His Lordship's Return: Book Three of His Lordship's Mysteries (His Lordship’s Mysteries 3) by Samantha SoRelle

Author:Samantha SoRelle [SoRelle, Samantha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Balcarres Books LLC
Published: 2022-08-23T04:00:00+00:00

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Without knowing quite how it happened, Alfie found himself swept off to not one, but three gaming hells, gathering friends of Sempill’s at each. It was all far too reminiscent of the way his cousin used to drag him around as little more than a billfold with legs. At least none of Sempill’s friends asked him for money. They didn’t seem inclined to accept his polite excuses either though, so he did his best to ignore the bite of cheap gin as they ordered round after round and the shouts of victory and defeat from the betting men around him. It was all rather like the night he’d been dragged to Spitalfields to see a fight and found Dominick in the ring.

The thought made him smile around his glass of truly awful gin. If Dominick was here now, it would be much more bearable. It might even be fun. Alfie only occasionally indulged in gambling, but from what he could follow, this new game could be quite exciting if played in the right company. While similar to one of the ones Gil had taught him to play at Balcarres, Alfie doubted he’d be able to remember all the rules to this version on his own. Maybe if Dominick was here, they could muddle it out between them. Had Dominick ever come to places like this when he wasn’t fighting? He wouldn’t have had the money to waste, but he might’ve enjoyed the sport of it all.

One of Sempill’s friends pulled a laughing woman into his lap and Alfie’s smile slipped off his face. Dominick might not have come to places like this to fight, but he might have in search of other employment for the evening. He watched the woman lean across Sempill’s friend in a way that displayed her bosom with unmistakable intent.

He looked away before he saw more than he needed to, his eyes falling on a man at the table across from theirs. His back was to them so Alfie couldn’t see his face, but misery was writ in every line of his body.

“Well, Freddie!” Sempill slurred. “Are you going to wager or just sit there?”

As Alfie watched, the man at the other table slumped down, head buried in his hands. He was stripped to his shirtsleeves, the back of his waistcoat catching the eye with bright swirls of blue and green in some lavish pattern that stood out even amidst the riot of movement in the hell. His jacket lay on the table, and one of the grinning players took it and added it to his own pile of winnings.

So much to be lost in a place like this, Alfie thought. A small wager becomes a larger one, but you can’t keep it up indefinitely. And what happens if you can’t afford to lose?

The room swayed as he got to his feet but that didn’t stop him from leaving without a word, ignoring the shouts of Sempill and his friends behind him. He didn’t care what they thought of his leaving so abruptly.

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