Page 75 of How to Tempt an Earl

“Not all is as it appears.” He steered her away from Lady Bellow’s hazard table and led her around the casino floor. Her interest was piqued. If Lady Bellows was here, who else of her acquaintance frequented the club?

She spotted a worker coming from a door concealed in one of the paneled walls. “Where does that lead?”

“There are hidden corridors that lead to private gaming rooms.”

Private rooms? The place was much bigger than she’d originally thought. Her eyes were wide as they passed numerous tables. “Is that Lady Creecy?”

His expression grew grim. “Her husband hits her. He doesn’t know she’s here.”

Grace knew her husband, the Earl of Creecy, and had never liked him. He was arrogant, and she’d once heard him speak to his wife in a condescending manner at a ball. “If he ever found out, his wrath would be horrible.”

“It’s safe for her here. She knows I wouldn’t permit her husband membership. He’s tried and I’ve turned him away.”

“Why?”

“This is a safe haven for Lady Creecy. I’ve offered to send her to the country, but she refuses to leave her husband. They have two young boys.”

She looked at Ian with renewed interest. He donated to orphanages and asylums and protected women from their abusive husbands. Just when she’d thought she’d understood him, she’d unearthed a different side to him.

He stopped and glanced at her. “This is where I thought would be a good fit for you.”

She tore her gaze away from his arresting face to notice that he’d led her to a vingt-et-un table. “Here?”

“This game requires more skill. I think you’d be good at it.”

“You can’t believe I’d place a wager?”

“If you wager properly, it is quite fun.”

A nagging feeling settled in her stomach. “By wagering properly, do you mean not losing my head like my father?”

His voice softened. “There will always be reckless gamblers, Grace. You cannot stop that from happening. But gambling is everywhere. From the betting book at White’s, to balls and parties, even Almack’s has a gambling room.”

“I know,” she said. Society, it seemed, was determined to wager on something.

“Your father has other problems. He’s addicted to drink as much as he is to the cards. I would continue to turn him away, but there are far more dangerous places, gambling hells in Pall Mall, that will take him. It’s best if he continues to gamble here where he can be watched.”

He was right. The all-too-familiar feelings of helplessness, frustration, and anger coursed through her at her father’s weaknesses.

“I showed you this table because I wanted you to know that I’ve made some of your changes,” he said.

She looked up in bewilderment. “What changes?”

“I removed two hazard tables and replaced one with this vingt-et-un table. As you can see, it’s busy.”

“What did you put in place of the other table?”

“Roulette. You told me they were both the most profitable.”

He’d followed her advice? She was surprised and genuinely flattered. He’d claimed he appreciated her intelligence, but for him to change his casino based on her suggestions showed her that he’d been truthful. His actions spoke to her more than his words. Part of herself fell more in love with him.

Dangerous.

He hadn’t voiced his feelings for her. She knew he didn’t love her, but did he care for her?

“Show me the roulette wheel,” she said, then followed him to where a group of people stood by a spinning wheel.

He handed her a coin. “Go ahead. Place your bet. Just once. It’s harmless and for no other purpose than for fun.”