The Lady In Question by Victoria Alexander Page A

corners of his mouth under his mustache quirked upward slightly in what just might have been a smile.
    “Could that possibly be a joke, Gordon?”
    “Possibly.”
    A few minutes later they were seated across from one another at the backgammon table at the near end of the small library. It was an exceptionally fine set: the markers made of ebony and ivory, the table inlaid with mahogany and rosewood. She would expect no less from Charles. Indeed, while she planned on changing much of the furnishings in the house, she had to admit everything was of excellent quality. Apparently, Charles had spent his money on more than wild living.
    They played silently for a few minutes, the game moving quickly and rather more evenly matched than she’d let on.
    “You have lied to me, my lady,” he murmured, not raising his gaze from the board.
    “Have I?” She smiled to herself.
    “You are far better at this than you led me to believe.”
    “I too enjoy a good joke, Gordon.”
    “Indeed.” He rolled the dice. “However,” he said, and moved a marker, sending one of hers out of play, “this is a game of both chance and skill. There is a certain amount of luck involved. The skill is in best knowing how to take advantage of it.”
    She put the dice in the cup, rolled them out, then replaced her marker on the board and tried not to smirk. “You mean like that?”
    “Exactly.” The butler’s concentration was firmly on the lay of the board.
    “You should know Effingtons refuse to lose. It is in our blood.”
    “Then this shall be a new experience for you, my lady.”
    A few moves more and it was clear he did indeed know how best to take advantage of the luck of the dice. And clear, as well, luck was on his side. She took scant comfort in the fact that he had not trounced her in his victory.
    “Another round, my lady?” Innocence sounded in his voice and once more she thought she noted at least a hint of a smile.
    “Most definitely,” she said firmly. She had never been especially good at losing. She didn’t know an Effington who was.
    They replaced the markers and began again. He was good, but so was she. She watched him move his markers without hesitation, his hands strong and sure and not at all the hands of an elderly man. She had played any number of times with her father, and his hands had a much more aged look to them than Gordon’s did, even though her father was a younger man. Odd, how people showed age in various ways. Her grandmother had seen eighty years and her mind was sharp and clear as was Gordon’s when it came to games and finances; but Gordon did seem a bit muddled when it came to the position he had held for much of his life.
    “Do you have family, Gordon?” she asked idly.
    “I am alone in the world, ma’am,” he murmured, his attention firmly on the game.
    “Oh, dear, I am sorry.” Even now, she couldn’t imagine being without any family at all.
    “It is simply a fact of my life.”
    “Did you always wish to be a butler?”
    “My father was a butler, as was his father before him.” He studied the board. “I never considered anything else.”
    “Do you like it?”
    “I find great satisfaction in service, my lady. My years with Lord Marchant were quite fulfilling.” His manner was offhand, his voice had the cadence of a recitation, no doubt because he was intent upon the game. “I am quite content with my life.”
    “But if you could have done something else, what would it have been?” she pressed.
    “I should have liked to sail the seas and explore undiscovered parts of the world,” he said without pause.
    She stared in surprise. “Really?”
    He looked up, startled, as if he weren’t aware he had said it aloud.
    “Why didn’t you, then?”
    “I…” For a moment he seemed befuddled, as if searching for memories so old he could no longer recall them. “It was merely a boyhood desire for adventure, my lady, with no more substance to it than that.”
    “But you didn’t