by Abby Ayles
Regina just tried to focus on her own cards and on her end goal. Some men, she noticed, were just doing this for the thrill of the gamble. They didn’t care about the cards, not really, and they didn’t care about playing well. But others were good. They wanted to win and they enjoyed the skill of the game, such as it was, although there was always a fair bit of luck involved in a game such as Loo.
Was this what her father had been like when he had played? She could see the tightness in the lines of the men’s faces—what of their faces she could see, anyway. There was a wild look in their eyes.
It made her want to get out of the way, like she was standing in the path of a runaway horse. Instead, she kept playing.
If she could just keep her head while everyone else was losing theirs, she’d be fine. But it was harder than she had anticipated not to get caught up in the fervor of it.
Everyone was so intense in a way that Lord Harrison and Cora simply could not replicate. Regina could all but taste the desperation in the air. It was a struggle to stay calm when everyone around her seemed to be the opposite.
The men standing around and watching didn’t help. They were constantly muttering to one another and making whispered observations. Their enthusiasm in watching and their predictions only added to the intensity and risk of the game.
Focus, Regina reminded herself. None of them matter. Only Lord Pettifer.
She squared her shoulders and imagined there was a book balanced on her head, the way that Cora had made her practice nearly all of one afternoon. She was confident. She knew what she was doing. If she said it, if she believed it, these men around her would as well.
Time seemed to both drag on and to have no meaning at all. There didn’t appear to be any clocks in the room and if there were she couldn’t see them from where she was sitting. She didn’t even really bother to look up. All of her attention was on the men around her and the cards in front of her.
Mostly it was on Lord Pettifer.
It was clear that he thought her an amusement at best. He didn’t consider her a very serious competitor. At least, not at first.
Then she started winning.
There were three men left besides herself and Lord Pettifer when she looked down at her cards—and then had to keep herself from alarmingly looking over at Lord Harrison out of habit.
She had a good hand. In fact, going by everyone’s tells, she had the best hand.
When she played her cards and raked in her part of the pot for that round, she had to keep herself from screaming. Whether it was in fear or delight, she couldn’t tell. She had the most out of all of them, she was—she was winning.
Regina had to hold in her gasp as she realized that she was actually doing better than all of the other men. She wasn’t just doing better than some of them. She was the current best player, at least going by the pot.
She felt torn between yelling with triumph and running out the door to hide for a few hours. Days. Weeks. But she certainly couldn’t do anything like that.
Now that she was winning, she had to use it to bait Lord Pettifer. She had to finish eliminating the other men and then get Lord Pettifer to overextend himself.
To her surprise, it actually took a while for the men to notice that she was winning. They hadn’t thought for even a moment that she could be a serious threat to them. When she started to take their money they actually didn’t seem to even really see it. It just… went over their heads, almost.
But they couldn’t avoid the truth forever, no matter how uncomfortable of a truth it was for them. Eventually, they saw. They saw that they were getting thoroughly beaten by a young and mysterious woman whose name they didn’t even know.
And then they went after her.
Regina could sense the tide turning against her and knew that the men by unspoken agreement were trying to oust her from the table. She could not let that happen.
She fought, tooth and nail. She could read them better than they could read her. She just had to keep herself blank. She thought of Natalie and how Natalie behaved around men, and that was how she acted. She wasn’t Regina, she thought, she was Natalie. That was all.
Soon the tension in the room was palpable. Regina felt as though if she took out a knife she could cut herself a slice of it. Everyone was watching her. No, more than watching her. Waiting. Waiting for her to fail.
She would not fail.
You have to lie, she thought. You have to lie as you have never lied before. You can do this. You are more than you think you are.
She had to give Lord Harrison and Cora a reason not to doubt her. She had to win back her family’s fortune and honor.
The men eventually seemed to see that it was a lost cause—or at least most of them did. One by one they left the table. One by one, they vanished, leaving their lost money in the middle.
Until it was only her and Lord Pettifer.
Regina and Lord Harrison had been right. His pride was pricked and he was eager to taste her defeat. He wanted to take all that she had and he wanted to prove that he was still the man to beat. He would not be bested by a mere slip of a girl, oh no.
With just the two of them at the table, Regina knew that time was up. There was no further she could go. She would win this hand, or she would lose, and lose all.
One more deep breath.
Lie, she thought. Lie as you have never before lied in your life. Lie with your heart and every fiber of your being. Lie with your soul. Lie until even you believe that lie. Believe that you are a stupid girl with no chance who has gotten this far on luck. Believe it and he will believe it.
“It appears that I have no more cash upon me,” Lord Pettifer said. He smirked at her. “And what of you, dear lady?”
Lie. Lie with everything you have.
“I suppose that I do have some lands that I could put down a signage for.” Regina spoke casually using the accent, and shrugged one of her shoulders. “I suppose that you do as well?”
She paused, as if considering. “Wait. Perhaps, sir, I know you. Are you not the man who they say took the Hartfield estate in a game not a month ago?”
Lord Pettifer smiled. Of course he would be proud at being caught out, rather than defensive and contrite as he ought to be. He spread his arms wide. “I am he.”
“I have long admired those lands. Perhaps you shall wager those while I wager mine.”
“A fine bargain,” Lord Pettifer said. “I shall win more lands with lands I have already won previously.”
“Careful Pettifer,” one of the other men said in a low voice. “You have already written several notes of debt. If she wins, your coffers are empty and the Hartfield lands are all that you have.”
“Nonsense.” Lord Pettifer’s tone was scathing. “You say that as if I do not have the winning hand.”
Regina said nothing. She merely gestured for a quill and paper.
Lord Pettifer copied her, and paper and writing utensils were produced for the both of them. Regina’s heart was in her throat as she wrote out the name for an imaginary estate up in the north. Lord Harrison had at one point suggested that they use Whitefern, but Regina had refused. He was already giving her so much, she would not let him risk even more for her.
Once everything had been written down, they placed their papers in the pot in the middle. The game resumed, but not for long. With such high stakes and only the two of them in, it would soon be time to show their hands.
Regina looked down at her cards. She had good cards and—she looked at Lord Pettifer. He was overextending himself. He was narrowing his eyes, the way he did when his hand was not as good as he would have liked and he was contemplating if he thought his hand was better than hers.
She rolled her shoulders slightly and saw Lord Pettifer’s lip go stiff as he tried not to smirk. He’d bought into her fake tell. He thought she had a worse hand than she did.
But was her hand high enough to beat his? Her cards meant that currently, she would Loo. But if he also Loo’d�
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There was nothing for it. Cards was a gambling game, after all. Regina could only play it safe for so long. Eventually she would have to make a risk, take a leap of faith.
So she called him.
‘Calling’ was the term which meant that she was essentially forcing Lord Pettifer to show his hand. Then she would show hers, and they would know who had won.
The air seemed to sweep out of the room. Everyone was poised, watching. She could feel Lord Harrison’s gaze on her like a brand.
“I call, sir,” Regina repeated.
With a smirk, Lord Pettifer set down his cards.
Relief filled her. Pure, sweet relief, such that she had never before tasted.
She had suspected for some time that Lord Pettifer’s cards were only middling. She had faked a tell early on, a nervous tap of her finger, that would make him think she used when she had a bad hand. She had noticed that Lord Pettifer would blow his hands out of proportion, acting as though they were better then they actually were in order to fool others into folding.
Personally Regina would have thought it better if he faked having poorer hands in order to trick his opponents into thinking he was doing more badly than he actually was. That way they would bet more and be overconfident.
But that was too smart for Lord Pettifer, at least in Regina’s opinion. Now she was going to take advantage of his foolishness.
Regina set down her cards.
She had loo’d. She’d won the hand.
For a moment, everyone just stared. It all sank in gradually, the realization of what had happened.
A woman, and an unknown woman at that, had just beaten the biggest card shark and rake in the country. More than beaten him, in fact. She had taken everything that he had.
There was a moment of silence.
Then—well, the room did not erupt. These were gentlemen, after all, and it would not do to yell and make a scene. They were English, not French or, God forbid, Spanish.
But there was a sudden outburst of murmuring. Everyone was muttering to everyone else. People were outright staring at her. They stared at Lord Pettifer as well.
Lord Pettifer sat there for a moment longer. It was as though he could not truly believe what had just happened to him. Then, in a rush, he stood up—so violently, in fact, that he knocked over his chair.
“You little snake,” he hissed. His face had gone an alarming shade of red. “You must have cheated. How did you do it?”
“She did not cheat, sir,” Lord Morrison said. “We all watched both of you with much scrutiny. And you were the dealer more often than she was. If you wish to blame anyone for cheating perhaps it should be yourself.”
Lord Pettifer pointed an accusing finger at her. “Do not think that I shall forget this. I will find out your identity and there shall be no escape for you then. I will—”
“You will leave her alone, or the consquences upon your person will be far more dire than a loss of fortune.”
Regina stood up abruptly, caught by surprise. She turned, her skin tingling at his presence. Lord Harrison.
He stood just behind her, and even with the mask on his face was thunderous. It was the fire that she had seen directed at Cora before, and now it was burning even hotter when directed at Lord Pettifer.
Cora was a friend, Regina realized. Of course Lord Harrison’s anger, although fierce, had been somewhat tempered when directed at her. He had known that her intentions were pure.
Lord Pettifer, on the other hand, was an enemy. A dangerous one. There would be no quarter or withholding from Lord Harrison against this opponent.
Regina’s heart beat rapidly. She could feel the heat off his body and smell him, masculine and oddly calming. She was safe. He wouldn’t let Lord Pettifer do anything to her.
“Are you protecting this lady?” Lord Pettifer scoffed.
“One month ago you took all that a man had,” Lord Harrison replied. “I was there, Pettifer. I saw it. You showed no mercy. When he protested you mocked him, even though he had five unmarried daughters.
“And now that you are in his shoes you seek revenge? You think that you have any moral ground to stand upon? If you forced that man to honor his debts then you must be put to paid to honor yours.
“If you do not—if you lay any harm upon, of all people, a woman—she is not even a man, Pettifer. And yet you would threaten violence upon her? Shameful, even for a man such as you.
“The first person that shows his hypocrisy and violence and dares to raise a hand against this woman will have that hand cut off. I am also available for a duel, if someone wishes to settle the score in that manner.”
Regina’s blood ran cold at the thought of Lord Harrison putting himself in the path of a gun. But none of the men looked liable to take him up on his challenge.
Many of them, in fact, were looking at Lord Pettifer with disdain. Regina could read it in their eyes even though their faces were mostly obscured.
They were on her side, she realized. Her father could not have been the only person that Lord Pettifer had ruined. He must have quarreled and treated ill dozens of men by this time to claw his way into the sort of social position that he occupied.
Regina squared her shoulders and drew herself up. She was in the right—and the men knew it. Lord Harrison was at her back and the room was with her rather than against her.
She saw the moment that Lord Pettifer realized that the tide was against him. He shifted, his rat face growing tight and his eyes darting about.
Finally, Regina gave into her anger completely and allowed a sardonic smile to grace her lips. She remembered the darker side to Puck, the side that played with mortals and men and left them gasping and humiliated.
“I will not stand for this,” Lord Pettifer said, but his words sounded weak and desperate.
Regina let her smile grow. “Thou coward, thou art bragging to the stars.”
She flicked her gaze over to Lord Harrison and saw that he, too, was smiling.
Chapter 33
Regina gathered up her winnings with the help of Lord Morrison. It still wouldn’t do for anyone to see Lord Harrison with her. They could still get in trouble if someone realized that he had coached her.
“That was a fine thing you did,” Lord Morrison told her. “I hope that you will give those lands back to the family to which they rightly belong.”
“I shall certainly do so. I have fortune enough,” Regina replied.
Lord Morrison smiled at her, then gave a small bow and walked over to speak with some other men.
Regina had her winnings, and so she left the room. The gossip would take care of itself. She was sure that Lord Morrison, a good friend of her family, would ensure that everyone who had heard of her father’s loss also heard of how the woman who had beat Lord Pettifer had restored the Hartfield lands to their rightful family.
She didn’t know if any of the men would go back to playing cards after such a spectacle, nor did she care. She did not, however, expect Lord Harrison to exit the room shortly after she did.
Regina paused and allowed him to catch up to her.
“I must return, so as to avoid suspicion,” he said. “But I wish for you to know, that was magnificent. You did well, my Puck. That was a game for the ages.”
“I feared I could not bluff well enough,” Regina confessed. “You know that I am horrible at lying.”
“When there is enough at stake, I have found that people are capable of things that they never imagined,” Lord Harrison observed.
He looked at her with such naked affection that it made Regina’s heart feel as though it had taken up residence in her mouth. She swallowed.
“I had not thought him so easy to beat,” she added. She needed something, anything, to break this strange tension she was feeling. “Lord, what fools these mortals be.”
Lord Harrison chuckled. “Yes, indeed.”
“You should return,” she added. She felt oddly breathless. Perhaps it was just that this would
be the last time they would be alone together. After this he would belong to Bridget, and Bridget to him.
It would never be just the two of them again.
“I should,” Lord Harrison agreed. He looked as though he might say something more for a moment—his lips parted and his eyes warmed.
But then the moment passed. He shook his head, as if to himself, and then made to return.
“Lord Harrison?”
He paused.
“I must thank you, one last time.” Regina passed him her winnings, keeping only the deed that would allow her family home to be restored. “Here. You lent me money so that I might play. You must take it.”
Lord Harrison held up a hand. “No. They are your winnings, fair and square. Pay me back for what I lent you but do not offer me more than that. What you won is ten times, twenty times, what I lent you. Use the extra to pay off your father’s debts and restore his finances.”
“You are too kind.”
Lord Harrison gave an odd laugh. It sounded almost strangled. “No. I am not all that kind at all.”
He then vanished into the card room before she could say anything more.
“And just how ridiculous are the two of you being this time?” Cora asked.
Regina whipped around. Cora was just turning the corner, and so Regina relaxed. She did not think that the other woman had heard the conversation.
“I must find Bridget,” she said. She did not have time for Cora’s teasing. The bargain must be carried out. Bridget had to marry Lord Harrison now.
“Yes, you must tell her the good news.” Cora paused. “Or is it bad news? Why, child. You look like you are about to cry.”
Regina hadn’t realized that was the truth until Cora said it, and only then did she notice the tears stinging her eyes and clouding her vision. “It is nothing.”
“Did you lose?” Cora asked. She looked past Regina, at the closed card room door. “Harrison will fix it. You will see. He will not let you come to ruin.”
“No, I won,” Regina protested. She held up her bag of winnings and opened it up so that Cora might look inside. “I earned back twenty times what Lord Harrison lent me to play with. I got the deed back to my home. Lord Pettifer is utterly ruined.”
