Page 19 of A Sporting Chance (The Chances #8)

“Perhaps it is,” he shot back over his shoulder as he pulled her, laughing, down the street. “And yet I would rather do it with you than anyone!”

Joy vibrated through her as Kathleen heard his words. It was nonsensical, it was ridiculous—it was a risk, a risk they were both taking when on shaky ground already.

But her hand was in his and she did not wish to let go.

“Here,” panted Leopold, drawing up outside a nondescript door she could not have recognized if she saw it tomorrow.

“Here?” Kathleen was similarly winded, their running through the midnight summer streets of London making her feel far more adventurous than she had ever been in her life.

Approaching the archery club had not been without risk, her daring bet with Leopold even bolder of her, but this was the sort of thing that Angela did!

That Angela had done.

A curl of foreboding tightened around her. And that was precisely how her sister had damaged her reputation. Was this a good idea? Perhaps she should go back.

Leopold knocked on the door. “I’ve never come here before, but Cousin Samuel always said—ah. In we go.”

The door had opened and noise spilled out through its frames. Kathleen had no time to think, no time to dwell on whether or not this was the worst idea she had ever gone along with. All she could do was allow herself to be pulled forward into—

It was quite clearly a gaming hell. Having never been in one before, Kathleen supposed she could not swear to it, but she had eyes. She had read the newspapers.

There was the bar, along which a number of gentlemen were attempting to attract the attention of a pretty woman in a gown so low, it revealed parts of her corset. Precisely what they wanted to attract her attention for, Kathleen decided not to speculate.

There were a number of tables dotted about the dingy room lit by a plethora of candles and, even in the heat of midsummer, a roaring fire at the other end of the room.

The inhabitants of the tables ranged from refined gentlemen and absolute rakes to working-class men with dirt under their fingernails and mended rips in their jackets.

There was laughter, and music from a fiddler in the corner, and the smell of ale, and cigars, and it was so intoxicating that it was a few moments before Kathleen realized what her mind had been shouting since she had stepped inside.

Apart from the woman behind the bar…she was the only lady.

“So,” Leopold said with a wink. “Worth coming?”

Flickers of uncertainty mingled with flutters of excitement. Kathleen hardly knew what to say. “This is a gaming hell?”

His grin said it all. “Fancy a game?”

A game of cards, here? With strangers—with unsuitable acquaintances for an Andilet?

“Well…I suppose…why not?” Kathleen said breathlessly, trying to be bold. “After all, there is not going to be anyone here who will recog—”

“Leopold Frederick Matthew Chance, what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

She had expected him to drop her hand, to step away, to immediately dissociate from her entirely.

What Kathleen had not expected was for Leopold to pull her closer to him, to place an arm around her waist and to stare determinedly at the gentleman who was bearing down upon them.

Panic flooded through her, disrupting any semblance of good ideas, and all she could do was look at the stranger and wonder what he—now she came to look at him, he bore a striking resemblance to Leopold.

Certainly not identical, no—but the same jawline, the spark of intelligence in the eyes. While Leopold had a softness in his smile, this man had pressed his lips firmly together and was crossing his arms as he walked.

“What possessed you to come here, cousin?” muttered the gentleman as he halted before them, his eyes darting about the place as though terrified they would be seen together.

“And it is lovely to see you too,” Leopold said in an undertone. “This is my cousin, Samuel, and this is Miss—”

“Do not even think of saying her name here, you idiot!” hissed presumably Lord Samuel Chance. “What were you thinking?”

Kathleen swallowed. It was more than a little scandalous, now she had time to think about it—but she had been swept away on the excitement of it all. The opportunity to see a part of the world that had always been hidden from her, the rebellious side of her taking over…

Only now did she think of Angela, reading at home, presuming her obedient and respectable younger sister was still in the next room. Eating cake.

“I never thought I would have to berate one of Uncle William’s boys,” Leopold’s cousin was saying under his breath in a flood of words, “but honestly, what made you think this was suitable? Bringing a lady, for she is quite clearly a lady and not a—”

“Careful, man,” Leopold warned in a low tone.

Cheeks pinking, pulse flickering, Kathleen tried not to think about it.

“ I , careful! You are the one who showed up here like this!”

“Miss Andilet and I wished to see a gaming hell, and that is precisely what we have done,” Leopold said carefully, his hand on her waist unmoving.

He would not disown her. He would not abandon her, as that odious other man had done her sister.

And the joy of that realization, the understanding that this was a man far different from those she had met, and that she wanted to know him, wanted his hand on her waist, wanted more, in fact, crashed over Kathleen’s mind like a torrential wave.

“…and now we will leave,” Leopold was saying, his grip around her unrelenting. “Come, Miss Andilet.”

Leopold’s cousin Samuel was looking daggers at him but appeared unwilling to argue with their swift departure. “No one in the family shall hear about this.”

“They had better not.”

The murmur was surely not for Kathleen to hear, but she did, and it twisted her conscience. Had she not learned enough of the risks of losing one’s honor? Must she be a viewer, nay, a participant this time in another’s downfall?

The air of London had never smelled so fresh as they stepped outside, the door snapping shut behind them.

“I am sorry,” Leopold said helplessly.

And Kathleen could not help but smile. She was starting to fall in love with him, which was a complete mistake. She felt things for Leopold that he would surely never return, and she would have to learn to accept that.

Yet he was the one apologizing again.

“Will you not escort me home, Lord Leopold?” she said primly, though with a dazzle in her eye. “I believe my sister is expecting me.”

For a moment, it looked as though Leopold was going to say something. Something, that was, other than what he did say. “It would be my honor.”