A Little Bit Scandalous Page 0,8

counting again.

Roe had taught her to play when she was fifteen and she’d come to live at his estate. He’d sat her down in his study one day and dealt the cards. She’d been a quick study for the game. He had never once mentioned the art of counting the cards so she could predict the odds of each hand. She’d struck on that notion on her own, though she’d never told him. But it was a skill that came quite easily to her and it enabled her to win. And to win a lot.

The cards were dealt, and she watched each player as they checked their hands and made their requests. She looked at her own hand. Twenty-one. A perfect hand.

There was a ghost of a smile on Roe’s lips when Caroline turned over her cards. Then the next hand was dealt.

“What the devil do you want with Constantine’s Shield?” Cabot asked abruptly.

Roe looked up over his cards and eyed Cabot, but said nothing.

Cabot shrugged. “Merely curious.”

Fascinating how suddenly Finley was the one who had grown stone quiet and Cabot was so talkative. His words surprised her, though. She would have thought Roe had given up his search for that artifact, since it had been so many years since he and Christopher had gone to Persia and looked for it. It had been the last time she’d seen her brother, though she’d received many letters from him while they’d been on their trip. He’d loved every moment of their journey, and she’d felt such warmth for the man who’d allowed her brother such a grand adventure.

“It’s an odd thing to be searching for, is all,” Cabot said. “Especially since there is no proof it actually exists.”

Roe once again eyed Cabot, bumping his chin out. “I happen to believe it is real, and I’ve looked for a long time. I’d like to see it found and put in a museum so others can enjoy it.”

“You’ve looked for it? It seems to me all you’ve done is hire one worthless crew after another,” Cabot said.

Roe flipped his cards over; he’d beaten the dealer by one.

She waited for him to argue with Cabot, to tell him about the fated trip he’d taken with Christopher when they’d both fallen ill. But Roe said nothing.

…

Three hands into the game and Roe knew everything he’d heard about this boy had been true. He was a very good player. Exceptional, really. It made Roe wish, for a moment, that the boy was truly why he’d breached that doorway and stepped into this room. But it had all been about Cabot. He’d suspected that, given the opportunity, Cabot would make inquiries. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. In all the years Roe had searched for that bloody antiquity, he’d learned one thing: archaeologists were as varied as any other men, but when it came to curiosity, they were all alike.

Cabot didn’t disappoint with his own inquisitive nature. It hadn’t taken the man ten minutes before he’d had to ask Roe about the quest, which meant that while he said he wouldn’t work for Roe, there was still a chance he’d change his mind.

The man had tossed out a challenge, one that Roe could meet. He could tell Cabot all about the excursion he and Christopher had taken. The truth was it would prove nothing, and Roe never talked about it. To anyone. So he allowed the bait to fall flat.

“I think that about does me for the night,” Cabot said. He grabbed his cane and pulled himself to his feet. “Good luck with that quest of yours,” he said to Roe.

“Indeed. Do let me know if you change your mind about working for me,” Roe said, but he never once allowed himself to look up at the man. He’d be damned if Cabot could see his desperation. For the evening, Roe would have to be satisfied that he’d actually met the man and had a conversation, as brief as it was.

The game continued. He couldn’t very well get up and leave now that Cabot was gone. Roe had claimed to want to play the boy and play him he would. The opponents at the table were decent; he couldn’t complain. And they were quieter than the blokes he played out in the big room. Curious, that. Almost as if these players took things a bit more seriously. Of course, they were playing with money they’d earned, rather than what they’d taken out of familial coffers.

He eyed