Page 10 of A Lyon’s Lesson

“Place your bets, gentlemen.”

Obediently, each man placed a ten-pound rouleau into the pot before him.

Aphrodite broke open a pack of cards and shuffled.

The man to his left, a slightly swarthy looking gentleman with a strong scent of tobacco about him, led the betting for the first round. Rick took a look at his cards and suppressed a smile. Lady luck was with him so far. He held a wild card and two aces. In effect, short of a man having a prial of three threes, he couldn’t lose. He frowned, however, to hide his glee and waited with apparent indifference until it was his turn to bet. He then placed a counter to the value of fifty pounds in the pot, forcing anyone else who wanted to stay in the round to equal his bet or fold. Four gentlemen bet, and the rest folded. He then increased the stakes again and two more gentlemen dropped out, leaving himself and one other, a dark-haired man who had been sitting back in shadow until now. As he leaned forward to equal Rick’s stake, Rick felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

He was almost certain the man was Bidenden. When his opponent raised his head and stared straight at him with a slight smile, he knew it was. Damn and blast! His hand resting on the table tightened involuntarily into a fist, and he had to school his features not to show his reaction.

“Show your cards gentlemen,” instructed Aphrodite.

Rick turned his ace of diamonds over and watched Bidenden’s face go from confident to surly as he realized he was beaten.

A blond man on Rick’s right gave a soft chuckle. Rick ran his eyes over the gentleman’s form. He was well-dressed in dark blue and, judging from the strong jaw visible beneath the mask, a handsome devil. He lounged at his ease in his chair and Rick rather thought he knew who he was, too: his brother’s nemesis, the Earl of Lannister, a notorious gamester. It made sense that he was here.

Despite Rick’s auspicious beginning, four games later he had lost half of what he’d won in that first game. But he was still ahead, since his losses only counted as half their value when added to his debt. Some other gentlemen were not faring so well, and he wasn’t surprised when two of them refused to continue to the next stage of the game and left the room after settling with the Abacus Woman.

A prickle of unease crept down his spine and a mild panic seized his stomach. He had to win, because he couldn’t settle the debt he owed tonight. He’d have to sell his horses—the notion made him feel sick. Robert would murder him.

He took a deep breath and shook off the attack of nerves. Panic would not serve him in what was to come.

“For the next five games, gentlemen, your winnings will double in reducing your debt, but your losses will count as one for one. Ready?” asked Aphrodite.

An hour and five games later, Rick had reduced his debt by three thousand pounds and only he, Bidenden, and Lannister were still in the game. Lannister had done well in the last two sets, and Rick was rather surprised he was prepared to continue. Bidenden’s luck had been inconsistent, with some big wins and big losses.

Rick sipped his whisky and waited for Aphrodite to tell them about the rules for the next set. The music, which had been playing softly throughout, swelled to a climax and then dropped into silence. A slight scraping noise drew his eyes to the ceiling above the table, and he watched fascinated as a disc began to descend from the ceiling. As it did so, a figure appeared bit by bit in the light, standing on the disc and clinging to a pole attached to it.

The figure was undoubtedly female, swathed in a semi-transparent white chiton that revealed more than it hid of the woman’s generously curved but petite body. Suspended from her neck was a silver crescent, symbol of Diana, goddess of the moon. Her face was predictably covered in a full silver mask and her hair covered by a glittering silver veil.

What now?

Aphrodite took up the cards, a smile on her lips, her dark eyes twinkling behind her mask. “A little reward, gentlemen, for staying the course. If you win, of course. Five more games to determine your fate,” she said. “For every game you win, your remaining debt will be reduced by a quarter of its value. For every game you lose, it will increase by one third. Ready?”

Bidenden won the first two games and Lannister the third. Rick was sweating. He was about to lose everything he had won this night and rise from the table in greater debt than when he sat down.

Aphrodite shuffled the cards and said casually, “The minimum stake is now five hundred pounds gentlemen.”

“The maximum?” asked Bidenden, his neckcloth hanging undone and his hair tousled. Rick supposed he looked much the same. Only Lannister still appeared unruffled. The man had nerves of iron.

“There is no maximum, you can bid as high as you like.”

She then dealt the cards. Lannister’s exposed card was the ace of diamonds, Rick’s the ten of clubs and Bidenden’s the three of hearts. Rick had nothing but a pair of twos. Lannister took the pot with a smile and shoved all his rouleaux forward. “I’m all in, gentlemen.”

Rick folded and Bidenden, after a short debate, did likewise.

Lannister laughed and rose from his seat. Bowing to them both and kissing Aphrodite’s hand, he said, “I bid you goodnight and wish you luck gentlemen. Thank you, fair goddess. You have saved me this night.” He sauntered over to the Abacus Woman and left the room shortly after a quiet colloquy.

While Aphrodite was reaching for a new deck, Rick’s eyes were drawn to the still figure suspended from the ceiling above her head. She was watching him. He then became aware of a presence at his elbow. It was the black widow of Whitehall, Bessie Dove-Lyon. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in to murmur in his ear, “Are you taken with our little Diana?”

Rick tensed, because the prickle that had been plaguing him all night suddenly grew much worse. Bidenden had his eyes on the goddess in question, an expression in them of arrested attention.

“Do you recognize her?” asked Mrs. Dove-Lyon softly. “For I think your opponent has. The stakes just got very high indeed. Will you let him have her after all?”

“Damn you, what are you playing at?” whispered Rick.

Mrs. Dove-Lyon straightened. “It’s up to you. Winner takes all.” She nodded to Aphrodite and stepped back into the shadows.

Rick turned back to catch Bidenden’s predatory smile across the table at him. His stomach muscles tightened, and his jaw clenched. Damn it!