Page 44 of A Figure of Love

Serena had no idea what his aggressively knowing look meant and couldn’t help wondering if he was foxed. She hadn’t noticed how much he’d drank during dinner, but, then again, she hadn’t been paying attention to him. Why would she when Gareth Lockheart was in the room? He looked like a statue, as usual, but she would have sworn he was furious.

“The rules are very simple—you wish to accumulate vingt-et-un, but nothing greater than that. I will give you two cards, and you may ask for more. The ace has a special role in that it can represent either one point, or eleven.” His hands, which had been shuffling the cards nonstop, halted. He glanced around. “But wait, we have no stakes.”

“No.”

McElroy and Serena both turned to Lockheart.

“What’s that you say, Gare?”

“I said no stakes. There will be no gambling. Deal the cards, Declan.”

The men locked eyes and it was the Irishman who first broke away. He chuckled and shrugged, his hands resuming their rhythmic motions. “I will abide by the will of our host, Mrs. Lombard. You will just have to image the excitement, the air thick with tension as men—and women! —wager their fortunes, their ancestors’ homes, their very lives.” The fire was not the only thing crackling in the room by the time he ceased speaking.

“Now,” he said, his voice back to its normal tone and register. “There are many variations of the game, but I will play the one I prefer. The first card face down,” he dealt three cards, “and you would look at it—oh, but do not let anyone else see,” he chided when Serena picked up her card, a four of tiles. “Now, put it down.” She noticed Lockheart had not uncrossed his arms or looked at his card. His eyes were fixed on his friend. “At this point,” McElroy continued, “You would place a bet and I, as the dealer, would be responsible for covering your money. If you did well, you might become the bank later in the evening. Here is your second card.” He dealt three, these face up. Serena was dealt a seven, giving her eleven, and Lockheart a ten, and McElroy a two.

“Would you like another card, Mrs. Lombard?”

“Yes, please.”

He dealt her an ace. She frowned: twenty-two or twelve.

“Another?”

“Yes.”

He dealt her a ten.

“Oh, bother!” she said, laughing.

“For shame, Mrs. Lombard. I would now be raking your coins across the table to my pile.” He turned to Lockheart. “Gareth?”

A vein jumped in Lockheart’s temple, but he finally uncrossed his arms and looked at the bottom card. He shook his head.

“Ah,” McElroy grinned. “What is Mr. Lockheart’s hidden card? That ten of his makes me nervous. I must assume the worst, Mrs. Lombard—that Mr. Lockheart has a second ten. That means I must take another card.”

He flipped over his hidden card, which was a ten, for a total of twelve. Serena would have thought he’d wanted another card in any case.

His next card was a six. “Eighteen.” He looked from Serena, to his friend. “What do you think, Mrs. Lombard? Does he have a ten hidden? Or a five?”

“A five? Surely he would have taken another card if he had only fifteen.”

McElroy smiled, his eyes never leaving Lockheart’s. “Is that true, Gareth?”

Lockheart sighed and McElroy laughed. “I will stand.”

Lockheart flipped over his hidden card.

“Twenty!” Serena clapped her hands, happier about his victory than was entirely warranted. Lockheart himself did not seem to care one way or the other. Of course there was no money at stake, which might have accounted for his lack of reaction.

McElroy scraped up the used cards and deposited them in a pile face down. “I shall deal the remainder of this deck and then you will be the dealer, Mrs. Lombard.”

Serena found she was enjoying the game by the third or fourth hand, even though she had only won once. Lockheart, on the other hand, seemed to win each time, and look just as happy about it as he had the first time.

McElroy chatted almost nonstop as he dealt, easily able to do three or even four things at one time.

“I see you have a large block of marble in the stables, Mrs. Lombard but have not yet commenced carving?”

“That is correct. I am still making sketches.”