took his jar of coins and wondered if Frances had kept it.

  Seth looked at his funds, and selected a sovereign then placed it in front of him. As he was not certain how this night may develop, he was not going to make any large bets, though she had the same amount of money in front of her.

  Frances dealt a card face down to him and then herself. Then dealt Seth a second card face down and the same to herself. Then, before she could look at her cards, he turned his over to reveal a ten and an ace, or twenty-one.

  She flipped hers, which were a six and a five, then paid him double his bet. Frances lifted the four used cards from the table and set them aside as Seth picked up the cards. She then placed her bet in front of her before Seth dealt the cards in the same manner that she had. After there were two in front of her, she looked.

  “Are you content?” Seth asked.

  She wanted to answer no, and she had not been since he had left her, but he was truly asking if she was happy with her cards—a nine and a six or fifteen.

  “No.”

  Seth dealt her third card, face up, which was an eight, giving her twenty-two. “I have overdrawn.” She then turned her cards over for him to see and slid her bet across to Seth. He then turned his over, which was a total of only fourteen, but there was no reason for him to draw a third to try for twenty-one because he had already won.

  Play continued in the same manner. Frances took more risks than she normally would have, but she also hoped to lose.

  After they had depleted the cards in the deck, Seth picked them up to shuffle again. It may have seemed like they had been sitting here for hours, but each hand did not take long, especially when the maths only required a person to count from one to twenty-one.

  She glanced across the room. Bethany, Tessa, and His Grace were still seated and watching, but Frances made certain to speak in a quiet tone so that they could not hear what was being said.

  “Did you know that my uncle Edmund was a confirmed bachelor, with no intention of ever marrying?”

  “But he did when you were…ten and seven, did he not?”

  “It was because he needed an heiress,” she stated. “They are miserable. He needed her money and someone to guide us. She had been an unhappy spinster, happy to dictate. Unfortunately, what she brought to the family was not near enough to get us out of debt, which made it impossible for me to ever have a Season,” Frances explained. “As for my new aunt, well, she complained to her father that she was not living in the style that she had been accustomed to and was denied the most current fashions and jewels for the Season. Her father, in turn, provided his daughter with everything she requested, happy that she had finally wed, despite the reasons, but could not assist the rest of us.”

  “I am sorry for that.”

  “I was a poor relation until I gained access to the gaming tables at entertainments,” she explained as she took the cards from him. Whenever they had played in the past, both shuffled the cards before beginning play. “I can now afford not only to purchase what I wish, but outfit my sisters and cousin, and support my brother. I do not rely on my uncle and I do not want my aunt anywhere near my funds or making decisions. So yes, Seth, I learned much from you. I learned the importance of financial security over friendship and love.”

  “You sought your own fortune,” he acknowledged.

  “That first Season I was allowed enough pin money to purchase gloves and shoes and those items that I was unable to use from previous generations.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “Or that is what I explained to my uncle. I did use my mother’s gloves, fans and even slippers, but he was none the wiser. My goal had been to have funds of my own if they became necessary. I believe my total purchases that first Season were three ribbons. I kept the remainder of the pin money with me always because one never knows what opportunities may arise, nor did I want my uncle to discover that I had not spent what he provided.” Frances could not help her smile at the memory. “Then one evening I wandered into the card room, quite by mistake, and noted that women also played, not just gentlemen.”

  “You risked your few funds in a game of chance?” he asked in surprise. “Was that not reckless?”

  “Perhaps,” she answered. “But I remembered your lessons from those long-ago rainy afternoons at the cottage and decided to see how I fared. If I lost, I would never gamble again.”

  She returned the cards to Seth as it was his turn to deal. “I did quite well that night. I would have done better had my partner been more attentive to her cards.” She shrugged. “After that evening, I would visit the card room at whatever ball or entertainment that I was attending. If women were playing, I would remain. I studied and learned and once I determined who played well and who played poorly, I took a seat at the table when a partner was required but chose very carefully.”

  “You could not have won a fortune playing cards at balls,” he argued.

  “I did very well that first year, and the following. When it was determined that I was either skilled or very lucky, more and more gentlemen wished to sit at the same table as I because they were certain a mere woman would not win against them.”

  “Gentlemen do not like being bested by a woman.” He chuckled. “Did you ever lose?”

  “Of course,” she answered. “If the night was going poorly, I would leave and return to the ball or entertainment because I never sit down at a table with more than I am willing to lose.” She looked up, meeting his eyes. “Not even tonight, Seth.”

  He studied her as he picked up his brandy and took a sip. It was the first time either of them had drunk since their game began. Frances never drank while playing cards because she needed a clear head and rational mind.

  “I did have better luck playing against gentlemen.” She folded her arms before her on the table and leaned forward, knowing that such a position revealed the swell of her breasts pressed against her bodice to nearly overflowing, then played with the small emerald that dangled from her neck and usually lay nestled at top of her cleavage.

  For a moment Seth stared at what she revealed, then looked up, meeting her eyes. They had grown darker.

  “However, I am certain that you are not so easily distracted as they were.” With those words, Frances straightened.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  In that moment, Seth was torn between admiration for the woman Frances had become and missing the girl she had been and took full blame for the transition.

  His mouth had grown dry when she intentionally leaned forward in a manner that forced her breasts higher and wondered how many times she had used such a ploy while gambling against other men. No wonder she successfully won hands.

  However, as the game progressed, Seth could not help but note the cold determination in her eyes and chill in her voice. She was not the woman he had left five years ago, or the woman he had been coming to know these past weeks. That woman had been loving, a friend, kind—not the cold mercenary who sat across from him now.

  Play continued and Frances won some hands but lost more and with each turn of a card, her funds dwindled further. They had gone through two-thirds of the deck, but the game would be over before they played all the cards.

  Had she intended on winning and became bitter because it was likely she would lose everything to him?

  He could intentionally lose just to prolong the game, but it went against everything within him to do so, therefore, it was time to bring the game to an end, assuming he would win.

  On her deal, the bet he placed was the exact amount that Frances had left.

  She raised an eyebrow then nodded before dealing the cards.

  Seth held his breath as he looked at his two cards. It was the same as the first hand that had been dealt to him—a ten and an ace, or twenty-one. He flipped them over. Frances simply nodded and turned her own cards over. A ten and an eight then slid what remained of her funds to him.

  In any other circumstance, Seth would be thrilled to have had such a successful night at the tables. Except, tonight he had won everything from Frances that she was willing to lose.

  Blast!

  He should never have played her. It had only put distance between them and he had hoped to soon propose. She would never want to see him again after tonight.

  He should have thought this through and lost, intentionally if necessary, then she would have ended the night with twice as much as he began with.

  “I am sorry,” he finally said.

  “Why?”

  “You lost.”

  “I knew the risk,” she answered and seemed almost relaxed. Maybe she was glad for their contest to be over.

  Seth reached for the remaining cards, but Frances stopped him by placing a hand over his.

  “What?” he asked.

  “One more wager?”

  “You are out of money,” he reminded her.

  Frances toyed with the emerald around her neck. Was she willing to risk it in a hand of cards? She said she never wagered more than she was willing to lose, and he assumed that included jewelry.

  She then smiled and reached beneath the table and Seth could hear the rustling of her skirt, though he could not imagine what she was doing until she emerged and placed an emerald garter in the middle of the table. All he could do was stare at it, his mouth going dry, knowing that it had caressed her thigh, just as he would like to do.

  “My emerald garter for yours.”

  His eyes widened as he stared at the garter. “You wish me to wager my club against a piece of fabric?”

  Frances leaned forward, arms crossed and braced on the table as she had done earlier, the creamy swell of her breasts once again on display and cradling the delicate emerald.

  “Not just the garter, Seth, but me, for a night, to do with me what you wish.”

  She couldn’t possibly mean… “Your virtue?” he choked.

  “Is worthless as I will never wed, yet valuable enough to wager.”

  His mouth went dry.

  Did he dare risk his club for the chance to finally bed Frances?

  It was a foolish bet, yet his luck had held tonight whereas she had not been as successful.

  I never sit down at a table with more than I am willing to lose. Not even tonight, Seth. Certainly, Frances had not planned on wagering such before she arrived, had she?

  Did he dare risk his club?

  “It is your deal,” she reminded him.

  Seth swallowed against the lump in his throat. He wanted her like he had never wanted any other woman, but he also hoped to marry her, which meant that he would eventually have her in his bed.

  Except, he had not yet asked, and she also may decline when he did.

  His gambling establishment wagered against what may be the only opportunity to have her.

  He would not lose. Her luck would not change now, not after she had lost nearly everything. “I accept your wager.”

  Seth dealt her a card, face down, then one for himself, and another for her, then him.

  Frances lifted the corners to see what she held.

  “Are you content?”

  “Another please.”

  Seth dealt her a third card, face up, an ace, which could be one or eleven.

  “Are you content?” he asked again.

  Instead of answering, Frances took her garter and placed it on top of her cards.

  Now it was his turn. The first card he turned over was a ten and the second was a nine. She could only beat him if she had twenty or twenty-one and with an ace showing, it was unlikely.

  He watched intently as she turned the first card over, a nine, giving Frances a ten or twenty depending on if she needed the ace to be one or eleven.

  The corners of her mouth tipped as she slowly flipped the last card—an ace, giving her twenty-one, which beat his nineteen.

  He had just lost his The Emerald Garter on the turn of a card.

  His source of income was gone. Yes, he had money in the bank but the club had been his dream, his independence from his father. Now he had nothing.

  Never wager more than you are willing to lose.

  Those words would haunt him for the rest of his days.

  She said nothing, and Seth was speechless as he reviewed each hand they played tonight, her losses and odd win. Her luck had been poor, but Seth had assumed she only remained out of pride, or truly did not mind the amount she had lost to him.

  He now suspected that she had been playing an entirely different game with him.

  “You let me win earlier and lost intentionally until all of your funds were depleted,” he accused, but not angry.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “Luck in the beginning and foolish risks, but with each card played it was easier to calculate the odds of what would be turned by knowing what remained in the deck,” she answered.

  “You memorized each card played?” Seth asked in disbelief.

  “Yes.”

  “When did you start doing so?”

  “I always have,” she answered. “It is a gift, I suppose, but I have always remembered cards played and calculated odds, once I knew the rules of the game.”

  It was not possible. “I won too often at the cottage for that to be true.”

  Frances simply stared him in the eye, unflinching.

  She was telling him the truth. No wonder she had done so well gambling at balls and entertainments. “Why let me win then? It would not have mattered.” It had been just the two of them in the cottage.

  “Your pride,” she answered simply. “I enjoyed playing the games with you and did not want you to stop or become angry if you knew.”

  “You lied,” he said flatly.

  “I did not consider it such at the time.”

  “It no longer matters.” He stood. “Thank you for the games, Miss Hawthorn. I will return to the club and prepare the documents so that you can claim ownership tomorrow.”

  With that, Seth turned on his heel and marched from the room and out of the house, leaving his winnings behind. They did not matter now.

  Nothing mattered.

  He had lost everything and to the woman he loved. The woman who had betrayed him.

  Frances’ stomach tightened as she watched Seth storm out of the room.

  What had she done?

  She thought there would be satisfaction in beating him but there was none.

  “Why is Lord Seth upset and why did he leave his winnings behind?” Tessa asked as she came forward with her husband and Bethany.

  “He lost the final bet,” Frances answered quietly.

  “Oh, it was all or nothing and now the winnings are yours?” Bethany asked.

  Frances picked up the garter. “My emerald garter for his.”

  Bethany and Tessa frowned. It was His Grace who met her eyes. “As in his club?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would he risk his club on a piece of material?” Bethany asked.

  Tessa’s eyes widened, as did those of His Grace, as they came to suspect it had not been simply a garter.

  Would she now lose her position?

  Frances had expected to anyway, but had not anticipated the disappointment, an emptiness. Bethany and Tessa were her only real friends and when they learned her reasons…She might as well go upstairs and start packing for her move to Yorkshire.

  It was not only losing her friends that created the gaping hole in the pit of her stomach, but what she had truly lost this evening.

  Her reasons had not changed, but she questioned the extent to which she had gone to have her revenge.

  “Bethany, could you make certain the front door is locked. All the servants have gone to bed,” Tessa requested.

 

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