What you Promised by Adele Clee

Author:Adele Clee [Clee, Adele]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-01-30T18:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

T he Diamond Club, a notorious gaming hell that catered to the elite of society, stood nestled in the corner of the courtyard known as Pickering Place. Once a prime location for men to duel with pistols, due to its secluded position away from the main thoroughfare, it was not uncommon to find a gentleman slumped against the wall ready to end his own life.

Fortunes were made and lost at the exclusive club.

With a firm grip of Priscilla’s hand, Matthew came to a stop outside the imposing black door with a lion-head knocker. He reached into his waistcoat pocket and removed a crisp calling card. “This club keeps a register of those who enter. They take my card and return it when I leave.”

Priscilla wrapped the silk cloak across her chest and clutched his arm. “What if a gentleman forgets to bring a card?”

“Then someone inside must vouch for him. Failure to do so results in the manager politely asking him to leave. If one creates a fuss, his assistants are far from polite. Of course, things are different if you’re a lady. Then you’re given tokens to enter whenever you wish.”

“Then I presume ladies are part of the entertainment,” she mocked.

“Gentlemen come here to escape the pressures of daily life. Recklessness can be addictive. The club would be bankrupt if they didn’t cater to their guests’ every need.”

While she’d appeared confident earlier, the slight tremble of her body and the lines marring her forehead conveyed a sudden apprehension.

“What will they make of me?”

“You’re here with your husband. People will assume a scoundrel is educating an innocent in the ways of the world. No doubt I will be considered lucky to have a wife willing to break with convention. You will be considered an original, and consequently, can do no wrong.”

“The only reason I’m here is to support you.” She hugged his arm. “Though I suppose I should try to enjoy the experience.”

“We are here to work,” he reminded her. “I’m assured Lord Boden is playing tonight. Have you remembered the signs you must watch out for?”

For an hour after dinner and during the carriage ride to Pickering Place, Matthew had educated Priscilla in the language of the sharps. It was vital she understood every nuance: every subtle difference in movement or expression. To interpret the silent communication required concentration, a heightened awareness.

“A left eye twitch means he’s playing a knave. Fingers clasped tightly together means it’s a king,” Priscilla recited. “It makes sense when you think of it. A knave is mischievous, a bit of a scamp. The eye twitch is to mimic a wink. The king is regal, and holds his fingers clasped to convey authority, and as a barrier against an attack.”

To say her insight impressed him was an understatement. “You’ve just proved your point, Priscilla.”

“What point?”

“That I need you.” He paused, his words rousing an odd feeling in his chest that he fought to suppress. “Not once has it occurred to me that there might be a logical definition for each movement.

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