That never happened and she was left alone. Until Randolph summoned her and she was naive enough to think it was for the purpose of honoring his father’s promises. She should have known better.
Driscoll entered the dining room with Margie and two of the security guards. Right behind him was Betsy rolling a tea cart. She placed the items on the sideboard, then pushed the cart to the corner of the room and took a seat at the table, grinning at Amelia.
Looking for a little bit of fortification before the game, Amelia walked to the sideboard and looked over at Driscoll. “Would you like tea?”
He nodded and she proceeded to pour and fix his tea precisely as he liked it since she’d seen him do it many times before. She did not offer to any of the others because they were fellow employees, not the employer as Driscoll was.
She smiled to herself. Even in such strange surroundings she still held fast to the manners she was taught by her governess and tutors. If only all she had learned had been put to its proper use.
As much as she longed for the life she had planned, right now she was grateful to have a place to sleep, food to eat, and a job that would pay her money so she could one day make her escape completely from London and far away from Randolph.
She stirred her tea until it cooled as the others filled their teacups and filled plates with the small sandwiches, biscuits and tarts the kitchen had sent up. They all engaged in conversation as they enjoyed the repast. She was fascinated at how involved in the club the employees were. Apparently, the Rose brothers were such good employers that their staff felt as though they were part of the business.
Eventually all the tea things were cleared away by Margie, and Driscoll handed her two decks of cards. “We use two, and sometimes three decks, at the table, depending on how many are playing. It keeps the dealer from having to constantly reshuffle and makes it harder for players to count cards.”
She nodded, took a deep breath, shuffled the two decks and dealt to each participant.
After a few mishaps when each player assured her she was doing fine, she fell into a rhythm. Over an hour passed before she realized it. She had a nice stack of chips—black tin circles they’d played with in place of money—which she’d gathered from those who had lost to her.
Driscoll held up his hand as she prepared to shuffle again. “I think that is enough for tonight.”
Amelia hadn’t realized how tense she’d been throughout the session until Driscoll spoke. All her muscles relaxed, and she drew in a deep breath. She glanced over at him to see his reaction to how she played.
He smiled that crooked smile that she liked so much and pushed his spectacles up on his nose. “You did a fine job tonight. I think only one more practice session and you will be ready to take over Marcus’s table.”
“Is Marcus leaving?” Betsy asked.
“No. He wants to move into a security position. It was fortunate that Miss Pence arrived when she did to replace him. It saved us from having to hire someone that we did not know.”
Of course, no one mentioned that Amelia was someone they didn’t know. Not all knew exactly how she arrived at the club, but it was known that there was a story behind her presence.
So far Amelia had remained separate from the other employees, but she hoped to change that once she began working. She did not like living and eating detached from the others. She did not want any special attention. Special attention could cause envy, which could lead to a disgruntled employee possibly uncovering her secret and selling the information to Randolph.
Slowly, all the employees rose and headed out of the dining room. Amelia checked the clock on the wall and was surprised to see it was already two o’clock in the morning.
Exhaustion hit her like a steam engine. She actually stumbled as she stood. Driscoll caught her around the waist, and she was grateful that all the employees had left. The last thing she needed, to prevent any idea of her having special privileges, was seeing Driscoll’s arm wrapped around her.
“I’m fine,” she said and moved away from him. Driscoll immediately moved his arm.
“I will walk you to your room.”
She shook her head. “No. That’s not necessary.”
“Ah, but it is. You are very tired and probably worn out from working so hard. It’s my gentlemanly duty to see you to your door.”
“Oh, for goodness sake. You make it sound as though my room is miles away and we’re courting.” She immediately felt the blush start in her center and make its way up her face. Especially when Driscoll studied her carefully, as if looking for something.
The corridor was lit by gaslight sconces on the walls. They moved from dark to light several times and Amelia’s heart went from normal to pounding by the time they reached her door. This was foolish. She had nothing to concern herself with.
They reached her door and she turned to thank him when he leaned his forearm against the door frame and towered over her. He ran his finger down her cheek. “May I kiss you goodnight, Miss Pence?”
10
Driscoll decided he must be bloody out of his mind. But it appeared his body had ignored his brain and continued to desire this woman who no one seemed to know anything about.
When Amelia hadn’t answered his request for a kiss, but hadn’t denied it either, or entered her room to shut the door in his face, Driscoll bent slowly, giving her a chance to retreat. When his lips met hers, he came alive at the pleasure of tasting her once again, feeling her warmth, inhaling the scent of
