five,” he said.
“Value?”
“Forty-four.”
“No good.”
“Three kings?”
“No good.”
Resigned to a second-rate hand, Nick led his ace of diamonds.
Lord Thomas declared, “Point of five, tierce in spades, fourteen tens.” He followed suit with the eight of diamonds, while Nick marked the score on the board.
Having no second ace with which to take advantage of the nine points down, Nick played a seven. By the end of the hand, the unguarded king of spades he had kept in hopes of drawing the fourth king caused him to lose seven tricks, leaving him a net score for the hand of eight to Lord Thomas’s forty.
“Take care you ain’t routed,” that gentleman said, grinning.
Nick gave him a look, shuffled, and began to deal the cards.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
They looked up as one to find Lord Yarborne standing beside them. A man with more than fifty summers behind him, he was fashionably dressed in a dark blue coat, light pantaloons, highly polished shoes, and snowy white linen. Looking from one to the other with a benign smile, he said, “Forgive me for interrupting your game, but I’ve not had a spare moment since I saw you today at the Heath, Vexford, to inquire after the health of your estimable sire.”
“He is perfectly stout, sir, thank you.”
Despite Tommy’s earlier suggestion that Yarborne was acquainted with Ulcombe, Nick had not been aware that the two were particularly friendly. He could not recall Ulcombe’s ever mentioning Yarborne’s name, and that fact must have reflected itself in his expression, for Yarborne said, “I had the honor to be of some service to him, you know, in his recent arrangements to endow a home for blind orphans, and I believe he said I could expect to see him here at the Spring Meeting.”
“To be sure, one can generally rely upon him to attend,” Nick agreed, “but he’s spent so much time of late with the orphanage that estate matters required his presence at Owlcastle this week. He won’t miss the Epsom Derby, however. You can be sure of meeting him there.”
“I daresay I shall see him in town before then,” Yarborne said easily. Turning to Lord Thomas, he said in a bantering, almost avuncular tone, “I hear your luck was out tonight at the hazard table, my boy. Hope you haven’t gone and earned yourself a lecture from that parson brother of yours. I’m told he arrived this afternoon.”
“Oh, yes, Dory’s here, all right and tight,” Thomas replied, “but he’s not one for chafing a fellow, you know. Got his own trials to bear.”
“Altogether a most worthy man, I’m told, though I’ve never had an opportunity to become formally acquainted with him.”
“Oh, he’s worthy enough, is Dory,” Thomas said with a chuckle, “but just now he’s more concerned with dancing round a parson’s mousetrap than with accomplishing deeds of rectitude or poking his nose into anyone else’s affairs.”
“He is ten years your senior, is he not? Do you say that he has formed an attachment at last with an eligible female?”
“Worse,” declared Lord Thomas, eyes atwinkle. “A predatory widow’s taken a fancy to him. That’s why he took it into his noddle to take that dashed foolish walk along the Devil’s Dyke today, Nick,” he added with a wide grin. “Told me he was afraid of encountering her at the Heath, because she’s formed a dashed nuisancing habit of following him about, wherever he goes. He told me that after supper. You’d gone back to the Rutland Arms.”
Yarborne said, “I had the good fortune to dine tonight with my son, who’s come down from Oxford for the long vacation. I had expected him to accompany me back here, but he’d got himself invited to some assembly or other instead.”
“There are any number of assemblies this week, I believe,” Nick said. He thought ruefully again of Clara, only to have her glittering image replaced at once in his mind by that of a slender figure in a voluminous cloak, with
“Value?”
“Forty-four.”
“No good.”
“Three kings?”
“No good.”
Resigned to a second-rate hand, Nick led his ace of diamonds.
Lord Thomas declared, “Point of five, tierce in spades, fourteen tens.” He followed suit with the eight of diamonds, while Nick marked the score on the board.
Having no second ace with which to take advantage of the nine points down, Nick played a seven. By the end of the hand, the unguarded king of spades he had kept in hopes of drawing the fourth king caused him to lose seven tricks, leaving him a net score for the hand of eight to Lord Thomas’s forty.
“Take care you ain’t routed,” that gentleman said, grinning.
Nick gave him a look, shuffled, and began to deal the cards.
“Good evening, gentlemen.”
They looked up as one to find Lord Yarborne standing beside them. A man with more than fifty summers behind him, he was fashionably dressed in a dark blue coat, light pantaloons, highly polished shoes, and snowy white linen. Looking from one to the other with a benign smile, he said, “Forgive me for interrupting your game, but I’ve not had a spare moment since I saw you today at the Heath, Vexford, to inquire after the health of your estimable sire.”
“He is perfectly stout, sir, thank you.”
Despite Tommy’s earlier suggestion that Yarborne was acquainted with Ulcombe, Nick had not been aware that the two were particularly friendly. He could not recall Ulcombe’s ever mentioning Yarborne’s name, and that fact must have reflected itself in his expression, for Yarborne said, “I had the honor to be of some service to him, you know, in his recent arrangements to endow a home for blind orphans, and I believe he said I could expect to see him here at the Spring Meeting.”
“To be sure, one can generally rely upon him to attend,” Nick agreed, “but he’s spent so much time of late with the orphanage that estate matters required his presence at Owlcastle this week. He won’t miss the Epsom Derby, however. You can be sure of meeting him there.”
“I daresay I shall see him in town before then,” Yarborne said easily. Turning to Lord Thomas, he said in a bantering, almost avuncular tone, “I hear your luck was out tonight at the hazard table, my boy. Hope you haven’t gone and earned yourself a lecture from that parson brother of yours. I’m told he arrived this afternoon.”
“Oh, yes, Dory’s here, all right and tight,” Thomas replied, “but he’s not one for chafing a fellow, you know. Got his own trials to bear.”
“Altogether a most worthy man, I’m told, though I’ve never had an opportunity to become formally acquainted with him.”
“Oh, he’s worthy enough, is Dory,” Thomas said with a chuckle, “but just now he’s more concerned with dancing round a parson’s mousetrap than with accomplishing deeds of rectitude or poking his nose into anyone else’s affairs.”
“He is ten years your senior, is he not? Do you say that he has formed an attachment at last with an eligible female?”
“Worse,” declared Lord Thomas, eyes atwinkle. “A predatory widow’s taken a fancy to him. That’s why he took it into his noddle to take that dashed foolish walk along the Devil’s Dyke today, Nick,” he added with a wide grin. “Told me he was afraid of encountering her at the Heath, because she’s formed a dashed nuisancing habit of following him about, wherever he goes. He told me that after supper. You’d gone back to the Rutland Arms.”
Yarborne said, “I had the good fortune to dine tonight with my son, who’s come down from Oxford for the long vacation. I had expected him to accompany me back here, but he’d got himself invited to some assembly or other instead.”
“There are any number of assemblies this week, I believe,” Nick said. He thought ruefully again of Clara, only to have her glittering image replaced at once in his mind by that of a slender figure in a voluminous cloak, with
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