Marrying Winterborne (The Ravenels #2) - Lisa Kleypas Page 0,63
one ever thinks their own behavior is immoral, only other people’s.” Bringing his snifter of cognac along with him, he went to take a seat at the table.
“We need a fourth,” Pandora said. “Helen, if you would set aside the mending—”
“I’ll join you,” Rhys volunteered, tossing back the last swallow of his cognac and going to take the last chair at the game table. He grinned at West, in the way of fellow sufferers.
Helen was delighted by Rhys’s newfound ease with her family. When he had visited the Ravenels in London, his manner had been controlled and cautious. Now, however, he was relaxed and charming, participating freely in the conversation.
“You’ve just become a drunkard,” Pandora informed Rhys sternly when his playing piece landed on one of the vices. “Off to the whipping post you go, and stay there for the next two turns.”
Helen smiled as Rhys tried to look suitably chastened.
Cassandra spun the little wooden teetotum and triumphantly advanced her piece to a space marked Sincerity.
Next came West’s turn. His piece advanced to a space bearing the ominous label “Sabbath Breaker.”
“It’s three turns in the stocks for you,” Cassandra told him.
“Clapped in the stocks, merely for breaking the Sabbath?” West asked indignantly.
“It’s a severe game,” Cassandra said. “It was invented at the turn of the century, and back then you could be put in the stocks or hanged even for stealing a piece of bacon.”
“How do you know that?” Rhys asked.
“We have a book about it in the library,” Pandora said. “Crimes of Fallen Humanity. It’s all about terrible criminals and horrid gruesome punishments.”
“We’ve read it at least three times,” Cassandra added.
West regarded the twins with a frown before turning toward the settee and asking, “Should they be reading a book like that?”
“No, they should not,” Kathleen said flatly. “I would have removed it, had I known it was there.”
Pandora leaned toward Rhys and said conspiratorially, “She’s too short to see the books above the sixth shelf. That’s where we keep all the naughty ones.”
West coughed in the effort to disguise a laugh, while Rhys stared down at the game board with sudden undue interest.
“Helen knows about it too,” Pandora added.
Cassandra frowned at her. “Now you’ve done it. They’ll take away all the interesting books.”
Pandora shrugged. “We’ve read all of them anyway.”
Rhys deftly changed the subject. “There’s a newer version of this game,” he commented, looking at the board. “An American company bought the rights, and they’ve revised it to make the punishments less harsh. My store carries it.”
“By all means, let’s purchase the less bloodthirsty version,” West said. “Or better yet, let’s teach poker to the twins.”
“West,” Devon warned, his eyes narrowing.
“Poker is positively wholesome compared to a game with more whippings than a novel by de Sade.”
“West,” Devon and Kathleen said at the same time.
“Mr. Winterborne,” Pandora asked, her blue eyes lively with interest, “where do these board games come from? Who invents them?”
“Anyone who designs one could contract a printer to make some copies.”
“What if Cassandra and I make one?” she asked. “Could we sell it at your store?”
“I don’t want to make a game,” Cassandra protested. “I only want to play them.”
Pandora ignored her, focusing intently on Rhys.
“Come up with a prototype,” he told her, “and I’ll take a look at it. If I think I can sell it, I’ll be your backer and pay for the first printing. In return for a percentage of your profits, of course.”
“What is the usual percentage?” Pandora asked. “Whatever it is, I’ll give you half.”
Raising one brow, Rhys asked, “Why only half?”
“Don’t I deserve an in-law discount?” Pandora asked ingenuously.
Rhys laughed, looking so boyish that Helen felt her heart quicken. “Aye, you do.”
“How will I know what games have already been done?” Pandora was becoming more enthusiastic by the minute. “I want mine to be different from everyone else’s.”
“I’ll send you one of every board game we sell, so you can examine all of them.”
“Thank you, that would be most helpful. In the meantime . . .” Pandora’s fingers drummed the table in a pale blur. “I can’t play any more tonight,” she announced, standing up quickly, obliging West and Rhys to rise to their feet as well. “There’s work to be done. Come with me, Cassandra.”
“But I was winning,” Cassandra grumbled, looking down at the game board. “Isn’t it too late at night to begin something like this?”
“Not when one has a dire case of imagine-somnia.” Pandora tugged her sister