“Oh, certainly, certainly. I understand. But that’s the thrill of it, ain’t it? Letting it sweep you up.” The earl made an expansive sweeping gesture. “He was entering into the spirit of the thing, as it was his first night there. It was stirring to see him in action.”
She wondered if the earl was one of those who saw Hogarth dancing on a billiard table.
“I know it’s a bit alarming to lose the first time you do it, Miss Woodville, but your brother, now that he’s an earl, can always win more!” the countess soothed. “You can buy so much on credit and no one ever asks you to pay for it, when you’re an earl. And one can’talwayslose, just like you don’t always win, isn’t that right, dear?” she said to her husband.
Ginny understood two things simultaneously: These people weredaft. Mad. As. Hatters.
But then, so was she.
Because here she was, trying to talk them into giving back fifteen thousand pounds.
They were also, she suspected, considerably craftier than she was.
“It’s just that the particular sum you won was very much spoken for.” Her lips fought her mightily when she tried to turn them up into a smile. It was an attempt to make her words sound something other than desperate.
The countess laughed merrily. “Oh,allmoney is always spoken for, my dear. We’ve been thinking about ordering a new barouche with the winnings. We’ve only got the one, and it’s nigh on two years old now. We’ll name one of the horses on the team after your brother.”
The earl and countess laughed at this together.
Ginny heard noises resembling a laugh emerging from her own stiff lips.Imaginehaving more than one barouche.
She took a breath. “It’s just that both of my sisters are engaged to be married, you see. We’re due to enter negotiations for the marriage settlements within a fortnight. And surely you understand about dowries...”
“Oh, how lovely! Our congratulations to little Francesca, wasn’t it? And...”
“It’s Fiona and Felicity.”
“We’ll send over a little gift. Perhaps a silver creamer?”
I have a suggestion for a gift, Ginny was awfully tempted to say.
“They looked so much like your mother,” the earl suddenly recalled. “The twins.” His tone was wistful.
“They do.” Her heart began pounding. “They’ve grown up to lookjustlike her.”
Perhaps this was it. Perhaps sentiment would be the thing that brought him around.
She prayed again to the same legion of gods. She reminded herself that she’d found a stone heart, and surely it must mean something.
“Miss Woodville, did your brothertellyou that he lost to me?” the earl asked suddenly.
Bloody hell.
Her gut immediately turned to ice.
She thought she’d gotten lucky, but the earl was unfortunately finally realizing a few things.
Another torturous little silence sifted down.
“No, sir. He refused to tell me. Hogarth has averystrong sense of honor. He said he would ratherdiethan tell me.” There was no harm in exaggerating just a little. And in truth, Ginny did want to kill Hogarth, a little bit.
She didn’t expound, because she needed to buy a few more moments to think.
Something she ought to have done more of before she arrived.
The earl’s brow creased. “Then how—”
Suddenly Farnham the footman appeared again in the doorway. “Forgive my intrusion, Lord Sydenham, but you’ve another caller.” He delivered this news on a peculiarly nervous hush as he proffered a silver tray, upon which rested a single card.