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

“My dear Lord Leopold, may I present Miss Kathleen Andilet, newly arrived from the country,” simpered Mrs. Burton.

“Miss Angela Andilet, the elder of the two sisters, is sadly indisposed for tonight’s revelry, and I was charged with keeping an eye on our young lady here since she came alone.

I spent time with her father in the country, you see. Good… Good family. Good man, really.”

Leopold bowed low, as was befitting his own station more than her own. Miss Andilet’s sparkling eyes did not leave his own and when he straightened up, Mrs. Burton continued.

“Miss Andilet, may I introduce you to Lord Leopold Chance, son of the Duke of Cothrom. Although now I suppose I should say brother of the Duke of Cothrom! It is all very strange, Miss Andilet. We were all quite astonished when we heard.”

Miss Andilet’s brow had furrowed. Her exquisite brow , Leopold could not help but think. There was an elegance in it that he had not expected. Not realized was possible in the mere inch of movement.

“Your brother,” she repeated. “I suppose I should offer you my condolences on the loss of your father.”

“Oh, no, the Chance family do things differently,” twittered Mrs. Burton, making Leopold wince. “Yes, I was quite surprised when I heard—not over there, you silly girl, over here!”

Their hostess stormed off in a flurry of lace and irritation. Leopold glanced over to see a maid attempting to find a place to put down a tray of delicious-looking cakes, taking shallow breaths and appearing just as harassed as the footman had been.

“The Chance family do things differently,” said an amused, quiet voice. “Why am I not surprised?”

Leopold turned back to Miss Andilet and realized there was a most inexplicable heat within him. Dear Lord, it was rising.

Am I…flushing?

“Yes, I suppose in a way, we do,” he said aloud, stepping to the side of the room and feeling a strange sense of gratification when Miss Andilet mirrored him.

“My father decided to relinquish the title to my brother about six months ago. As the father of the current duke, Society has come to refer to him as ‘the Dowager Duke of Cothrom.’”

Miss Andilet’s eyes widened. “That is unheard of.”

“That’s the Chance way,” Leopold said, trying to smile through the awkwardness. “We never were ones for obeying all the laws of Society. Even my father—he is the most stringent stickler for the rules I ever met, until they disagree with him. Then he completely disregards them.”

She smiled at that, and the smile warmed Leopold in a way he had not expected. Not just desire, though he could not ignore the desire that was burgeoning inside him. No, it was more than that. She made him feel…

Comfortable.

Comfortable? It was hardly the heady lust he had known before.

“I like the sound of your father,” Miss Andilet said quietly. “It sounds as though you have inherited the best of him.”

Leopold had not intended his chest to swell at that compliment, but he could not help it. “You say that and you have not even met him,” he could not help but point out.

“No, but even from the short description of him, I can see he has a strong moral compass yet also a desire to follow his own sense, rather than the tired rules of Society,” Miss Andilet said quietly as she looked out at the other guests of Mrs. Burton’s.

“Something I wish I could do more often myself.”

It had also not been his intention to step closer to Miss Andilet. There was certainly no need for it—he could hear her perfectly well from where he was standing. Yet something drew him closer.

Perhaps it was lust. There was certainly something magnetic about this woman. Slight and inconsequential as her clothes marked her, there was something…something alluring about this woman.

And she was here, at Mrs. Burton’s.

That simple fact jolted something through Leopold’s body he had not expected. Well, meeting her in the woodland of the London Archery Club, then meeting her once by appointment…she could have been anyone. He certainly had no clear idea of her standing in Society.

But here she was, a guest of Mrs. Burton, the widow even asked to be her chaperone for the evening. To be sure, neither of them had titles…but then, his own mother had been a mere “Miss” before she had become a duchess.

Leopold’s lungs constricted, just for a moment.

And that meant Miss Andilet was an actual prospect.

The thought roared through his mind as his whole body responded in delight. Where had this need come from? Why were his interests so instantly aligned to this woman he barely knew?

Barely knew—and yet wanted to know?

“You must be stiff.”

Leopold almost fell over. “I-I beg your pardon?”

“From all the archery that you did the other day,” Miss Andilet continued blithely, as though she had not just said something which could have been taken as wildly inappropriate. “All that talk of butts—you must be exhausted. And your shoulder, does it not ache?”

Trying to collect himself and reminding himself that his mind may have been in the gutter, but Miss Andilet’s certainly wasn’t, Leopold tried to smile.

It was his fault, really. It had been amusing, all his mention of butts…

until he’d found his gaze meandering into a quite disreputable direction.

“Ah, yes. Yes, it does ache a little. I apologize that our lesson was cut short—the place was getting rather crowded. You have not yet had the opportunity to draw a bow yourself.”

“Perhaps in our next lesson,” said Miss Andilet, her eyelids fluttering almost coquettishly. “Our bet is still on, is it not?”

Their bet? Leopold needed no bet to wish to see this woman again.

“Mrs. Burton certainly draws an interesting crowd, does she not?”

Leopold blinked. “I-I beg your pardon?”

Miss Andilet smiled as someone began to play the pianoforte again and a footman whose wig was now on backward offered them glasses of wine.

She took one and then turned back to Leopold.

“I said, Mrs. Burton draws an interesting crowd. I had no idea that she had such lofty connections as yourself. I have even heard that the great card sharp, one of the Chances, is in attendance tonight. A relation, I presume?”

And that was when all the warm, delightful feelings started to sour.

The great card sharp, one of the Chances.

Oh, hell. Was it possible his maligned reputation had truly traveled that far? Was it not enough that he had merely been good at cards—now people he did not even know were actually calling him a card sharp?

“I do not think the nickname is warranted,” was all he could manage to say through a tight jaw.

Perhaps wine would help. Yes, wine would always help.

Leopold threw back the glass and a wash of the wine hit his throat. It was indeed a very good vintage. The trouble was, one wasn’t supposed to inhale it.

Coughing profusely and attracting the stares of those around them, Leopold wondered whether it was worth staying.

A hand landed gently on his arm. A warm hand, one that reassured yet tempted. That was when he knew he could never leave this place while Miss Andilet was still within it.

“Are you quite well?” Miss Andilet’s face was a picture of concern. “I do apologize. I should not have brought up your relative. I… I suppose it is a great family embarrassment, such a reputation for one of your own.”

Blinking through the tears his coughing fit had created, Leopold wondered whether he could escape this conversation without having to admit to the truth: that he was the one everyone was gossiping about.

He tried to smile. “Oh, I don’t know. As a family we are mostly inured to such—”

“There he is—Lord Leopold, old chap!” Mr. Lister, a short man with sunken eyes, smirked as he paused by them in his walk toward the door. “I do hope you aren’t going to cheat us all at the card tables later, Lord Leopold.”

Leopold’s jaw stiffened. Mr. Lister was a person hardly worthy of the label ‘gentleman’ and had been a most unpleasant and persistent suitor of not one, but three of the Chances of his generation.

His father before him had been similarly unpleasant, Leopold’s mama had said.

The Dowager Duchess of Cothrom had him barred from her soirees.

Leopold would have given the man a fresh opportunity to prove himself, had not the man attempted to kiss his sister, Maude.

She had not precisely broken the man’s nose, but it had been seriously bruised for several weeks.

He had to say something. Leopold knew he had to respond. That dratted Mr. Lister was waiting for a response.

Damn my mouth. Why isn’t it working?

“Such a shame you lost all that money.” Mr. Lister sneered. “But I suppose it was on purpose, to prevent people from guessing that you were cheating. Such a desperate attempt.”

The man moved away just as Leopold realized his tongue was, indeed, able to move.

But there was no point. The man had gone, the unpleasant and entirely false words spoken for all to hear, and—

Oh, blast. For Miss Andilet to hear.

When she spoke, her cheeks were pink. “It’s you. You are the member of the Chance family whom everyone is saying is a card sharp. You are the one who lost all that money. You are the one people are saying is…is a cheat.”

Leopold did his best to remain calm. Really, he thought he should be congratulated for just how calm he managed to stay. When he spoke, there was only a hint of pain and loathing in his words. “That is my current reputation, yes. It is not the truth.”

He wanted to say more. He wanted to say that he had always been good at cards, and it was other people’s jealousy that had led to these rumors.

That he had lost, yes, but he had not cheated before, during, or since that card game.

That a man’s reputation could be lost so quickly and so unfairly, and he did not know how to restore it.

Say something, man! “It was a misunderstanding, that was all—I believed the bet to be one thing, my opponent another.”

“A bet is a very serious business,” came her gentle reply.

Leopold’s stomach lurched. This was not the sort of conversation one should be having with young ladies, and this was most certainly not the correct location to have it. The conversation one should not have, that was.

Oh, blast it all.

“I paid the man, but there was a great deal of misunderstanding and irritation,” Leopold said stiffly, desperate to finish the story off and move on. “The rumors exaggerate all. The money, the disagreement, and the fact was that I did not cheat .”

The last few words were spoken with such emphasis that the people around them paused in their conversations for a moment. Leopold’s cheeks burned. They burned all the hotter when people continued their conversations, this time with additional glances in his direction.

Miss Andilet’s expression softened. “Well, then. I… I am sorry I listened to the rumors.”

“Gossips will always seek to tear down another,” Leopold said, keeping his voice to a low murmur as he felt more eyes glancing over.

I should never have come . “They no doubt live in fear that it could happen to themselves, for they believe there is nothing worse than a ruin. Miss—Miss Andilet, are you quite well?”

Her face had suddenly changed. Oh, the beauty remained—there was a delicacy and a beauty in her face that Leopold was almost certain could not be altered.

But she had gone pale, her eyes unfocused, as though she were thinking of something most terrible. Leopold glanced over to where she was staring but could see naught that could accost her in such a terrible manner.

“Miss Andilet?”

She blinked. When she blinked for a second time, her eyes focused, and she turned to look at him with her lips slightly pressed together, a little shake of her head.

Is she disappointed? In me?

“I am afraid I need to depart,” she said vaguely. “Good evening, Lord Leopold.”

“Good evening, Miss Andilet, but should you be leaving without—”

Without her chaperone?

That was what he had intended to say. Mrs. Burton did not notice her charge disappearing.

Indeed, she had been distracted by half a dozen guests since she had left their sides.

It did not matter; Miss Andilet had slipped from the drawing room at a pace Leopold had not thought possible, disappearing from view and taking her delightful company with her.

What had he said?

“You do not seem to have made much of an impression.”

Leopold groaned as his brother nudged him in the shoulder. “Yes, thank you, Thomas.”

“I’m just saying, if you need any guidance, with the ladies, I’m your man.”

“The day that I come to you for help with the ladies is the day that hell freezes over,” Leopold said, attempting to force some levity in his voice as his gaze remained fixed on the door that Miss Andilet had just departed through.

His brother snorted. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. Now, we cannot play cards—at least, you cannot play cards. With whom do you wish to converse next?”

Leopold tried to smile. No one , he wanted to say. I wish to go home and think about Miss Andilet, and all I wished I could say to her.