“And why would I do that?” Matthew countered. “I have the funds to pay.”
“Because you know I’m on a losing streak and you’re a gentleman who scoffs at the idea of defeat. Tell me honestly, do you not find the thought of wiping the smug grin off my face appealing?”
“Punching the smug grin from your face would be my preference.”
It would take more than a threat to weaken the lord’s self-assured stance. “Unless you wish to stand back-to-back at dawn, I’m afraid cards must be the combat of choice.”
Matthew pursed his lips to give the impression he was deep in thought, but Priscilla knew he was merely stringing the lord along. “Will we have random partners?”
Boden’s mouth curled up into a conceited smirk. “I will choose my own partner. I'll not play with a dimwit.”
“Then name your man?”
“Parker-Brown will partner me. We work well together. There is no one I trust more.”
The revelation was far from shocking.
“Then it is only fair I name my partner,” Matthew said.
“Of course.” Boden gave an indolent wave. “Name your man.”
“Man?” A chuckle burst from Matthew’s lips. “I name Mrs Chandler as my partner. We work well together. There is no one I trust more.”
For the first time since setting eyes on the pompous lord, his passive expression appeared ruffled. “Choose someone else. I’ll not take money from a woman.”
“When you take money from my husband are you not also taking it from me.” As a woman’s possessions became the property of her husband upon marriage, Boden could offer no argument. “Whether I play or not, for me the outcome is the same. You can have no other objection. Unless you find my presence intimidating.”
Boden stroked his chin as he considered her. “Men play ruthlessly, Mrs Chandler. I’ll not hold my tongue or bide my manners under any circumstances. Feminine gasps and sighs put me off my game.”
“You need not concern yourself with me, my lord.” A few weeks ago she might have faltered under the lord’s merciless stare. “One needs a strong constitution when one’s home is a venue for scandalous parties. I have seen and heard enough to eradicate all delicate sensibilities.”
“You’ll find my wife is a true original,” Matthew added. “There is not much that phases her. But if you refuse to accept her as my partner, I’ll not play.”
Matthew stepped forward and placed his hand on Priscilla’s lower back. “Come. Let us be on our way.”
“Do not be so hasty, Mr Chandler. Will you not give a fellow a chance to reply?” There was a faint hint of desperation in Boden’s voice which he tried to mask. “I have made my decision and agree to your terms. Mrs Chandler may partner you in the game. After all, what gentleman would reject an opportunity to sit next to such a fascinating creature.”
Creature? Was she supposed to find the comment flattering? The odious lord thought himself far superior.
“Then might I suggest you come to Grosvenor Street on Friday evening. I’m hosting a party, and our wager will provide amusement for my guests.”
“Are you sure you want an audience when I take you for twenty thousand pounds?”
Matthew opened his mouth but snapped it shut. He offered the lord a bow though the gesture failed to convey respect. “Only a fool would attempt to predict the hand of Fate.”
With a firm hand, Matthew guided Priscilla away.
“Chandler,” Boden called out after him. “May I commend you on making at least one wise decision.”
“What?” Matthew glanced back over his shoulder. “You think a man is wise to risk a fortune?”
Priscilla felt Boden’s penetrating gaze like an icy chill breezing across her skin.
“I was not referring to the game, Chandler, but to your wife. It appears there are some treasures money cannot buy.”
Chapter 15
As any gentleman with a hardened heart knew, jealousy was a foreign emotion. Mental unease served no purpose. To experience the debilitating condition, one must fear their rival, lack faith in their own abilities, or care so deeply for something all rational thought was lost to them.