A Little Bit Scandalous Page 0,5

he get an audience with Cabot. Playing “the boy” gave him the perfect reason to be there. No one would be surprised since his arrogance about the game was widely known.

Justin exhaled loudly. “You are not going to cease badgering me about this until I agree, are you?”

“I believe that is one of my finer gifts, my ability to badger people.”

“You realize entering the back room is going to cause a stir all over Rodale’s.”

Roe stretched his arms. “Since when do I give a damn about causing a stir? One could say that is a favorite pastime of mine.”

“This will not start a trend, where you damned aristocrats go to the back room to win monies from the poor working men,” Justin said.

He chuckled. “I doubt the rest of the blue bloods are eager to mingle with their servants and the like in such a setting. But I’ll be as discreet as possible.”

“See that you do.”

…

Caroline checked her cards again, then mentally ran through the ones that would remain in the deck. It was a risk to take another card, but she felt certain her calculations were correct and would result in a win. She eyed the dealer, then inclined her head, indicating she wanted another card. The man’s eyebrows rose, but he dealt her a card nonetheless. A three, precisely the card she needed to bring her total to twenty. She would win this hand. The rest of the table turned their hands over. The dealer chuckled. “You’ve won again, boy,” he said.

She gave a tight smile and accepted the money shoved in her direction. It was a good night, though it seemed the other players were beginning to get annoyed with her. She’d introduced herself with a fake name the first night she’d come, but no one seemed to remember it or her for the first several visits. Then they noticed she was winning, and winning regularly. They simply called her “the boy,” which was fine by her. Maybe if they all heard that enough, they’d believe it and no one would question or even consider she was anything but.

“That’s seven hands in a row, boy,” the man next to her said. He was a tall man with broad hands and long fingers. She thought she remembered people calling him Cabot. He’d been coming to play the last week or so. “Pretty good luck.”

“Perhaps it is more skill than luck,” Caroline said, using the lower voice she had perfected over the last month. She’d heard once that people saw what they wanted to see, or in this case, heard what they wanted to hear. She dressed as a boy, spoke as a boy, and thankfully, no one had suspected otherwise.

The man laughed, a jovial and authentic laugh. “And cocky, too.” Cabot popped Caroline on the back so firmly the motion jarred her teeth. “I like that. Name’s Cabot.”

It wasn’t arrogance, but she wouldn’t correct him. “Grey,” she told him. If all the men here thought her winning streak was luck, then they hadn’t noticed her counting. The prideful part of her wanted them to know, wanted them to be impressed with her skill, but pride had no place in this. She was here to earn funds so she could finally be in charge of her own life, finally be beholden to no one.

Another man joined their table, one she recognized from her other visits to Rodale’s. He was a butler for the Earl of Bromley and he was an incorrigible gossip. She suspected he talked as much as he did to simultaneously entertain himself and distract the other players. Caroline was pleased he’d joined their table instead of one of the other three in the room.

Cabot gestured toward the butler. “Finley, you’re not usually off work on Wednesdays. Did you get sacked?”

Finley smiled and picked up his cards. “I did no such thing. Lord Bromley and his wife have gone to the countryside for the week. His sisters are too occupied vying for the affections of Viscount Hopkins this evening, so I decided to come and see how the likes of you are doing.” His eyes moved around the table as he checked his opponents. “Appears I chose a good night to come.”

“The boy’s showing us up,” Cabot said.

All eyes turned back to her. Caroline shrugged. “I enjoy the game.”

They returned to their hands. After the second round, Finley nodded toward Cabot. “How’s your injury healing?”

Cabot lifted his cane and tapped it against his leg. “The break is