“No,” Emma said. “All will be well. The man is already defeated, he just does not know it yet.”
Not wanting to give Sally the opportunity to argue further, Emma took the seat directly across from Lord Oswald. George placed two stacks of ten coins in front of her.
“Do you know the rules?” Lord Oswald asked. Emma nodded. “Then we shall place a starting bet of one coin each.” Once their ante was placed, he began to shuffle the cards. Not once did he take his eyes off Emma. “It has not served you well to run away from me. What on earth would make you run straight into the arms of a failure such as Michael Bracken?”
Many in the crowd laughed, but Emma never shifted her gaze. He was attempting to unsettle her, trying to set her on edge so she would be unable to concentrate, but no matter what he said, no matter what he did, she would not give in. Never again would she be this man’s possession!
“Surely you must find such a man in his state disgusting.”
“What I see in him is not your concern,” she replied, surprised her voice was not shaking from the terror that ate at her from inside. “However, being in your presence brings to mind the dung of a horse, which I would place far above you, my lord.”
Lord Oswald’s smile faltered at that, and she knew the man’s anger was great, for his face took on a deep red coloring. Rather than respond, however, he dealt the cards, face down in front of each of them.
Emma would take her turn first. She shook the dice cup and threw the die. It showed two pips. “Evens,” she said and flipped a single card face up. It was the seven of hearts.
Lord Oswald rolled. “Even as well,” he said. The card he showed was a four. He pushed the cup toward her and when she took hold of it, he wrapped his hand over hers. “Your tongue is sharp and disrespectful,” he said in a low voice only for her ears. “I will make you pay for it later.”
“There shall be no later,” Emma replied as she pulled the cup away from him.
The man smirked but made no retort.
This time when she rolled, six pips showed. “Odd.” She turned over another card. This time it was a six.
Once Lord Oswald’s turn ended, Emma looked at the man’s cards and then her own. He showed a queen and a four. She peeked at her remaining cards, and much to her delight, found that she had a pair of sevens.
“Five coins,” Lord Oswald said.
Emma studied the man. He was smiling widely as he tapped a finger on the edge of the table, but she had a feeling that he was bluffing. “Parlay,” she said in a firm reply as she placed her five coins with the others.
When they flipped over their cards, she could not help but smile. The man had been bluffing and lost this round with nothing but a queen high.
“Very good,” he said as he pushed the coins toward her. “Perhaps I have underestimated you.”
She ignored him, and they continued to play. With each round, Emma’s confidence grew. She was playing for her virtue - and for Michael. To humiliate this man while playing his favorite game would only be a feather in her cap.
“Seven coins,” Lord Oswald said after the next toss, and Emma pursed her lips. The man was no longer smiling, so he might not be bluffing this time.
Yet, she held a strong hand, so she had to take a chance. “Parlay,” she said and pushed forward the coins to match his bet. Then she turned over her cards. “Nines.”
Lord Oswald snickered. “Queens.”
Emma’s heart sank as the man laughed and pulled the winnings toward him. She took a deep breath. Sally had taught her this game, and the others in the camp had given her many opportunities to practice, but Emma had learned that losing was inevitable.
What was more important was that through both winning and losing, the best players were able to pick up on clues about their opponents. When Lord Oswald smiled, he did so to fool her. Of course, the man was too good of a player to be consistent with these hints. So, he had to have some other outward sign, but what was it?
She closed her eyes and replayed the round in her mind. Then she smiled. She knew exactly what had happened.
The game continued, and three rounds later, she was up by five coins. However, Lord Oswald surprised her. “I wager it all.”
Emma did not need to know if the man was bluffing, for she held three kings. “Parlay, my lord,” she said sweetly. When she turned over her cards, appreciative whispers ran through the crowd. Even Michael wore a wide grin.
“It appears as though Miss Emma has bested me,” Lord Oswald said as he rose. “You have all been witnesses to this.”
Emma also stood, her heart happy. She wanted nothing more than to leave. “I thank you for a civil game, my lord. Now, I must be leaving. The agreement you made with Lord Bracken and me is complete. He brought me here, and I won my game of parlay.”
“Yes, that agreement has been met,” Lord Oswald said with a chuckle that curdled Emma’s stomach. She should have known better than to believe a man as hateful and vindictive as this would allow them to leave without incident. “This agreement, however, has not been fulfilled.”
George produced a document, which he placed in Lord Oswald’s waiting hand. “Honored guests, in my hand is a contract made between Lord Phillip Burk and myself signed nearly two years ago.” He threw the document on the table. “In it, I was promised the hand of his daughter, Miss Emma Shepherd, in exchange for a monetary sum.” He slammed his fist on the contract. “You are going nowhere. You are my property, and this agreement will be met!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
It took all Emma had inside not to weep as Lord Oswald broken into maniacal laughter. How quickly had her victory turned to heartbreak as the nightmares concerning the man began to come true, for that document left her with no recourse. No way out.
What a fool she had been! She had thought that the love she and Michael shared would see them victorious and Lord Whiskens defeated. Yet, their love had not been enough.
“Michael,” she said, her breath coming in short gasps. Breathing was becoming difficult and she could do nothing to quell the panic that was rising within her. Everything, gone. All they had worked so hard to build, gone. The world began swimming in her vision and she feared she would faint at any moment. She blinked her eyes to clear her head. She was not one of those namby-pamby types!
“I will trade all this,” Michael held up the bundle of documents, “for your document. Or anything else you may want.”
The crowd parted as Lord Oswald strutted toward them proud as a peacock. “I do not want your home, boy, only the woman you love. I have done so before, and tonight you will know that I have done it again.” When he stopped before her and Michael, Emma’s legs nearly gave way from fear.
Emma glanced at Sally, whose fingers wrapped around something in the pocket of her dress. A knife, Emma was certain.
Then Robert stepped forward. “Lord Whisken,” he said, clearly not knowing the man’s true name, “perhaps this young woman can be bought. I have a vast amount of wealth and would pay gladly for her hand.”
Lord Oswald scowled. “It appears my guests have no idea what I want and therefore will repeat it once more. It is Miss Emma Shepherd whom I desire, and I have won her fair and square. You all bear witness to me receiving what is rightfully mine.” The hands that grasped her arm were as cold as the man’s soul. “If anyone wishes to stop me from taking what is mine, let him know that he will be met with death.”
Sally stepped forward. She never seemed fearful. “Yet, you did not win this woman,” she said. Lord Oswald turned a glare on Sally, but she paid him no mind. “The truth is you purchased her hand. A common act, indeed, but for a man of your stature, it does nothing for your name.”
Lord Oswald turned his glare on Robert. “You allow your mistress to speak to me in such a forward way?” he demanded. “Does she not know who I am?”
“I had heard you are a man with unparalleled skills in parlay,” Sally said. “And seeing how Miss Shepherd has already bested you, I u
nderstand why you would not take that risk again.”
This caused a few snickers from the otherwise silent onlookers. Only a few risked laughing outright.
Lord Oswald released Emma and returned to stand beside his chair. Emma would have said he stood as a king beside his throne. “What this woman said is correct,” he announced to the crowd. “Perhaps allowing you to best me - which I did allow if you must know - has lessened my name in the eyes of those in attendance.” He gave Emma a deep bow. “Will you play me again, your hand as the wager?”
Emma grasped her skirts in her fists for a moment and then released them. “What will be my reward if I were to win?” she asked with more courage than she felt.
“The ability to walk away,” the man replied and crinkled his brow as if in thought. “Though you cannot win, I will offer you this. We will play with fifty coins to make the game that much more exciting. If I lose, not only will this agreement of our marriage be void, but I shall hand over this very estate to you.”
Emma could not help but smile, for she had no doubt that she could win.
“But if you lose, not only will you marry me, but Bracken there will remain here at my home and serve me as my personal valet. Yes, that would bring me great joy to have him serve me in front of you.”
This caused a collective gasp around the room, and Emma felt worry settle over her. She turned toward Michael.
“You will best him,” Michael whispered.
“But it is too much to risk,” Emma replied. “To think of what you would be forced to endure!”
Michael smiled. “Then do not lose.”
Lord Oswald raised a hand. “Because I am being generous, I have one more condition.”
Emma frowned. What was this man up to now?
“I wish Bracken to be my opponent.”
***
Michael had felt as though the world had been handed to him when Emma beat Whisken, but as soon as that feeling came, it was gone, now replaced with dread. He, Lord Michael Bracken, was to play a game of chance against the very man who had taken everything from him - and the man meant to do it again.
A great sense of trepidation came over Michael. It was as though his heart would stop beating and his legs would no longer hold his weight.
“George,” Lord Whisken said with a snap of his fingers, “go to my safe and retrieve the deed to this estate.”
The large man stared at Lord Whisken with wide eyes. “But, my lord…”
Lord Whisken gave George such a stare, that the man bowed and nearly ran to do his bidding.
Michael turned to Emma, whose eyes gleamed with hope he did not feel. How could she smile in the face of what was likely to happen?
“Emma,” he said in a low whisper as those around them spoke in quiet, but excited, conversation, “I cannot beat this man in parlay. I may have changed since we first met, but I am still a failure.”
Emma took his hand and led him to an empty corner. “You are not a failure,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument. “You can best this man, I know it!”
Michael studied the tiles on the floor, ashamed to look into her eyes. “I have tried to get revenge for what he did to me before, and I lost everything. Now I’m going to lose you to him. Truly my story is complete for I am…” He could not finish the statement.
“What?” Emma demanded. “What are you?”
“A failure. A man who has lost everything because of his foolishness.”
“What else?”
He growled. “I’m afraid, if you must know! I’m afraid of a repeat of what occurred before!”
She took his hand in hers. “There is nothing wrong with being fearful,” she said. “I am terrified.”
When he looked up at her, he was surprised to see a smile on her lips. “But…”
“If you win,” she said, not allowing him to speak, “you not only save me from being forced to marry that man, but you also receive his estate. With your own lands returned to you, you will have everything save one thing.”
Michael raised his brows in confusion. “And what is that?”
“Belief in yourself. Michael, you can no longer live in the past. You must make a stand for everything you have at this moment.” She pulled him behind a large fern and kissed his hand. “I believe in you, my hero.”
Michael’s posture straightened and the tension left his shoulders. He was no longer the Michael of old, but rather a new man. One who had been hidden beneath a shell of self-loathing. Yet, he was Lord Michael Bracken, Baron Bracken.
And barons always won wagers.
“It is time for me to go and finish this once and for all.”
Emma pulled him back. “Before you leave,” she said just as Lord Whisken called for the game to start, “know two things. Ignore his words, for they are meant to agitate and confuse you. And his fingers, they will show you much if you watch them.”
With a nod, he gave her hands a squeeze, took a deep breath and headed toward the table where sat Lord Whisken. The man who had ruined his life and meant to do so again.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The deeds to both estates as well as the document proclaiming Emma’s hand belonging to Lord Oswald sat to one side on the table as the onlookers crowded around. Each man had fifty coins stacked in front of him. All was silent except for the shuffling of cards.
Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was playing for the life of not only him, but for Emma’s, as well.
“It feels as though we have been here before,” Lord Whisken said with a light chuckle as he began to deal the cards. “If I recall correctly, you lost everything.”
“And if you recall, you were many years younger,” Michael retorted, his gaze never leaving the man. A few snickered at the remark.
Lord Whisken snorted, and the game began. Each man rolled his die, and then Michael conceded defeat on the first hand.
“This will be a very quick game,” Lord Whisken said. “My new bride will be excited to see her new bedchambers. Our bedchambers.”
Ignoring the man’s taunts, Michael dealt the cards. Much to his dismay, the round ended the same as before, and what little confidence he had brought to the table receded further.
“Down ten coins already,” Lord Whisken chuckled. “You will be done before the hour draws midnight.”
Several people in the crowd chuckled, and Michael glanced at Emma. She stood beside her friend, but her eyes glinted.
‘I believe in you,’ she mouthed to him, and his heart soared, renewing him once again. When he turned back to his cards, he kept his face solemn as a jack and a nine were overturned.
“Odds,” Lord Whisken said, turning over another card to reveal a king. “I’m fortunate, indeed. Ten coins.”
Michael felt his heart jump, and he took a moment to consider his next move. Panic rose, but then he remembered Emma’s advice. He studied Lord Whisken’s eyes, but the other man gave no indication of bluffing. In fact, he pretended to look at his own cards and made no movement with his hands.
“No parlay?” Lord Whisken asked.
“No,” Michael replied. “I retreat.” He lost five coins in that round, but he was not willing to lose more.
Lord Whisken chuckled as he tossed his cards into the middle without turning them.
Then Michael’s luck began to change when he won the next two hands. Then a third.
As they finished the round, Michael smiled as Lord Whisken took a drink of his brandy, but when the man set the glass back on the table, he grinned.
“Did you ever ask yourself why Caroline returned to me?”
Michael gathered the cards and replied, “I do not care.”
“After our first encounter, I told her that I could fulfill her every desire. Fine dresses, jewelry, I even promised her I would see her granted a divorce.”
Michael dealt the cards, doing his best to ignore the man, or at least to not react. It was not easy.
“Of course, each time she returned to
me in hopes that I would follow through on that last, hoping I would speak to you. Yet, I kept her in my bed, leaving my promises for another day.”
Michael rolled the die. “Odds.” He turned over a jack. “Three coins.”
Without hesitation, Lord Whisken matched the bet and then rolled. “Evens.” He revealed a king. “Five coins.”
Michael pushed forward the required match as the crowd watched in anticipation.
“Then she became with child,” Lord Whisken continued as if he had not paused to play the round. “My child.” He laughed. “And to spite you, I told her to name the boy Michael.”
Rage filled Michael, but he fought it down as he peeked at his cards. With relief he saw another jack. “Seven coins.” He would not allow this man to provoke him! He had to remember Emma’s advice!
Lord Whisken matched it without thought and then looked at his cards. In one fluid motion, he looked up and pushed forward the remaining coins. “Do you parlay, Bracken? Or do you retreat?”
Michael swallowed hard as his heart rate increased. If he were to match the wager and the man bested him, it would leave Michael with only eight coins. No player could come back from that.
“Retreat, Bracken, unless you want to send another woman you love to my bed.”
Michael took a deep breath and studied the other man.
“His fingers will tell you much if you watch them.”
Then he smiled as the man’s little finger tapped the edge of the table three times. This was it. If Emma was right, the man was bluffing. Everything Michael wanted in life was before him, and if he desired it enough, he would have to call the wager.
“Soon, Emma will carry my child, and you will watch me raise the boy as you serve me.” His finger tapped again. “Come, Bracken. I need an answer.”
Then Lord Michael Bracken, Baron Bracken, smiled, for he finally believed in himself. “Lord Whisken, before I give you my answer, I must say one thing. A motto of sorts by which I once lived.”
“And what is that?”
“Barons always win wagers.” He gave the man a wide smile. “Parlay.” With that, he pushed forward the coins and turned his cards to reveal a second jack.
Barons Always Win Wagers (Forbidden Kisses Book 3) Page 19
