Meanwhile, Thornstock and some gray-haired fellow with his back to her were apparently losing and none too happy about it. Indeed, Mr. Juncker and Sheridan were taking turns tormenting them, punctuated by the occasional jibe from Uncle Noah.
But Uncle Noah mostly seemed too busy flirting with the dowager duchess to bother with the other fellows. How very interesting.
And who was Thornstock’s partner? She had no idea until the man made some sullen remark to Uncle Noah. As she recognized the voice, she let out a silent oath. Lord Lisbourne. Oh, dear. She hadn’t realized the marquess was even here! He must have been in the card room the entire time. Thank goodness Mama had chosen not to attend the party, too, or she would already have tried to throw Vanessa and Lord Lisbourne together.
Now Vanessa was in a quandary. Go join her uncle despite the presence of the marquess? Or sneak away and find Lady Thornstock to ask Uncle Noah how much longer his game would go?
“Miss Pryde!” Lord Lisbourne called out.
Too late. The dratted fellow had spotted her.
Pasting a false smile to her lips, Vanessa entered the card room. “So this is where all my dance partners have disappeared to.”
“Oh?” Lord Lisbourne said, a frown beetling his pale brow. “Is the dancing over already?”
“Already!” She laughed. “It’s nearly two A.M., sir.”
He shrugged. “That is nothing to the usual fashionable balls.”
And he should know, since he went to plenty of them. Despite his age, the marquess was considered by all the mothers—and even some of the young ladies—as quite a catch. He was attractive enough, Vanessa supposed, with his trim figure and his ready smile. But he had a penchant for dressing oddly, like tonight in his lavish coat and waistcoat of bright green velvet worn with brown silk breeches. His attire seemed hopelessly old-fashioned next to the more subdued colors, wool coats, and trousers of Thornstock, Sheridan, and even her uncle.
And now Thornstock was frowning at him. “This wasn’t a ball, Lisbourne, but a very informal entertainment after the play. Besides, the hour is growing late.”
“Nonsense. The night is still young.” Lord Lisbourne patted the chair next to him. “Do come and sit by me, Miss Pryde, to observe the game. We’re playing quadrille, and I’m in dire need of the kind of good luck only a damsel as pretty as you can provide.”
She wouldn’t take that chair for all the world. Lord Lisbourne had a tendency to lean too close to a lady, especially if he thought he could get a glimpse down the front of her gown. “Forgive me, sir, but duty dictates that I give my store of luck, meager as it is, to my uncle.”
“You had better do so, Niece,” Uncle Noah said. “Because if I lose, I’ll be forced to keep you here another two hours to win my money back.” He darted a glance at her. “And I can see from the droop of your shoulders that you’re ready to leave.”
“Not a bit,” she lied, loath to ruin her uncle’s fun. Not since before the long illness of her aunt had she seen him this cheerful. “But I will expect a percentage of your winnings in exchange.”
Uncle Noah gave a hearty laugh. “I can provide that quite soon. Juncker and I are trouncing Lisbourne and Thornstock. Let us win this hand and perhaps the next, and I will meet your price.” He gazed up at Sheridan’s mother. “Besides, I daresay the duchess is as weary as you but simply better at hiding it. And since she is the one regulating our various quadrille payments, we cannot do without her.”
“Do not underestimate my stamina, sir,” the duchess said in a lilting voice. “It’s not yet that time of the morning when the guests are having too much fun to leave but know they should do so before they keel over from exhaustion.”
“No one is keeling over on my watch, Mother,” Sheridan said, his eyes twinkling. “Come, Miss Pryde. Stand by me so you can see Juncker’s cards and signal your uncle about what our friend has in his hand.”
Thornstock scowled at Sheridan. “That is not amusing.”
“Don’t worry, Thornstock.” Vanessa approached Sheridan. “Contrary to what your brother seems to think, I am not a cheat.”
“And you couldn’t cheat anyway,” Uncle Noah said, “since you don’t know how to play quadrille.”
“Uncle! Must you reveal all my secrets?”
“Don’t get yourself in a huff,” he said. “I only recently learned the game myself.”
“I don’t know how to play it either,” Sheridan murmured to her as she reached him. “It seems unnecessarily complicated for a mere card game.”
“Exactly,” Vanessa murmured back. “I simply have no desire to work that hard for something that purports to be entertainment.” Neither of her parents—and none of her friends—had liked it, so she’d never learned.
“Shh!” Thornstock hissed. “I can’t think with the two of you whispering like children.”
Sheridan touched her elbow. “Come, Miss Pryde. Let’s go fetch you a glass of champagne from the adjoining room and leave my boorish brother to his losing streak.”
“We may yet win!” Thornstock cried after them as they escaped into the other room, laughing.
They walked over to the table where a yawning footman stood at the ready to offer them champagne.
“My brother is a sore loser, I’m afraid.” Sheridan gestured to the footman to pour a glass for her. “Always has been. Which is why I rarely play any sort of game with him. He doesn’t understand the point of simply enjoying the game.”
“And what games do you enjoy?”
He shrugged. “Chess. Croquet.” His eyes gleamed at her. “Any kind of horse race.”
“I do love a good horse race myself. We must go riding sometime.”
Turning pensive, he nodded. “Sometime, yes.”
After the
