A Priceless Gift: A Regency Romance by May Burnett

Author:May Burnett [Burnett, May]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Historical, Regency, Historical Romance
Amazon: B0116X4AVY
Publisher: Mind Games Publications
Published: 2015-08-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

As Lucian had expected, the talk at Mercier’s was mostly of the impending war. He overheard some remarks that almost made him pity the minister of war. He would not want to command soldiers who despised and resented him like that. Fortunately, being a civilian he would never find himself in that position. There was some indication that the czar might return soon, which gave him hope of progress at last.

Many of these proud, expensive young men would die when the French attack came, and they knew it even if none spoke of it openly. The way they drank and gambled and boasted of their whoring sounded forced, almost desperate in some cases, as though they were trying to cram as much living as they could into those last months. Major Kendorov was one of the exceptions, always calm and collected, which might explain why he was winning yet again.

Lucian and the major were playing vingt-et-un with four other officers, Kendorov holding the bank. The stakes were high enough to force Lucian to concentrate. He drank only sparingly from the excellent French vintage they had ordered, determined to keep his head clear.

One of the other players was quaffing the wine recklessly as he lost round after round. Lucian was wondering how to hint that it might be wiser to cut his losses and go sleep off his bout of ill luck. But such unsolicited advice could easily lead to a duel with such a young hothead. If the fool was determined to lose his entire patrimony to Kendorov, it was none of Lucian’s business.

Finally, Kendorov indicated, as tactfully as possible, that he had accepted enough IOUs from young Pjotr Ivanovich. Ivanovich only blinked owlishly and, fortunately, did not take offense.

“What are you willing to bet against those?” He drew a set of ruby earrings from his pocket. The stones were cut like small dangling pineapples and shone in the candlelight with inner fire. Though only a jeweller would be able to gauge their true worth, Lucian could see at a glance that they were of superior quality.

“Five hundred,” Kendorov said. “They are pretty, but do you really want to lose them on top of everything else? With a streak like that, it is wise to stop until the luck turns.”

“It is about to turn; I can feel it,” Pjotr Ivanovich insisted, placing the earrings in the middle of the table. “These will bring me luck. Deal, Kendorov; I want to gain some of my money back.”

With a look at the others, to see if they agreed to the proposal, Kendorov dealt. As was to have been expected, he won yet again. Ivanovich stared at his cards incredulously when Kendorov picked up the wagered jewels. “I could have sworn . . .”

“It clearly is not your lucky night,” Lucian said. “Fortuna’s ways are unaccountable; she does not allow us to guess her intentions.”

Ivanovich grasped at a bottle of vodka and drank directly from it, two, three deep droughts as they all watched him uneasily.

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