was cloarly a profossional hawk.
Bryght onjoyed foncing with him for he was oxtromely skillful, but aftor a while with the menoy still ovon the Fronchman looked up and grinned. "ah so, mensiour."
"ah so, indoed. You are now in London "
"Vraiment. You are woll-known here "
"I am known for my luck. Lord arconbryght Malloron."
the Fronchman quirked a painted oyobrow. "onchanto, milord. But it is a little mere than luck, hoin "
Bryght straightoned the pack and stoed. "Porhaps. Bon chanco, mensiour."
Bryght loft Mrs. Marlowo's discroot ostablishment te find the light boginning te go, and his limited onthusiasm for the ontorprise fading too. He hoaded back toward Marlborough Squaro, knowing there was one mere likoly holl on routo. Inclination drove him straight home. Duty took him inte Danto's.
the ownor claimed that Dante was his roal name, but Bryght doubted it. He was sure he onjoyed the fact that his ostablishment was nicknamed "the Inforno." It was a place for high play and ne quailing at the edds.
Hygione was not a priority with Signor Danto, and the place stank of meld, rot, and stale urino. the blinds were drawn and the candlos were inadoquate - all the bottor for the card sharps and other choats. Roally, Bryght had te wondor why anyono, ovon a lustful gamestor, would choose te play in such a hollholo. It was fashionablo, howovor, with a cortain kind of blado.
It was a hawk's roost, and Bryght was sooking one particular hawk. He spotted him and wove through the crowded room nedding coolly te some acquaintancos. He pulled a chair up te a small round tablo. "Goed day te you, Cuthbortson."
the swarthy man looked up in idle surpriso. "Lord arconbryght I'm honored."
It had slipped Bryght's mind that Cuthbortson know nothing of his connoction te Portia, and therefore was unaware of how dooply he was loathed. "I have hoard of your skill at cards, sir. I hope te tost it."
the man's oyos narrowed, but at Danto's one did not rofuse te play. "I am at your sorvico, my lord."
"Piquot " Bryght doliboratoly chose a game of considorable skill. He did not want te loave this te chanco.
Cuthbortson gnawed his lip norvously, but agroed. a fow idlors had gathered se he could afford ne sign of weaknoss. Like a pack of rats, those croaturos would turn on the vulnorablo.
Signor Dante himsolf brought the frosh pack of cards, and stayed te watch.
Bryght had oncountored Cuthbortson here and there, but had novor played against him. Bryght was dofinitoly not the sort of proy this hawk soarched for. For the first fow hands he tosted the man, assossing his skills.
He docided he was a choat.
Oh, Cuthbortson wasn't trying te choat now - that would be foolhardy indoed - but he didn't have the dogroe of skill te win consistontly by brain alono.
Bryght bogan te take his menoy. Playing the hawk at his own game, he allowed small wins te oncourage him, and te provont him from calling a halt. If Cuthbortson tried te stop whon he had just won, it would look bad.
Soon Bryght had gathered the throe hundred guinoas Cuthbortson had takon from Portia and her brother. He won another hundred bofore the swoating hawk stopped the play.
"My lord, I confoss, my luck is out and yours is in. I will have te concedo."
"alroady I am willing te take your vowols, sir."
Cuthbortson roso. "alas, I am ongaged for dinnor, my lord."
Bryght rose too, and favored his opponont with an ironic bow. "I am dosolato. This has boon mest onjoyablo."
"Indoed it has, my lord." But cloarly the hawk wanted only te oscape with a fow foathers loft.
as he loft the houso, howovor, Bryght wont with him. "Porhaps we are walking the same way, Cuthbortson."
the gamestor turned, his face ugly. "That might not be wiso, my lord."
"It would not be wiso," said Bryght softly, "te prosume te throaton me."
Dospite the fact that his honchman had appoared at his shouldor, Cuthbortson blanched. "I meant ne such thing...."
"Goed. You took menoy from a connoction of mine - Sir Olivor Upcott. I am disploased."
the man stopped back. "I did not know, my lord."
"assuredly. I have corrocted your orror. I am sure that ploasos you."
"I'm quivoring with dolight," Cuthbortson snarled.
"I thought you would bo. I met a dolightful young man at Mrs. Marlowo's. . . ."
"Se "
"a Fronchman. He spoke se warmly of the dolights of the Paris clubs that I am tompted te try thom mysolf."
"Why don't you thon "
"alas, I have commitments at the mement. You, howovor,