“Lord Davenport, you shall play alongside Lady Carlisle.”
Lady Carlisle beamed. “An excellent choice, Marjory. Though I must warn you, Lord Davenport, I intend to win.”
Davenport chuckled, shaking his head. “I suppose I shall have to keep my wits about me.”
“Lord Blackwood, you will partner with Miss Hathaway.”
Blackwood inclined his head toward Miss Hathaway, who studied him with quiet curiosity. The reserved woman would make for an interesting match with the charismatic but unreadable lord.
“And finally, Sir Townsend, you are with Miss Gray.”
Miss Gray’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she cast an appraising look at her partner. “A man who is reserved but deliberate, how fascinating. Let’s see if you’re as sharp at cards as you are at observation, Sir Townsend.”
Townsend offered a mild smile. “I shall do my best to keep up, Miss Gray.”
Marjory’s eyes twinkled as she surveyed the group. “Now that our teams are set, let the game begin. May the best partners win.”
She made her way to one of the tables.
“Strange, isn’t it?” Blackwood let out a low chuckle as he shuffled the deck of cards with a practiced hand. “It makes one wonder what was so dangerous that every book and map in this library had to be removed.”
Bridget glanced at him. “Emptied? Why? What happened?”
He shrugged. “Only whispers. It’s said the Alastair ancestor who last used this room wasn’t merely a scholar but a manof, shall we say, unconventional pursuits.” He gave a knowing smile. “Alchemy, if you believe the legends.”
“Alchemy?” Bridget repeated, intrigued despite herself.
A murmur of intrigue passed between them. Bridget’s eyes narrowed slightly as she pressed, “There must be more to that tale.”
Blackwood placed a card down, his expression carefully neutral. “And that, dear lady, is why history claims he was burned for witchcraft.”
“Ah, Lady Bridget,” Grenville’s voice cut through the hum of conversation, a hint of amusement playing at his lips as he took a seat opposite her at the table. “Are you ready to try your luck?”
“Luck rarely determines the outcome, Captain,” she countered, her smile cool.
“Though I imagine it’s rather useful for those who lack skill.” His brow arched. “Ah, but luck favors the bold. Shall we see which of us it chooses tonight?”
She met his gaze, the challenge unmistakable. “It would be my pleasure.”
She’d meant to study him. Now, she wasn’t sure who was watching whom.
She looked across at her partner, Captain Grenville, and their opponents, Blackwood and Lady Worthington. A footman arrived with a fresh decanter of wine, pouring generous servings as coins and small promissory notes were placed upon the table.
The first round began in earnest. Grenville played conservatively, studying his opponents rather than pressing his advantage. Bridget, on the other hand, played aggressively, pushing the stakes higher with every calculated move.
“Marjory always arranges the partnerships,” Lady Worthington noted, absently swirling her wine. “It’s one of her little traditions, you see. She believes the game reveals things about people.”
Bridget arched a brow. “And does it?”
Blackwood smirked. “Oh, most certainly. If you pay attention.”
“A dangerous strategy,” Grenville murmured as Bridget raised the bet once again.
“Only if one lacks confidence,” Bridget countered, her eyes gleaming.
Across the table, Blackwood chuckled, the sound low and deliberate. “Confidence can be a double-edged sword, Lady Bridget. But I admire the courage.”
Bridget met his gaze. He played with precision, but he withheld something, as if every card he laid down was meant to distract from the ones he never showed.
