Devil in Spring (The Ravenels 3) - Page 41

The duke glanced over his shoulder with an arched brow. “I thought it would benefit you to learn about worldly vice firsthand, so you would know what to avoid in the future.”

Gabriel turned back to Pandora with a glint of self-mocking amusement in his eyes. “Now I’ll never know if I could have earned a misspent youth on my own, instead of having it handed to me on a silver platter.”

“What are you going to do to the carrot?” she demanded.

“Patience,” he cautioned, retrieving a fresh deck of cards from a stack on a nearby tray table. He opened the box and set it aside. Not above showing off, he shuffled the cards in midair, executing a riffle and bridge cascade.

Pandora’s eyes widened. “How do you do that without a table?” she asked.

“It’s all in how you hold the deck.” With one hand, he divided the deck in half and flipped both halves onto the back of his hand. With breathtaking dexterity, he tossed the two packets of cards into the air so that they spun around completely and landed in perfect reverse order in his palm. He continued with a rapid succession of flourishes, making the cards fly from one hand to the other in a fluid stream, then blossom into a pair of circular fans that snapped shut. All of it was magically graceful and quick.

Devon, who had come with Ivo to watch the proceedings, gave a low whistle of admiration. “Remind me never to play cards with him,” he told Ivo. “I would lose my entire estate within minutes.”

“I’m a mediocre player at best,” Gabriel said, spinning a single card on his fingertip as if it were a pinwheel. “My talent with cards is limited to pointless entertainment.”

Leaning close to Pandora, Devon counseled as if imparting a great secret, “Every card sharp begins by lulling you into a false sense of superiority.”

Pandora was so mesmerized by Gabriel’s card manipulations that she barely heard the advice.

“I may not be able to do this straight off,” Gabriel warned. “Usually I need some practice first.” He retreated to a distance of approximately fifteen feet from the table, and the nearby whist game paused temporarily as the gentlemen watched the proceedings.

Holding the corner of a single card between his index and middle fingers, Gabriel drew his arm back as if for an overhand throw. He focused on the carrot with narrowed eyes. His arm moved in a fast forward pitch, finishing with a flick of his wrist, and the card shot through the air. An inch-long section of the carrot was instantly severed. Lightning-fast, Gabriel threw a second card, and the rest of the carrot was divided in half.

Laughter and a smattering of applause came from around the room, and the children at the sideboard exclaimed in delight.

“Impressive,” Devon said to Gabriel with a grin. “If I could do that in a tavern, I’d never have to pay for a drink. How much practice did it take?”

“Regrettably, bushels of innocent carrots were sacrificed over a period of years.”

“Well worth it, I’d say.” Devon glanced at Pandora, his eyes twinkling. “With your permission, I’ll rejoin the whist game before they boot me out of it.”

“Of course,” she said.

Ivo observed the group of children still at the sideboard, and heaved a sigh. “They’re out of control,” he said. “I suppose I’ll have to do something about it.” He executed a precise bow in Pandora’s direction. “You look very pretty tonight, Lady Pandora.”

“Thank you, Ivo,” she said demurely, and grinned as Ivo hurried away to herd his charges from the room. “What a little rogue,” she said.

“I think our grandfather—his namesake—would have doted on him,” Gabriel replied. “There’s more Jenner than Challon in Ivo, which is to say more fire than ice.”

“The Ravenels are rather too fiery,” Pandora said ruefully.

“So I’ve heard.” Gabriel looked amused. “Does that include you?”

“Yes, but I’m not angry all that often, it’s more that I’m . . . excitable.”

“I enjoy a woman with a lively nature.”

“That’s a very nice way to put it, but I’m not just lively.”

“Yes, you’re also beautiful.”

“No”—Pandora swallowed back an uncomfortable laugh—“no compliments, remember. I didn’t say ‘I’m not just lively’ to imply that I have other qualities, I meant that I’m extremely, inconveniently lively in a way that makes me terribly difficult to live with.”

“Not for me.”

She glanced at him uncertainly. Something in his voice caused a flutter in her stomach, like flower tendrils delicately searching for places to adhere.

“Would you like to play a game of whist?” he asked.

“Just the two of us?”

“At the small table near the window.” As she hesitated, he pointed out, “We’re in the company of at least two dozen people.”

There could be no harm in that. “Yes, but you should be warned: My cousin West taught me whist, and I’m very good at it.”

He smiled. “I’ll expect a fleecing, then.”

After Gabriel had obtained a sealed deck of cards, they went to the screened windows. He seated Pandora at a small marquetry table inlaid with precious woods that depicted a Japanese bonsai tree and a pagoda hung with tiny mother-of-pearl lanterns.

Gabriel opened the cards, shuffled them expertly and dealt thirteen apiece. He set the rest of the deck facedown on the table and turned the top card faceup. Whist was a trick-taking game with two stages: In the first stage, players tried to collect the best cards for themselves, and in the second, they competed to win the most tricks.

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