“You’re right,” he said after swallowing a mouthful of game pie. “It seems frightfully unfair of me to claim such a monumental prize.”
“Does that mean you intend to remove your shirt?”
“No. But I shall grant your wish. You asked about my dreams and aspirations. I love to paint, landscapes mainly. Were money not a factor I would like to have a studio, somewhere quiet and peaceful where I could spend my days lost in creating beautiful scenes.”
A look of wonder illuminated her face. “But surely there is time to paint and host parties? Could you not have a studio here and work during the day?”
“This may sound strange, but creativity requires a clear mind not one encumbered by the negative influences of my guests. The air here is tainted. I’ve tried to focus many times but to no avail.”
“I would love to see your work.”
The cruel taunts and jibes of his peers drifted into his mind. In truth, the hostile reaction he’d experienced as a young man played its part in stifling him too.
“Perhaps when I have a studio, maybe even a patron, then I will show you.”
She pursed her lips for a long time. “When my parents died, I imagined a place in my mind where I might visit them. If I followed the path through the forest, I would find a cottage. They were always inside, happy, together. They would hug me and tell me all was well and I would leave them and return to the real world. I visit them often.” She gave an odd little wave. “What I mean is you can create the ide
al studio in your mind. Every day when you wake you can go there.”
As Matthew listened to her wise words, an odd feeling enveloped him — one of admiration, respect, something else too. Something too complicated to define.
“How can I concentrate when my time is spent thinking of new ways to entertain the dissolute?” It was an excuse. Avoidance was the best technique when dealing with any unwarranted emotion. “I struggle to focus on anything else.”
“Then let me help you with your parties. I might not have the skills necessary to please libertines, but there must be some tasks I can attend to.”
The strange feeling was there again, swelling, pushing at his ribcage.
“I’ll consider the offer. But for now we have a game to finish.”
“There is no point asking what you’re playing for. If I win, you can tell me where you go on your nightly appointments.”
Again, he would have told her had she asked. “Perhaps we should improve the odds of success.”
“How so?”
“What about a trade? The answer in return for your petticoat. Our food is cold, and there is every chance we'll be here all night. Patience is not a virtue I aspire to master.”
A coy smile touched her lips. “Agreed.” She stood, undid the three little buttons on the back and pushed the cotton straps from her shoulders. The garment fell to the floor, and she picked it up and handed it to him.
The petticoat smelt of roses and the unique feminine scent that clung to her skin, yet he resisted the urge to bury his face in the material and inhale deeply.
“For two weeks, I’ve been touring the gaming hells,” he said. “There are three men involved in the card scam. Mr Parker-Brown, Lord Lawrence Boden and Mr Justin Travant.” The last gentleman named had not been seen about town in recent weeks. “The men communicate via a complex system of gestures and signals. I have been following their progress, making notes, deciphering the language. Tonight, I intend to observe them at play to test my theory. After that, well, I shall play one more game with the intention of taking back what they stole.”
“Tonight? You’re going to a gaming hell this evening?”
“I’ve no choice. Their substantial win at Lord Holbrook’s party attracted too much attention. They have since taken to using their skills for deception in the backstreet establishments.”
“Do women visit these hells?”
Did Priscilla not trust him?
“Some.” They were mostly the ladies of the demi-monde. Women who’d lost favour. The wives of scoundrels and rogues. And then there were the destitute ladies who’d rather try their hand at cards than be any man’s mistress. “But I have no interest in bedding other women if that’s what concerns you.”
She shook her head. “No, I've already said I trust you. But I would like to come with you if I may.”
Was she intent on courting scandal?
“I refuse to take my wife to a gaming hell.”