A Stranger's Gamble (Lords of Chance Book 3)

by Tarah Scott

  “Adam,” she said in a husky voice Sophie was certain would drive men wild.

  He grasped Sophie’s hand and pulled her forward. She stumbled. Adam shot his arm around her waist and yanked her to his side. She snapped her head up. His gaze remained straight ahead, his mouth a thin line as he continued toward the stairs. Upon reaching them, he urged her ahead of him. Sophie took two steps, looked back at him, and caught sight of the woman, who shifted her gaze from Adam to Sophie. Adam stepped up onto the stair beneath Sophie and blocked her view. She looked down at him, but in the dim light she discerned only shadows. Another couple halted at the bottom of the stairs. Adam gently urged Sophie to continue upward.

  They reached the upper level, and Adam pushed open the door and allowed her to precede him. Sophie stepped out into the cool night. The clear sky allowed the moon to shine brightly. A chill wind whipped the tendrils of her hair that had come free of its pins. Carriages waiting for their owners formed a line three blocks long. Patrons of the oyster cellar exited and headed toward their carriages. Adam placed Sophie’s hand in the crook of his arm, and she allowed him to steer her around a small group, then began walking toward home.

  Sophie looked out of the side of her eye at him. He still had his mouth pressed into a thin line. Curiosity burned hot. Who was the woman to have so quickly changed his mood from carefree to…what? Dark? Dared she ask him about the woman? Did she really want the answer? It was clear the woman meant something to him—or once did, at any rate—and things hadn’t ended well. Sophie recalled the look on the woman’s face when she’d stared at Adam. She had seemed…curious.

  “Sophie? Sophie? Is that you?”

  Sophie jarred at hearing a woman call her name.

  “Sophie?”

  Sophie tensed. She would know that high pitched nasally voice anywhere. Jane Goodman, an Englishwoman with a voracious taste for gossip. Sophie ducked her head and quickened her pace.

  “What is amiss?” Adam demanded.

  “Amiss?” Sophie winced inwardly. She would have thought him too much in his dark mood to notice her.

  They turned the corner as she racked her brain for a response. Sophie slowed at sight of three women standing on the street corner.

  “I don’t recall a river here this morning,” one said on a gasp as she pointed to the shadow cast by the church steeple across the street.

  The women tottered back a step, giggling behind their hands.

  “Can we wade across it?” one asked.

  Sophie couldn’t repress a laugh.

  “You can wade across,” Adam called out. “It’s not too deep.”

  “You are certain?” the first woman asked.

  “I am,” he replied with deep gravity.

  The women sat on the sidewalk, and Sophie and Adam stared as they took off their shoes and stockings. They scrambled back to their feet, hiked up their skirts, and began to pick their way across the street.

  “The respectable dames clearly had a little too much to drink,” Adam murmured.

  “I hope they don’t forget to put their shoes back on,” Sophie said as the women continued down the sidewalk on the other side.

  Adam remained silent, and Sophie found she could think of nothing else to say. She’d been convinced Adam had enjoyed her company during the party, but it was now clear she had been nothing but a distraction. Isn’t that what he was? It wasn’t as if she intended to see him again once she returned home. But that was different than using someone to forget a past love. Wasn’t it?

  “Perhaps I should take a hackney the rest of the way,” Sophie said.

  He looked down at her and frowned. Then his expression cleared. “I am ignoring you. Forgive me.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. We have had a lovely time, and you must be tired.”

  “Not at all,” he replied. “Besides, it isn’t safe for a lady alone, even in a hackney.”

  She laughed. “Lady? I’m no lady. I’m a lady’s companion.”

  “Being a lady has a great deal more to do with a woman’s morals and virtue than it does money, lass. You are a lady. I will escort you home. If you tire of my company, I will remain quiet.”

  She groaned. “Please, no. That is exactly what I wish to avoid. I suppose I shouldn’t complain. I had a grand time tonight.” She simply hadn’t expected the night to end on such a low note.

  They turned down Lacy Street, and Sophie halted under the meager light of the streetlamp. “Oh dear,” she said.

  Adam stopped and turned toward her. “What is wrong?”

  “The river runs deep here, does it not?” She waved a hand in the direction of the street as a carriage slowly passed.

  Adam frowned. “What?”

  Sophie looked up at him. “I suppose I could take off my shoes like the other ladies did.”

  For a moment, Adam stared at her, then he arched his brows. “Shall I carry you across?”

  Her pulsed leaped. She hadn’t expected that response. Before she could reply, he swept her into his arms. Sophie gasped and threw her arms around his neck. Adam stepped from the sidewalk onto the street, then dodged a passing hackney. Sophie buried her head in his neck when he stumbled and seemed he would fall. The musky scent of masculine soap assailed her, and she had the strange desire to press her lips against the saltiness of his skin. What would he do if she kissed him?

  “Fear not, my lady,” he said. “I shall fight the monstrous current and set you safely down on the other side.”

  Sophie turned her head slightly with the intention of sneaking a peek at him, but he halted as he reached the far sidewalk and looked down at her. He stared, his features in shadow, and she tensed with anticipation when he lowered his head toward hers, but then he released her legs, and Sophie found herself standing on her own two feet. When Adam stepped away, she could have sworn a chill air whipped past.

  “Are you well?” he asked.

  She jumped at the sound of his voice. “Yes, very well, thank you.”

  Sophie faced home and began walking. Adam fell into step alongside her. The townhouse came into view up ahead, dark and silent. They continued past the front gate, around the street to the alley behind the house. This time, he escorted her through the back garden and all the way to the kitchen door.

  Sophie fished the key from her reticule. She unlocked the door, then dropped the key back into her reticule and faced Adam. “Thank you for escorting me.”

  To her relief, he smiled. “It was my pleasure.” He executed a small bow that reminded her too much of the gentlemen her father threw into her path. “Good evening, Miss Beatrice Frasier. I shall look forward to our next meeting.” He backed up a step.

  “When will that be?”

  He halted, and her cheeks warmed. Had she been too forward?

  “We shall see, I suppose,” he replied.

  “I have always wanted to see the wharfs.”

  “Beatrice…” His voice held warning.

  “I know. It is not safe for a woman alone. I will be ready at seven tomorrow evening.”

  Before he could reply, she slipped inside and closed the door. She waited a long moment, heart pounding in anticipation of his knock on the door, but none came.

  Sophie released a slow breath and headed up the servants’ stairs to her room.

  Chapter Nine

  Fury rammed through Adam. He hadn’t seen Lena since the night after his father shot himself. The anger that had surfaced when he’d seen her tonight had caught him off guard. He’d been angrier seeing her at the oyster cellars than he had the night she told him his father had lost his fortune in her gambling hall. He needed to get as far away from Lady Lena Fleming as possible. He would never be able to forget her betrayal, but he would be able to busy himself, so he didn’t think of her as often as he did.

  Adam stepped from the alley out onto the walkway. He strode to the corner, stepped aside for a man and woman, then hurried across the street. It had been a mistake to take Beatrice to the oyster c
ellar. He blew out a frustrated breath. She would have gone with or without him. He wouldn’t see her again. Oddly, the thought bothered him. Perhaps—

  He cut off the thought. He was a fool. Even a lady’s companion deserved more than he had to give. She would be hurt. He could see that in her eyes—but she would be far more hurt if she learned of his ruse.

  He silently cursed. If he married Miss Shaw, Beatrice would learn of his true identity. Adam turned left at the intersection and leapt up on the curb just in time to miss the carriage that turned the corner. One more reason not to marry Miss Shaw.

  The tension in his shoulders eased slightly. Other than running into Lena, he had enjoyed himself. Beatrice was a delightful companion. She was more than that, if he was honest. She was a breath of fresh air. The fact she was beautiful didn’t hurt.

  Mrs. Latimer’s boarding house came into view up ahead. A man stood in front of the gate. Adam slowed. Was that Nicholas? By thunder it was. There could be only one reason the earl would need to speak with him at this late hour. Adam considered turning and walking back the way he’d come, but Nick waved. Adam sighed and continued forward.

  “Adam,” Nick said, when Adam reached him.

  “I am in no mood to talk marriage,” Adam said.

  “You will be when you hear this. Mr. Shaw’s solicitor has sent the marriage contract.”

  Adam shot him a narrow-eyed glance and opened the gate leading to the house. Nick hurried to catch up as Adam strode up the walkway. The front door burst open, and two men hurried out. They brushed past Adam and Nick. Adam reached the door and, of course, Nicholas followed Adam up the stairs to his room.

  Once inside, Nick said, “Once the contract is signed—”

  “I do not care if the man is offering to buy me a stable full of horses. I have no wish to marry that dour woman.”

  Nick frowned. “What the devil are you talking about?” Adam started to reply, but Nick waved him off. “You will receive twenty thousand pounds upon signing the contract.”

  Adam blinked “You cannot be serious?”

  The earl nodded. “That isn’t all. On your wedding day, you receive another twenty thousand pounds.”

  Adam dropped onto the chair beside the table. “My God, that is equivalent to five years income on the property outside of Edinburgh that my father lost.”

  “There is more,” Nicholas said. “Upon the birth of your heir, you will receive another twenty thousand pounds, and ten thousand pounds for every other child girl or boy.”

  Adam stared. “Bloody hell, the man has more money than most of the peerage. How is that possible?”

  Nick laughed. “It is not all that difficult when you consider that he is a very astute businessman, and he doesn’t squander his money like most in the peerage. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that he has no wife to spend his money.”

  Adam couldn’t believe it. Forty thousand pounds. If he was frugal, he could run the estate for ten years and buy more horses. With every child born, he would receive even more. He’d always wanted children. Lena had said she would consider children, but he always knew that if she became pregnant, there was a good chance he would never know. When his father lost his wealth and killed himself, Adam’s dream for family died with him. Now—

  His mind screeched to a halt. He would have to sell his soul to obtain his dream. Was Miss Shaw really that bad? After all, he’d planned to marry Lena, a woman who traded him for his father’s fortune. Miss Shaw certainly couldn’t be any worse. Beatrice and said Miss Shaw was not in favor of the marriage. It seemed she had no more wish to be sold into marriage than did he. Could he spend his life with the woman who didn’t want him? Perhaps he could get more information from Beatrice. Nae, he couldn’t use her that way. It was a damn shamed Beatrice wasn’t Miss Shaw.

  “I can see the logic of the situation is finally becoming clear.”

  Nick’s voice intruded on his thoughts.

  Adam shook his head. “That is an obscene amount of money.”

  “You almost sound offended. Oh, I see,” Nick said before Adam could reply. “You’re angry that you are considering the proposition.” His friend pinned Adam with a hard look. “I hate to be blunt, but few women could be worse than Lady Fleming.”

  “Perhaps. But there are plenty of women just as bad.”

  Nick laughed. “Not Miss Shaw. Come now, Adam, do you believe I would urge you into a union with anyone but a woman of the finest character?”

  “I saw her.”

  Nick frowned. “What?”

  “The day she arrived. I happened to be walking on Lacy Street as she descended her carriage. The frown on her face was clear as day and could have made even the angels run.”

  “I didn’t know Miss Shaw was capable of frowning. She is a delightful young woman. A bit of a hoyden, but nothing you cannot handle. She is young, only twenty. But—”

  “A hoyden? I believe you have mistaken Miss Shaw for her lady’s companion, Miss Frasier.”

  “I grant you, I have only seen Miss Shaw and Miss Frasier once—no, twice—at parties. They look a great deal alike, but—” Nick raised his brows. “How do you know Beatrice?”

  Adam snorted. “The little baggage was wearing breeches and riding a fine Friesian mare.”

  “Beatrice wearing breeches?” Nicholas shook his head. “She would never do such a thing. Sophie’s father once commented that Beatrice acts more the lady than does his daughter. No, my friend, you have the two confused.”

  “Nick, I have spoken with the woman. I promise you, I am not mistaken. I—” Adam broke off and stared at his friend.

  “What is it?” Nick demanded.

  “Bloody hell,” Adam muttered.

  He did have the two women confused. He felt certain, however, Miss Sophie Shaw knew exactly who he was.

  Chapter Ten

  Murky images floated before Sophie. She discerned broad shoulders and became aware of a warm palm sliding upward on her thigh. A familiar scent surrounded her.

  Adam.

  Desire tightened her belly. His body came down upon her and crushed her into the mattress in the delicious way that only a man’s weight can. She slid her arms about his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. Oh, it had been so long since she’d been close to a man. His warm breath bathed her neck, and she shivered. In the murky darkness of her room—

  Were they in her room? Something felt unfamiliar.

  He reached between them and slipped into her wet channel. His thumb brushed her sex—

  Sophie cried out and snapped her eyes open. Morning sunlight streamed into her bedroom. She jammed her eyes shut against the sudden intrusion. She’d been dreaming of Adam. She hadn’t dreamt of a man since Matthew, and her dreams of Matthew hadn’t been so vivid or…sensual.

  She drew in a deep breath, the juncture between her legs throbbed in rhythm with her pounding heart. Adam was to accompany her to the wharf that evening. Her face heated. How would she face him after that dream?

  Her heart slowed, and Sophie opened her eyes. She didn’t have to tell Adam she’d dreamt of him. She was a widow. It wasn’t strange for a woman of the world to dream of a man. Was it? But the dream wasn’t really the problem. The problem was, she found him desirable.

  Sophie threw back the covers. So, he was desirable. She wasn’t the schoolgirl she’d been when she met Matthew. She could find a man desirable and still keep him at bay. Adam was the perfect escort and she very much wanted to visit the wharf. In particular, she wanted to visit the wharf with him.

  She forced her thoughts to what lay ahead for the day and Sophie grimaced. This afternoon, she had to attend a dull party. It would be her first social engagement, but she had no interest in attending parties. She wanted to see Edinburgh—all of Edinburgh.

  A soft knock sounded on the door, then Beatrice entered, a tray with hot chocolate and biscuits in hand. “Good morning, miss.” She set the tray on the bed beside Sophie.

  Sophie drew in deep of the sweet s
cent of chocolate and biscuits.

  “How are you feeling this morning, miss?” Beatrice asked.

  Sophie pushed to a sitting position. “I feel excellent, Bea. I had a wonderful time last night.” She took a small sip of the hot chocolate. “I half expected you to be here to scold me when I returned.”

  Beatrice picked up the pillow to Sophie’s left, then gently eased her forward and placed the pillow behind her. “If I had waited in your room, that might have given away your secret.”

  “Ah,” Sophie said with a sage nod. She sipped more of her chocolate.

  “Your aunt will be out for the day.”

  “Out for the day. That means I need not attend the card party.”

  Beatrice shook her head. “Your aunt has instructed her driver to take us to the party. She was very specific this morning before she left.”

  “Aunt Maddie spoke with you this morning?”

  “She did.”

  “Her driver, you say?” Sophie asked.

  “Miss, I suggest you do not underestimate your aunt. If you try to get out of going to this party, she will discover the truth.”

  Sophie took a bite of the biscuit. “You are right, of course. It isn’t worth the risk that she might prevent me from seeing Mr. MacAlister tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Beatrice blurted. “Surely, you are not seeing him again?”

  Sophie laughed. “Of course I’m seeing him again. I will see him every night, if possible.”

  Beatrice’s eyes widened. “You cannot spend so much time alone with a gentleman. They will have…expectations.”

  “He may have all the expectations he likes,” Sophie said with an airy wave of her hand. He did have a few, she suspected. “I have no intention of succumbing to passion.” Despite her dreams. “Though a kiss or two would be nice,” she said.

  “That is always how it starts,” Beatrice said. “A woman thinks a kiss or two would be nice. The next thing you know, her father is challenging the man to a dawn appointment.”