“I hope you’re not expecting to get lucky.”
He coughed and almost choked on his drink. “I’m sorry?”
“Just because my husband thinks I can be bought and sold in a game, doesn’t mean I’m about to spread my legs for you.”
He shrugged and smiled wryly. I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction I was expecting from him, but I was preparing myself for the worst. If I was judging my husband for putting a woman up in a card game, I had to judge the guy who wanted to win one too.
“I wouldn’t presume that you were going to spread anything for me,” he said. “Not even jam on my scone.”
I giggled silently. That didn’t mean I trusted him. All that meant was he cracked a funny joke and I didn’t feel that uncomfortable anymore. I was still uncomfortable. The situation was still one hundred percent absurd, but I wasn’t scared. I was angry, I was confused, I was a little cranky after wearing heels all night, but I wasn’t scared anymore. I sucked down some more of my scotch then looked at the man on the sofa.
“What kind of man wagers his wife in a card game?” I asked out loud.
“Either one who knows he isn’t going to lose her, or…”
“Or what?” I asked. I felt like I knew what he was going to say but he was just pausing because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings. Newsflash. My husband has just turned me over to another man in a bet. There was nothing that could hurt my feelings more than that.
“I don’t want to make assumptions about the kind of man that he is, but people who put up their wives, kids, homes up for collateral when they gamble aren’t doing it for fun anymore.”
“Great. So, my husband is a gambling addict?”
“You said it, not me.”
I laughed at his little quip and walked over to the sofa. “You’re probably right. I mean what kind of crazy man does something like that? And then he lost! He didn’t care whether I ended up with some stranger.”
“If I was him, I would keep much better tabs on you.”
I took a swig of my drink, clearing it. “I mean, what kind of man does something like that? Would you do something like that?” I could hear my speech slurring a little. The scotch was working.
“I know that the correct answer to that question is no, never.” He looked at me with wide, innocent eyes like he wasn’t in the casino himself. It made me laugh. I got up to pour myself another drink. I was buzzed. I didn’t feel wobbly on my feet yet, but I was definitely no longer sober. It felt good to talk about my husband. Maybe talking to someone else besides the guy who had won me in a bet would’ve been preferable, but so far, he was a good listener. He wasn’t that bad to look at either.
That was the booze talking but I liked what I was hearing. I was in a stranger’s suite after my husband lost me in a bet. We were past the point of things making sense anymore.
“I didn't even want to marry him,” I blurted out.
“Oh really?” he asked. I shrugged. I had never really said it out loud before but yeah, it was true.
“I didn't pick him. We never really dated or anything. We were matched. My family picked him. He was the honorable choice. He’s from a good family, whatever the hell that means. He’s a Baron and that got them. An eligible bachelor, hadn't been married before and was looking for a wife himself. Can you believe that? I'm married to this guy because he was ready to be married and he matches all my family requirements.”
“I can believe that,” he said. I raised an eyebrow.
“How so?”
“We're in the same boat, love. Well, sort of. My family has been breathing down my neck about finding the right girl to marry since before I could walk.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s an aristocratic twat,” he said, rolling his eyes. “They care about things like that.”
“Obviously we’re not in the same boat since you're not married. Unless?”
He smiled, taking a drink of his scotch. “No, I'm not married. I wouldn't be putting wagers on other people's wives if I was married.”
The joke was kind of dark, but I laughed.
“I bet your family would recoil in horror if they knew I was here now.”
“They would, but I don't really care what they think. I'm the only person who has to be pleased with my life choices. If I followed what they wanted for me, I'd just end up like them. Repressed, held down by centuries of traditions that don't make sense anymore.”
I went up and sat down next to him. “That's admirable in a weird way.”
“Not many people call it admirable. Usually, I get selfish, foolish, disrespectful.”
“Well, yeah it's all those things too, but it can be admirable at the same time.”
He laughed. “The way I see it, they're asking me to live by rules that were written before I showed up, which I never had a chance to agree to. I didn't ask for them to be my parents. I didn't ask to be born into this family, and just because I was, doesn't mean that I can't be who I am. I'm not responsible for their legacy. The only person I'm responsible for is me.”
“That's an interesting philosophy.”
He shrugged. “That's just how I try to do things. I figure that as long as I'm not hurting anybody, then I should be allowed to do it.”
“It must have been hard standing up to your family like that,” I said, partly thinking out loud. We had similar backgrounds.
