The Lady's Hand

by Bobbi Smith

  "There. Now we're even. You helped me with Jones, and I just saved you from a trap. I'll just wait a second longer to make sure they're gone, and then I'll be out of your way." She started for the door to listen to what was happening outside.

  "Wait a minute. How did you know about this?"

  "I didn't. I was guessing, but my instincts warned me that something was wrong from the way Demers was acting in the bar after you left. It looks as if they had it all planned. Evidently Lottie wanted to marry you so badly that they cooked up this scheme to force you to the altar."

  "But Demers caught us together. How do I know that you're not a part of their plot? What do you want out of all this?"

  "Me?" She stared at him in outraged disbelief. "What makes you think I want anything?"

  "Every woman wants something," he replied snidely.

  "Believe me when I tell you this, I don't want a thing from you. Nothing happened between us, and even if there is any talk, it will pass. Don't worry, Mr. Marchand. Unlike Lottie, I didn't come in here to force you to marry me. You don't owe me a thing."

  Then she was gone, without another word.

  Rafe's frustration grew as he stared at the closed door. He couldn't believe what had just happened. One minute he'd been ready for bed, and the next he'd been saved from a conniving plot to force him into an unwanted marriage.

  Rafe smiled ruefully. Brandy was one amazing woman! She had put her own reputation at risk for him, coming into his room like an avenging angel. And how had he repaid her? He'd insulted her.

  Rafe thought about the way she'd looked as she'd quit the room. He had seen the fire of pride and defiance in her eyes as she'd told him she wanted nothing from him, and he thought he'd never seen a more desirable woman.

  Unable to relax, he strode about the cabin. He stopped his pacing suddenly and shuddered at the realization of how close he'd come to being forced to the altar. Raking a hand through his hair in a weary motion, he sighed. If he was already married, he wouldn't be having these problems, but he had no desire to wed. Only the thought of having a son or daughter tempted him even to consider marriage.

  Rafe imagined a son or daughter with Brandy's quick wit and bravery, and he knew that offspring would be a child to behold. When he recognized the direction of his thoughts, he frowned and pushed the idea quickly away. Brandy wanted nothing to do with him. She'd made that abundantly clear.

  Rafe stretched out on the bed. He wondered what Demers was going to do about what had happened there tonight. If the other man was smart, he'd keep his mouth shut. Certainly, Lottie's reputation would suffer dramatically if the events that had transpired were revealed, but there was no telling what the other man might do. If he was angry because his plot had been foiled, he might try to hurt Brandy. Despite undercurrents of suspicion about her, Brandy's reputation had been unsullied-until now. Now, however, there definitely was some truth to the gossip, and if Demers wanted to, he could make things difficult for her.

  The more Rafe thought about it, the more it troubled him. Brandy had saved him from a horrible fate-a marriage to Lottie Demers yet she had wanted nothing in return; in fact, she had disdained the thought. Still, she would be the one to pay the price for coming to his rescue, and he had to find a way to ensure that she didn't suffer for that.

  Brandy was in the middle of dealing when she saw Rafe enter the room. She tensed, then forced herself to relax. She had been seething ever since she'd left him last night. How dare he accuse her of plotting with James Demers! The thought still had the power to infuriate her, and as Rafe claimed the chair directly across from her, she vowed to make him pay at the poker table tonight for his insults the night before. She was going to trounce him soundly.

  Despite her attempt to reveal nothing of what she was feeling, Rafe had seen the way her eyes narrowed when she spotted him across the room, and he'd known the night was going to be an interesting one. He was ready for the game to come. He had been thinking about it all day, and he knew what he had to do. It seemed a stroke of fate that the man sitting opposite Brandy had chosen that particular moment to quit the game. Rafe took the seat in a casual motion.

  "Good evening, Brandy,"

  She glanced at him and managed a phony smile of welcome.

  "Mr. Marchand, how nice to see you again."

  "The pleasure is all mine, believe me," he returned, and he meant it. He had told Marc about how Brandy had rescued him from Lottie's trap, but he had not said a word to him about his own plan. He would tell him later. For now, he just was going to do what had to be done. "What game are we playing this evening?"

  "Draw," she answered quickly. She no longer thought teasing banter with him amusing. She knew him for who he really was now, an arrogant, conceited bastard, and she didn't like him. In a way, she was even sorry she'd saved him last night. She rather thought he and the Demers girl deserved each other.

  Brandy dealt efficiently as she joked with the others at the table. No one noticed that she was irritated, and she was glad. This was her job; it would not do to let her emotions get the better of her.

  As play began, she sensed right away that there was an edge to Rafe's game that hadn't been there before. It was a simple matter to read the others at the table. The man on her left, Morrison, was definitely no card sharp. If he held more than a pair of deuces, his left eye twitched. Williams sat on her right, and she knew when he was bluffing for he had the nervous habit of clearing his throat then. The third man at the table, Hagan, was a little more difficult to read. The only clue she ever had that he held a good hand was when his knuckles whitened as he held his cards. And then there was Rafe. She had marked him over the last few nights as a solid, cautious player, but she had never been able to read his cards by his expression or any nervous reaction. Tonight, he seemed even more guarded than usual as he bet heavily and steadily.

  Brandy was not concerned when she lost a few hands. It was to be expected. She knew the risks and took them. She dealt again and was pleased with her hand. She had three queens, a seven and a four. Rafe took one card on the draw and raised. Williams dropped out; Morrison followed. Brandy threw away the seven and four and drew an ace and a three. It wasn't her best hand of the night, but she wasn't disappointed. Three of a kind was solid.

  The crowd standing around the table drew in closer, sensing that something exciting was about to happen.

  Rafe raised again. Hagan stayed. Rafe's expression was mild as he looked directly at Brandy. "Your bet."

  She felt a twinge of nervousness at his steady, unwavering regard, but she did not give in to it. She continued to match him dollar for dollar in the betting. The stakes were high and getting higher.

  Hagan finally dropped out, sensing that their hands were far better than his own.

  "I bet five thousand," Rafe announced calmly, a slight smile curving his lips. He watched Brandy closely as he pushed the amount into the middle of the table.

  A shocked gasp sounded in the room from the onlookers.

  A frisson shivered down Brandy's spine as she stared at her three queens. Her own funds were dangerously low, but the pot to be won was a big one- enough to take care of her mother for many months. Besides, she refused to lose to this man. She would not let him back her down. She was going to match him dollar for dollar, bet for bet. Brandy looked up at Rafe, but could read nothing in his expression. Drawing a deep breath, she knew she had to go for it.

  "I match your bet and call," she declared fiercely, certain that she was going to win.

  "You have the money?" Rafe asked.

  "If I lose." She emphasized the if. "I'm good for it."

  Rafe smiled. He had her right where he wanted her.

  James Demers was among those who'd gathered around the table. He had been drinking heavily all night and was watching the game with interest.

  "You of all people, Marchand, should know that she's good for it," he slurred. He stumbled back to the bar muttering under his breath, "Marchand can always take it ou
t in trade."

  Rafe stared straight into Brandy's eyes, challenging her, daring her. "I trust you to pay your debts, just as I always pay mine," he said in a low, soft voice. "Let's see your cards."

  Brandy nodded and spread her hand on the table.

  Rafe was quiet for a moment, letting the tension build. Then he smiled easily. "A straight beats three of a kind."

  He laid down his cards - a heart straight, king high.

  She went pale, but said nothing.

  A roar of approval erupted in the room. Side bets that had been placed on Brandy and Rafe were paid off.

  "Looks like you're a winner, Mr. Marchand," she said tightly, trying to cover her shock and horror.

  "Did you ever doubt it?" he countered as he quickly counted out the money to see exactly what she owed him.

  Brandy was feeling sick to her stomach. It was the first time she'd ever lost so badly, and inwardly she railed at herself for letting her emotions interfere with her gambling. She had wanted desperately to beat him, and now she would pay, and pay dearly, for giving in to that weakness.

  "You owe me five thousand dollars. When can I expect to see the money?" Rafe asked, deliberately pressing her.

  "Tomorrow." The word was choked from her. "I'll pay up tomorrow."

  He nodded, his gaze catching and holding hers.

  "If you gentlemen will excuse me?" Brandy rose from her chair.

  All those gathered around complimented her on the fine game she'd played. She bantered with them easily, appearing unaffected by her loss. But in reality, she knew she was in dire straits. She had another six hundred dollars in her room, but that was all the money she had left in the world. She wondered what she was going to do.

  That night was one of the longest, most terrible ones she'd ever spent. She did not sleep, but paced her room endlessly, searching for some way to find the money to pay Rafe. She knew he was ruthless. She knew he was heartless. She knew he expected payment.

  In desperation, in the middle of the night, she left her room and went to knock on Ben's door. He was surprised to see her, but let her in after taking the time to quickly dress.

  "What's wrong?" Something had to be terribly amiss for her to seek him out in the middle of the night.

  "I made a terrible mistake tonight," she confessed, trembling. "I was playing cards with Rafe Marchand and the betting went high too high. I should have gotten out, but I was sure I had a winning hand." She refused to confess to Ben that she'd wanted badly to beat the other man.

  Ben looked sympathetic. "How much do you need?"

  In all her time on the boat, she had never gotten herself into any tight situations before and Ben was more than ready to help her out. He had seen how Brandy and Rafe had reacted to each other at dinner the other night and knew sparks had flown between them. Rafe Marchand had impressed him as a man to be reckoned with, and he knew she had to make good.

  "Nearly five thousand."

  Ben stared at her in shock. "I could scrape up a thousand, maybe fifteen hundred, but that's all I have."

  "I understand." She sounded defeated. "I have six hundred in my room, and that's all I have left." She lifted her troubled gaze to Ben's.

  "Maybe he'll..."

  She interrupted him, knowing what he was about to say. "Don't even suggest it. I don't think Rafe Marchand's the forgiving type."

  They shared a look of misery as they searched for a solution.

  "I shouldn't have kept playing. I knew there was something different about him tonight. He was so cold and determined. It was almost as if he wanted nothing more than to beat me badly. And he did."

  "You have to talk to him. Go to him and see if hell take partial payment. I can spot you a few dollars to start you up again, and then maybe he'll give you time to earn it back and pay him off."

  "You're too good to me, Ben."

  "I just want to make sure you're all right. I was afraid something like this might happen, but I hadn't expected it from Rafe Marchand."

  "He's one of the men you warned me about, isn't he?"

  Ben nodded, his expression serious. "He's ruthless and thinks only of what he wants. Be very careful when you talk to him."

  "I will."

  "Do you want me to go with you?"

  She shook her head quickly. It was bad enough that she was going to be humiliated before Rafe. She didn't want a witness. "I'll go in the morning and see what kind of arrangements we can make. Perhaps he'll be agreeable to terms."

  She turned, ready to go back to her empty room and lie awake the rest of the night hours. Ben reached out and took her arm.

  "It'll be all right. He may be a hard man, but he's not a monster."

  "I hope you're right."

  "Here, take what money I do have. It might help." He handed her the money he kept in his cabin, which amounted to about nine hundred dollars. Even with her six hundred, she was far short. "If he agrees to terms, I'll give you more when we get back to New Orleans."

  "Thank you."

  With that she was gone. Ben sat down heavily on his bed and rested his head in his hands. This was his worst nightmare. This was what he'd feared. This was what had worried him. This was why he'd tried to keep her from coming on board. He had thought after all these months that things were working out well. He'd been wrong, and now it was too late to save her from what could be a very ugly situation. He hoped Marchand proved to be a decent sort, but he couldn't know for sure.

  When the knock came at Rafe's door the next morning, he'd been expecting it. He had been up since dawn, planning the way he was going to handle Brandy. If her story about her mother was true, he was certain she wouldn't be able to get the five thousand, and that would leave her right where he wanted her. She might not have heard Demers's remark last night, but he had, and he was certain others had, too. As independent as she was, he knew their upcoming conversation wasn't going to be pretty, but he didn't care. He already knew what he wanted from her in the way of payment, and he intended to get it.

  He opened the door to find Brandy standing before him, looking every inch a lady.

  "May I come in?" she asked.

  Rafe held the door wide for her to enter; then he closed it behind her. At the sound, Brandy felt trapped. She maintained her stoic demeanor, though, and revealed nothing of her inner turmoil.

  "I had hoped you would be here."

  "I've been expecting you. Do you have the money?" Rafe was not going to waste time on niceties. When Rafe knew what he wanted, he went after it-with a passion.

  She opened the small purse she was carrying and started to take out what money she'd brought with her.

  For a moment, Rafe went still. He had been sure that he'd driven the stakes up high enough to bankrupt her. He'd felt certain that she didn't have enough to pay the debt, and now...

  "Here." She held out a wad of bills. "There's nearly fifteen hundred there. I can pay you the rest over the next few months."

  The uncertainty that had gripped him for a minute was gone in that moment, and Rafe knew he'd won. The feeling was heady. He was going to force her to his bidding whether she liked it or not. The thought made him smile. His was not a kind smile, though, but the smile of a victor in his triumph.

  "I'm afraid that won't do. When you made the bet, I believe you said you were good for the full amount." He didn't even reach for the money.

  "And I am. Just give me a few months to make up the difference." It seared her soul to say the words to him. She had hoped he would agree right off and there would be no bargaining. She owed him, she knew it, and he would get his money.

  "I'm not a bank, making loans. I think the words you used with Jackson were If you can't afford to lose, don't play.' "His expression was hard.

  "I see."

  "Is there a problem getting the rest of the money now?" he asked, wanting her to admit openly that she could not pay up.

  "I don't have it. I only have this."

  Rafe fell silent as he stared at her from acros
s the room. Even humiliated and despairing as she was, she was standing proudly before him, and he thought she had never looked more beautiful.

  "Is there any kind of payment agreement we can arrange?"

  "As a matter of fact, I had considered one option...."

  Brandy swallowed nervously. Fear gripped her. Ben had warned her of men like him ruthless, driven, they took what they wanted, when they wanted it, and damn the consequences.

  All along Ben had argued that her virtue was at risk, and now she understood why. No doubt, Rafe was going to ask her to become his mistress. She was horrified. For all of her exposure to men and gambling, she was an innocent to the more intimate ways of men. Protected as she'd been by her devotion to her mother, she had never been involved with any man, let alone learned the ways of a courtesan.

  "And your option is?" she asked, her chin up, her gaze fixed on him. She was not willing to appear weak or frightened before him as she awaited his announcement.

  Rafe's smile faded as he turned serious. "I have a proposition to make you."

  Brandy turned cold. She sensed she knew what was coming and wondered how she would ever hide the shame of it from her mother. "Yes?"

  "I have been fighting off women ever since I came of marriageable age. You were witness to that the other night."

  "What does that have to do with me?" She was staring at him, confused.

  "I have come up with a plan that would suit me well. You owe me an outstanding amount of money, and you have no funds with which to pay me. I have an arrangement of sorts in mind...."

  "What kind of arrangement?"

  "I want you to marry me."

  "You what?" "Stunned" barely described what she was feeling as she stared at him.

  Before she could say any more, he held up his hand to stop her. "I want you to marry me."

  "That's it? Just marry you and the debt's canceled?"

  "No, there's more. We both know how the other feels about marriage." There was a sneer to his voice as he spoke.

  Brandy swallowed, expecting the worst, though she couldn't imagine much worse than being forced into a marriage she didn't want with a man who didn't love her. "Like what?"