She was mortified to feel tears gathering in her eyes.
Driscoll took her hand in his. “What is wrong, Amelia? Are you still nervous?”
His concern only made her feel worse. Before she knew it, tears streamed down her face and she turned from Driscoll trying her best to gain control.
“Amelia?” His soft voice broke through her sadness.
She turned back, swallowing several times, and placed a bright smile on her face. “I’m fine. Probably just nerves.” Hopefully her shaky voice would convince him.
Driscoll studied her, the doubt in her remarks apparent on his face. But he did not push her, nor offer any additional kind words which would have sent her back to crying again. Instead, he withdrew a white handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.
She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, crumpling the handkerchief into a ball so she could wash it later. Raising her chin, she said, “I am ready.”
He opened his mouth as if to say something, but instead nodded and waved her toward the door.
They walked side-by-side down the corridor to the stairs leading to the gaming floor.
The room was bustling. A man in the corner was setting up liquor bottles on a long table in front of him. He stacked clean glasses alongside the bottles. Other employees were cleaning, dusting and preparing the gaming tables. Driscoll took the time to introduce her to the employees she did not yet know.
“I think it might relax you a bit to play a couple of hands before we open the doors.”
She nodded and a thought slammed into her that almost had her panicking. “My mask!”
“Ah, yes. I forgot. Wait here for me and I will fetch it from the office.”
Amelia picked up the two decks of cards with shaky hands. She started to shuffle them when a man’s voice called out, “Stop.”
She froze and looked over at the man who had just been introduced to her as Mr. Maxwell Granger, who ran the hazard table. He moved from around the table and approached her.
“What?”
“It’s best if you shuffle the cards in front of the players. They like to see that nothing untoward is going on.”
“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“No need to apologize, young lady. I know this is all new to you.” He leaned in and winked at her. “Remember, we were all new at one time.”
She smiled back, the corner of her eye-catching Driscoll heading toward her, frowning at Mr. Granger.
“Best get that table set up, Granger.” Driscoll’s voice was anything but warm and friendly. Did he not like the man?
Mr. Granger merely offered Driscoll a smirk which Amelia did not understand at all. But she was distracted by the mask in Driscoll’s hand. It was a beautiful black satin mask, the edges lined with black feathers. Small shiny stones were scattered throughout the piece.
Amelia let out a sigh of relief. The mask would cover almost half her face. All that would be visible was her mouth and chin. Since almost no one in London knew her, the only person she was concerned about recognizing her was Mr. Lyons, since she knew he was still a member in good standing at the club.
Even he, however, had not seen her in a clear light, so all he would remember of her was her hair color and height.
She slipped the mask on and turned to Driscoll. “Do I look mysterious enough?”
He grinned and her heart took a leap. “Yes, my dear. Very mysterious.” He leaned in closer. “And lovely. It will be no burden to stand near your table tonight.”
Thankfully the mask hid most of the blush that rose to her face.
“Mr. Granger told me not to shuffle the cards until the players are seated.”
“Yes. He is correct. I should have told you that. It makes the players feel like everything is above board if they can see that. Which, by the way, is the rule here. We don’t cheat in any way, and we do not permit players to cheat either. If someone is caught cheating, he is banned from the club.”
Amelia nodded, still mesmerized at how Driscoll looked in his formal clothes. Would he try to kiss her again tonight? A fluttering started in her stomach when she thought about it.
Now with him standing so close and the fragrance of his bath soap drifting toward her, she had the urge to throw herself into his arms and inhale his scent, feel his strong arms around her, taste his lips again.
Driscoll waved over two other staff members whose duties were done. Mr. Donald Johnson and Mr. Arthur Richards had been introduced to her earlier and both men seemed to be friendly enough. Mr. Johnson was in security and Mr. Richards was a ‘runner’. He kept the guests happy by seeing that they had drinks and food if they desired and took care of submitting IOUs to the banker.
Mr. John Melrose ran the bank. He accepted the winnings from the tables, recounted the money turned in by each dealer, recorded it against each employee, then placed it into a safe after giving Driscoll the tally for the evening.
From what Amelia saw, The Rose Room was a very well-run, honest establishment. The brothers had done quite well for themselves.
The three men sat in front of her, and with a nod from Driscoll, she shuffled the cards and began to deal.
Despite her nervousness, she did quite well and did not fumble at all during the half hour they played. When the last hand finished, Driscoll leaned back in his chair and regarded her. “You are going to be quite a hit, Miss Pence.”
Mr. Richards grinned. “I agree. Beautiful, smart, and competent.” He looked at Driscoll. “You brothers have all the luck.”
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