Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,102

like interesting stakes.”

“Interesting?” she queried.

He tilted his head, considering her. “Sometimes exorbitant amounts of money, but more often property such as real estate and jewelry.”

“I see.” Her ring had been part of a wager.

“And women,” Jasper added, his voice so soft she almost missed it.

A tremor of shock rocked her. “You mean women can be offered as a wager in a game of cards?”

“Yes.” He wore the smallest of smiles, giving her pause.

“And do you go to Rudley’s?”

“I have in the past, not for a couple years. I don’t need to win a woman,” he pointed out.

Grateful for his honesty, she couldn’t help wishing he weren’t quite so mesmerizing, to her or to other females.

“My ring was part of the stakes at Rudley’s, and the baron is not supposed to be gambling. The baroness doesn’t approve. Is that it?”

“Precisely. And his luck held well that night. He boasted to me after a glass of brandy. Not only was your ring tossed in when his opponent was out of all else, but he received a night with a particularly talented Cyprian. Naturally, he doesn’t want Lady Stridewell to know any of that.”

“Naturally,” Julia echoed quietly. Then her curiosity got the better of her. “During the card game, does the woman stand there, knowing she is part of the stakes?”

“Yes. If one has such a high-flier at one’s disposal for the night, she’s been paid in advance and up for the excitement. She usually stands nearby, in all her finery, showing her wares. Sometimes, things get quite heated if her value goes up while they’re in the middle of a game.”

Julia tried to imagine the scene.

“But who had my ring?” she asked, recalling what was important.

“Lord Evingdon. Were you at his home recently?”

“Yes, I went to a dinner party.”

“Did you steal from him?” he asked immediately.

Julia made a face. “Did he steal from me? That’s the question.”

“Doubtful,” Jasper said. “Most of my set do not go around spicing their guests.”

Julia thought about the Evingdon party. “There was a dance first and then a meal. My sister’s maid will have a record of what I wore, but I seem to recall I had on a coral-colored gown and fussy gloves with pearls.” It came to her in a flash. “The gloves were a tad too tight. I bet my ring came off when I removed them for dinner and put them in my lap. If my ring ended up in my lap, when I stood up, it might have dropped under the table without my noticing. I suppose it’s possible there was nothing nefarious about the loss after all.”

And she’d spent weeks thinking it had somehow been stolen.

“A servant must have found your ring while cleaning, and being honest,” he pointedly emphasized the word, “he or she turned it in to Lord Evingdon rather than pocketing it.”

“Then Lord Evingdon used it as part of his wager. Along with his mistress,” Julia concluded.

“Precisely. Baron Stridewell said he felt a little guilty over accepting the Cyprian’s services so he gave the ring to his wife.”

“How philanthropic of him,” Julia remarked. “I thank you for retrieving it, although it was mean of you not simply to give it back to me.”

Jasper shrugged. If he’d hoped for a quick tupping in exchange for his good deed, then he hadn’t got his part of the bargain either. Yet. Almost instantly, she could see his thoughts going in such a direction once more.

When he began to undress her again with his eyes, she asked, “Did you bring cards perchance?”

“Naturally not,” he said. “I believed I would be alone.”

“What would you have done through the entire journey?” If she’d had the chance to plan, she would have brought a good book and maybe some needlepoint.

“Believe it or not, when I leave the hurly-burly of London and am ensconced in my coach, I welcome the quiet and solitude. I wouldn’t ‘do’ anything, nor would I feel compelled to converse.”

She hesitated. “Am I a dreadful intrusion?”

Jasper put his head back and laughed before asking, “Do I strike you as such a rash idiot as to answer that question in the affirmative?”

Glad for his laughter, she said, “I suppose not.”

“You are a welcome intrusion,” he said. “Moreover, I have a satchel filled with newspapers and Parliamentary bills.”

Better than nothing, she supposed. “Shall we read, then? Or continue to stare at one another?”

He flashed her his winsome smile. “I am happy to stare at you for hours, but since it inflames my passions and