Read Online Fortune's Son by Emery Lee - Free Book Online Page B

precisely what lay between them. Giving in to the urge, she leaned into him with parted lips.
    Philip didn’t hesitate. He claimed her mouth in a ravaging kiss that clearly bespoke his desire. She answered back instinctively, with an involuntary moan, but the sound of her own pleasure seemed to stir her back to her senses. She broke away with a gasp, regarding him with a look of mixed guilt and bewilderment. “ That was a mistake,” she said.
    Philip stifled a curse and raked his hair with a groan of frustration. In that fleeting kiss he had felt her reciprocal desire. There was nothing ambivalent about it, but in the same breath she kissed him, she once more rejected him.
    â€œI’ll call you a hackney,” he said tersely.
    â€œBut I don’t wish to leave.”
    â€œAre you already so infected with the fever?” he asked, his black eyes deeply probing.
    â€œIt’s complicated,” she said.
    â€œComplicated? Are you saying you are in want of money?”
    â€œIt’s uncivil to ask such a thing.”
    â€œYou didn’t answer me.” He pressed. “Is that why you’re here?”
    â€œIf you insist on knowing, I had indeed hoped to win a few pounds. I have several new gowns on order and have shamefully overspent my allowance.” She laughed lightly, as if embarrassed to have revealed such a triviality.
    â€œHow much?” he asked and reached for his purse.
    â€œWh-what?”
    â€œHow much do you need? I will make you a loan.”
    â€œI don’t need your money. Pray put away your purse. God knows what will be said, if anyone sees you hand me money!”
    â€œI only meant to keep you from the tables. They are a dangerous place.”
    â€œBut not nearly so dangerous with you to guide me. Please, Philip,” she cajoled, “accompany me to the tables.”
    He conceded with a scowl of displeasure. “If there is no dissuading you, it appears I have little choice.”
    ***
    After their brief interlude on the terrace, Philip and Lady Messingham returned inside to the clattering dice, whirring wheels, press of bodies, and peals of bawdy laughter. As they navigated the rooms, Philip positioned himself deliberately to shelter her from the undesirables, but her attention was only for the tables.
    As he guided her, Philip explained the basics of the games, warning her in particular against basset and faro.
    â€œWhy?” she asked.
    â€œThese are most dangerous and ruinous games, frequented by only the deepest and most unscrupulous players.”
    â€œThe Greeks of whom you spoke?”
    â€œAh! My prior admonitions did not fall on completely deaf ears. You just chose to ignore me.”
    She refused to take the bait. “I wished to play, but I had deplorable luck at the E-O table earlier.”
    â€œThat comes as no surprise. E-O requires no skill and is little better than a lottery, and the payoff, even when one wins, is negligible.”
    â€œThen what should I play? I am determined not to depart with an empty purse.”
    â€œEvery gamester’s most famous last words,” he chuckled.
    They had approached a table where the banker was in the process of dealing out a single card to each of four players who, in turn, examined his card and placed a wager in front of it.
    â€œWhat is this solemn game?” They stopped to observe the play. “Does the punter place his stake on just one card?”
    â€œNot quite, my lady. The game is called vingt-et-un . Although there is considerable luck involved, it also requires a certain skill.”
    â€œIndeed? Will you teach me?”
    His nod directed her toward the table, where he silently encouraged her to observe the play.
    The dealer looked at his own card without placing a stake and then dealt a second card to each player again, and finally back to himself.
    He then turned to the first player on the left. “ Carte? ”
    The gentleman frowned in