Visions of Lady Mary by Rachel Ann Smith

Author:Rachel Ann Smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

M ary trailed behind her host. The lady of the house yielded much power, and the comtesse was fully aware of her authority and charms. Nor did she hesitate to use them. Comtesse Boucher swayed her hips, flashed an occasional sensual smile to guests, and issued the most nerve-racking glares when displeased.

The comtesse was definitely not a friend.

How to convince the woman to assist in Mary’s investigations? She needed to know how the Boucher jewels had ended up in Lord Burke’s possession. Without the assistance of Lady Frances, Mary had no choice but to try to outwit the wily woman before her.

As her hostess continued to make her way through the room, Mary caught the attention of more than one handsome young male guest. She lifted her chin. I’m the daughter of a duke. From childhood, she had endured endless lectures and lessons on deportment and etiquette. She knew how to conduct herself with elegance and grace, which would have to compensate for her lack of beauty. She followed in the wake of the comtesse, executing the Seaburn ducal nod to those who had managed to tear their gaze away from their hostess and come upon Mary.

Comtesse Boucher stopped in front of a table with cards neatly arranged in two rows. “Do you know how to play faro?”

“I’m not familiar with the game, but I am a fast learner.”

One corner of the comtesse’s lips rose in a smirk. “Faro is complicated and not for the faint of heart. Do you have the coin to play?”

“Why, of course.” Coin. Mary had plenty. For the past six months, she’d had no reason to spend her generous monthly pin allotment her papa sent. It was safely tucked away in Scotland with her aunt, but Gilbert would spot her the blunt if need be. Wouldn’t he?

“Perhaps we should play a game with less risk.”

“Oh, no.” Mary sat at the table. A footman took the chair across from her.

“Jean will be our banker for tonight.” Comtesse Boucher arranged her skirts and sat in the chair next to Mary and pushed a stack of red-colored coins in front of her.

Counting out the coins, Mary asked, “How much do each of these represent?”

“Five francs.”

Mary’s hand paused. The stack before her represented one hundred francs. That was more than all her savings. Her palms began to sweat.

Comtesse Boucher arranged her own coins into four even stacks. “Jean, let us use hearts this eve.”

The footman fanned out the cards. Selecting those marked with a heart, he arranged them in descending order, starting with the king, to form a singular line in front of them.

“Each round, you place a wager on which card will be the winner. Jean will turn two cards over. The first will determine the losers and the second the winners, and then they will be placed to the side.” There was a devilish sparkle in the comtesse’s eyes. “You may bet as much or little as you wish. Wager on as many cards as you choose, oui?”

The rules seemed simple enough.

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