One Night With A Prince by Sabrina Jeffries Page A

surprise, Christabel said, “Why would I do that? Then he wouldn’t be any fun anymore.”
    Gavin bit back a smile. Perhaps the woman could manage this after all.
    “Pray continue, Mr. Talbot,” his wily pretend mistress went on. “Explain the rules for your wicked whist game.”
    “Gladly, madam.” Talbot’s eyes gleamed as he gazed down Christabel’s bodice. “The stakes are any item of clothing or adornment on one’s person—coat, gown, jewelry, watches, etc. A man’s purse and a woman’s reticule are excluded, as are other nonattire items, such as weapons. For every point the opposing team gains, the members of the losing team each have to give over an article of attire.”
    “That’s ridiculous,” Lady Hungate put in. “The stakes are deplorably uneven. A watch can hardly equal a stocking.”
    “That isn’t the point,” Talbot retorted irritably. “The point is to strip both members of one team down to Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html nothing. The game ends when one side is naked.”
    Though Christabel swallowed convulsively, she kept her gaze fixed on her cards. “And do you and your friends play this game…often?”
    Eleanor laughed. “Not as often as Talbot would like.”
    “Don’t listen to them, Lady Haversham,” Lady Hungate said as she rearranged the cards in her hand.
    “This is the first I’ve even heard of it. Appalling idea—taking off one’s clothes before a group of cardplayers. Mr. Talbot and Lady Jenner are only trying to shock you. It’s their favorite pastime.”
    “Then they’re in good company with Byrne,” Christabel remarked.
    “Oh, Byrne isn’t as shocking as he sometimes seems.” Lady Hungate cast him an arch look. “Boys will be boys.”
    Gavin stifled a chuckle. Lady Hungate was the only former mistress whom he counted as a friend, even if she was the biggest hypocrite in London. They’d made abysmal lovers—she’d had tastes too bizarre even for him. But he still enjoyed talking to her; her gossip sources exceeded his own by a mile.
    “Speaking of boys,” Eleanor said, “a few weeks ago I ran into that young card cheat Byrne and I played in wicked whist. The fellow said little Lydia had left him to work in some dress shop the day after our game. It seems his mistress didn’t approve of his manner of making a living, and adamantly refused to help him cheat people anymore. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Byrne?”
    Gavin concentrated on his cards, though he could feel Christabel’s gaze boring into him. “Why should I?”
    “You seemed rather taken with the pretty young Lydia, as I recall.”
    Hard to be “taken with” a girl little more than eighteen. Especially when she stared up at you with haunted eyes, utterly bewildered to have ended up naked in a stranger’s bedchamber instead of her card cheat lover’s arms. What was he supposed to do with a chit like that? Not bed her, that’s for sure.
    “Don’t be absurd, Eleanor. The girl was nothing more than a night’s entertainment. I haven’t given a thought to her since.” He played his only decent card, trumping her king. “And you would be better served paying attention to your game than annoying me with stupid questions.”
    “Indeed, she would,” Lady Hungate said tersely, as they finished the round with a surprising win for Gavin and Christabel. “Stokely is going to eat us for breakfast if you don’t attend better than this, Eleanor.”
    To his and Christabel’s misfortune, Eleanor began to pay better attention at once. They’d had some luck with that last hand, but neither his skill nor their luck could continue the wins. Christabel’s playing simply wasn’t sophisticated enough to beat the likes of Eleanor and Lady Hungate. Nor did the other distractions in the room help—Talbot’s leering down her bodice, Markham’s lewd jokes, and Talbot’s wife kissing her lover with her husband right there in the