“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…
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.