very point had been bugging Driscoll for days. “I am aware of that. However, it’s quite possible the novelty of having a woman dealer has worn off and things have settled down.”

“Good try.” Dante grinned, despite his obvious annoyance. “I realize you haven’t been watching her table as closely since you’ve had words with the few men who had been harassing her, but from what I’ve seen her table has been just as popular this past week and a half as it had been her first ten days. The only difference is now she is counting her money and turning it in herself instead of you helping her with it.”

When Driscoll didn’t comment, Dante continued, his voice lowered. “We have to once again consider that Amelia arrived here with nothing more than the clothes on her back, with no apparent home or relatives searching for her.”

Driscoll cleaned his spectacles and put them back on. “I know all of that. But I sincerely believe she is not stealing from us. She has been nothing but pleasant, hard-working, and grateful for the help we’ve provided her.”

Dante jumped up from his seat. “She could also be a former member of a well-trained cast on Drury Lane and a fine actress.”

“Are you suggesting everything we’ve seen of Amelia in the past month has been a lie?” The amount of anger he felt at Dante’s criticism startled him.

Running his fingers through his hair, Dante paced the room. “I don’t know. I have to agree that aside from this missing money, she has not shown any indication of nefarious intentions.”

Driscoll reflected on the problem as his brother continued to pace. If only he could convince Amelia to trust him with her secrets. Holding back as she was only made the drop in her receipts suspect.

He’d gotten very close to her in the past few weeks and was rather enjoying the feeling. They’d spent time together at the end of each shift, and they’d taken a few trips to Bond Street for shopping. He loved the enjoyment on her face when she remarked about how proud she was to be purchasing things with money she’d earned herself.

Also, in the past two weeks their kisses had become more daring each time they were alone together. They could not seem to keep their hands off each other. He spent almost as much time thinking about Amelia as he did working on his books, which had consumed his life for years.

He knew in his heart that had she arrived in his life during a normal course of events, he would probably have proposed marriage to her by now. She was sweet, caring, smart, beautiful, and kind. She would be a wonderful wife and excellent mother. Even the rest of the staff loved her, despite the additional benefits she received.

His feelings for her went deep, but always the niggle of doubt at the secrets she guarded so closely kept him on edge. Now the missing money only gave his already skeptical brother more reason to second guess their employee’s background and intentions.

“I will speak with her. I think the questions will go easier on her if I am the inquisitor.” Driscoll winced at the term. But sitting down with her, boss to employee, to inquire about things that would embarrass them both did indeed make him feel like an interrogator.

Dante headed to the door, obviously relieved to be done with his part in it. “Let me know what you uncover.” He stepped out and came right back in. “I understand your reluctance to believe anything untoward about Amelia, but keep in mind we are running a business.”

Driscoll nodded. “I understand.”

He closed the books he’d been working on and headed down to the gaming floor. As usual, the room was packed; shouts of both distress and excitement rose above the crowd. He headed to Amelia’s table which was full, and again a few men deep stood behind the players, awaiting seats.

A sense of pride rushed through him. She had come a long way from her first night. She dealt the cards efficiently and was able to count and keep track of each player’s hands while bantering with the gamers.

Once Driscoll had made it known to the patrons that Amelia was there for the purpose of dealing cards and nothing else, and any lewd comments to her would result in the member being banned for a month, things had become much more pleasant at the vingt-et-un table.

And for Driscoll.

He had hated listening to the things said to her and came close to using his fists more than once. Leave off and say no more, she is mine, he screamed to himself more than once. The only quasi-negative thing that continued was the numerous requests from the players for her to remove her mask.

Amelia went from ignoring the appeals to flat out refusing with a curt answer. Unfortunately, it left the men placing bets on who the lovely new dealer at The Rose Room was. As far as he knew there were even bets recorded at White’s and Brooks’s gentlemen’s clubs wagering books.

Driscoll took up his place along the wall so he could view Amelia’s table clearly. All looked well, but it wasn’t the playing that disturbed him, it was the money she counted and turned in each night.

Without mentioning why he wanted to know, he’d questioned John, the banker who received the money after the club closed. To make it unknown to him who he was concerned about, he asked John to re-check all the receipts.

For three nights now John had assured him the amount of money each staff member turned in matched the numbers written, in their hand, on the paper that came with the muslin bag of money. Since John had been with them since they opened, he had no reason not to trust him.

On the other hand, he refused to believe his assessment of Amelia’s character was so far off that she would steal from those who had aided her

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