Mullworth hung his head and shrank back into the crowd.
“Are you well?” Mr Parker-Brown shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. The man had taken but three sips of his drink and looked at his partner with an air of bewilderment. “Why don’t we stretch our legs before we reconvene?”
“You speak as though I’m infirm. Now be quiet and let me deal the bloody cards.”
Boden practically threw the cards at them and was forced to reshuffle and start again when a few flipped face up. This time he didn’t bother to ask Priscilla to pick the trump card but followed the rule that last one dealt denoted the key suit.
Priscilla examined her hand and glanced up at Matthew. “Are you ready to win another game?”
A mischievous grin formed on his lips. “You know me. I’m always ready.”
The first few tricks were always the hardest to win. The more cards played, the easier it was to work out what was left. Matthew and Priscilla won the first hand, Boden the second and third. Come the fourth hand, the lord’s movements were slower. Judging by Parker-Brown’s mumbled moans, they were struggling with the language of silent communication.
And so it went on, trick after trick.
“Winning this trick gives us five points and means we’ve won the game.” Matthew’s voice whilst conveying a hint of loathing, smouldered with satisfaction.
“I can damn well count,” Boden snapped. “You sound like a bloody governess determined to make a point.”
Parker-Brown’s bottom lip wobbled. “I trust you were not relying on Mr Chandler’s promissory note to pay creditors.”
“Of course not.” Lord Boden’s cheeks puffed and glowed red. “Do you take me for one of these debauched fools?”
Members of the crowd gasped at the lord’s audacity. Muttered curses breezed through the room. The air was heavy with disdain though no one openly challenged his comment.
Matthew leant over the table towards Lord Boden. “It’s your turn to play.”
The card quivered in Boden’s fingers. Still, his cruel mouth formed an arrogant curl. “Let’s see if you can beat the knave of hearts.” He threw the card onto the table, sat back and folded his arms across his chest.
From what Priscilla had counted, and from reading the signs, Matthew had the nine of hearts. When he threw it down, Boden gave a mocking snort. The spectators in the front row sighed with disappointment.
“It seems your confidence is misplaced,” Lord Boden derided.
“Thankfully, a trick requires four cards, not two,” Matthew countered.
“Mr Parker-Brown,” Priscilla prompted. “It is your turn to play.”
The man’s nervous gaze flicked about the room. The three of clubs fell from his grasp and landed on the table.
“Bloody idiot.” Boden was far from pleased.
Priscilla fought hard to hide any sign of emotion. She stared at the card in her hand, her vision growing hazy, her mind playing its own tricks.
A tense silence filled the room. Fifty pairs of eyes watched and waited.
“As the lady of the house, it seems fitting that this should be the last card of play
.” Allowing a wide grin to form, she placed the queen of hearts on top of the pile. “It seems that a woman’s love is the key to success.”
Matthew’s green eyes shone brightly. “I trust you are right.”
Mr Parker-Brown bowed his head.
Boden snatched the queen off the table, flipped it over in his fingers and then held it up to examine it further. “You can’t have won.” The devil’s own fury filled Boden’s eyes. He waved at the footman. “Pour me a large brandy while I examine the cards.”
Many men booed and jeered.
“They’ve won, Boden. They’ve beat you.”