Page 16 of Midnight Rendezvous (Sins & Sensibilities #4)

CHAPTER 16

T he gambling room at Aphrodite was unlike any drawing room Penny had ever entered. Dark-paneled walls gleamed under the soft golden wash of candlelight. Heavy curtains in jewel-toned velvet blocked the windows, making it feel like night had wrapped itself around the place twice. Polished tables glittered with gold coins and ivory chips, and the low murmur of conversation mixed with the rustle of cards and occasional ripple of laughter or groan of loss.

A haze of cigar smoke floated in the air, and a footman passed with a silver tray holding glasses of brandy and flutes of champagne. Penny clutched Alexander's arm tighter, nerves fluttering in her stomach.

"Which game?" he asked, leaning in, his voice low and amused.

Her eyes scanned the tables. She ignored the busy whir of roulette, the steady hands at whist, and the boisterous cheer near hazard. Instead, her gaze landed on a quiet faro table, the banker a stately older man with a calm air and keen eyes.

"That one," she said, nodding toward it.

"Faro?" Alexander said with a brow arched. "A bold choice."

"I remember the rules and how often I beat Thomas," she said confidently, though her heart beat faster. "It's all chance and instinct, yes?"

"And card counting," he added with a glint of admiration. "Very well."

At her chair, he placed a firm hand on her shoulder before reaching into his coat and withdrawing his purse. From it, he counted ten pounds and set it beside her.

"My stake," he murmured.

Penny glanced up at him. "I'll do my best not to lose your money, my lord."

He leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. "See that you don't."

Her cheeks flamed, but she turned to the game, eager to prove herself. The first few hands were nerve-wracking. Her back remained straight, her gloved hands steady as she placed her bets on the layout, watching the dealer draw card after card. She lost the first hand. Then, the second. But she didn't flinch.

However, luck turned. A winning streak began, and her instincts were sharp. Her gaze never left the cards. Penny felt the rhythm of the game, a dancer in perfect time with music only she could hear. Ten pounds became fifty. Fifty became two hundred.

Gasps started to rise from the small group that had begun to gather. Cards were dealt. Another win. Then another. And another. The cards kept falling in her favor with astonishing precision. The room was a haze of murmurs and low laughter, the occasional clink of glass and rustle of silks and brocade adding to the heady atmosphere.

Penny perched on the edge of her seat, her gloved fingers pressed lightly against her lips as the dealer dealt again. A queen of hearts. She'd bet high on the queen. A ripple of excitement shivered down her spine.

"Queen takes it," the dealer announced with practiced cool, sweeping the chips toward her.

A soft gasp escaped her, quickly swallowed in a breathless laugh. Her modest pile of chips was now a small fortune. She leaned forward again. A gentleman across the table gave her an admiring glance, his brow raised, while another muttered something about beginner's luck.

The next hand began. Faro was a game of swift rhythm, and she moved with it easily, following the flow of cards, listening to the flick and snap as they were revealed. The king turned. Not hers.

But the next—a jack of clubs. She had placed a side bet, almost as an afterthought. Another win. She barely managed to suppress her delighted squeal. The pile before her grew again. She felt Alexander beside her, quiet and still, but she could feel the hum of his energy, the press of his attention focused entirely on her. His presence grounded her even as her pulse raced with every card turned.

And then it came—the final card of the round, the deciding moment. The ace of spades.

The table went still. She held her breath. She had bet on the ace.

The dealer nodded and pushed her winnings forward. "Ace wins again."

The air exploded with murmurs. Someone let out a low whistle. Penny's breath caught, her heart tripping wildly in her chest. Her gaze darted to Alexander, her eyes wide with disbelief and a glint of exhilaration.

"I've won..." she breathed. "Good heavens, I've won a thousand pounds."

She turned to him, laughing in awe, and without thinking, flung her arms around him. Alexander caught her with a quiet grunt, steadying them both as she pressed her cheek to his chest. Penny's breathless laughter spilled between them. His arms folded around her slowly, and when she looked up, something entirely different flickered in his gaze.

Alexander stared down at her, his beautiful mouth tilted in the faintest smile. But it was his eyes that stopped her breath. They were soft, tender, devastating, and lustful. Her laughter faded. Blushing, she stepped back, her gaze dropping. She straightened the jacket she wore, brushing her hands over it unnecessarily.

"These winnings," she said, voice a bit shaky but determined, "are my gift to you."

He stared at her.

She continued, "I shall return here several nights and gamble for you. I can win more . That way...you don't have to fight. You don't have to be hurt."

He didn't speak. Penny looked up and met his gaze. "I mean it," she whispered. "Please... don't let yourself be hurt again. I'll sneak away from home as often as I can. I'm good at other games—we can devise a plan and find ways to earn. I receive a monthly allowance. I'll send it to you."

She drew a steadying breath, her voice softening. "I've painted several watercolors over the years. My mother said they were very good, though I confess I haven't painted in months. Still, I've heard of ladies managing to sell their work. Quietly. I could discreetly shop around and see if anyone might want to buy some of mine."

Realizing she was rambling, she pressed her lips together. The silence that followed stretched between them, heavy with all the words left unspoken. She longed to tell him how frightened she was—how deeply she feared that one day he might take a blow he wouldn't recover from. That she might lose him forever.

Alexander's gaze lingered on her, unreadable. Then, slowly, so gently, it made her breath catch, he reached out and brushed his thumb along her cheek, tracing the soft skin just below her eye.

"You don't need to risk your reputation to rescue me," he said, his voice low and rough-edged. "Not for coin. Not for me."

Penny's heart clenched. "But I want to," she said, lifting her chin. "You are always pushing yourself to the brink, fighting with your fists, hurting your body... and I—"

He touched her lips with two fingers, silencing her.

"No more tonight." His tone was final but not cold. Almost reverent. "Come. Let me take you home."

She opened her mouth to protest, to insist she was not ready to go, not when there was so much more she wanted to say. But the look in his eyes held a plea beneath the command. And the brush of his hand as he took hers—warm, protective, a little desperate—stripped her will to argue. He guided her from the card room with a protective arm around her waist. The raucous atmosphere of Aphrodite fell behind them, muffled by velvet curtains and heavy doors, replaced by the cool hush of night.

Outside, the crisp air kissed her flushed cheeks. A carriage had already been summoned, and his driver waited at the ready. Alexander helped her inside, his hand steady at her back, and climbed in after her without a word. He hauled her gently against his side, and she smiled as she rested her head on his shoulder.

For a moment, she closed her eyes and simply breathed him in—the faint scent of sandalwood and leather, the steady rise and fall of his chest. She let herself lean into his quiet strength, letting it wrap around her like a balm. Here, like this, she felt safe and protected, as if nothing in the world could touch her as long as he held her.

"Once lost, your reputation will almost be impossible to regain," he said after a beat, lacing their gloved hands together and gently squeezing her fingers. "You are taking too many risks to come see me. It is already a miracle that your family has not discovered the maids you've bribed."

"I do bribe them very generously," she drawled, trying for levity, though a small knot tightened in her chest at the reminder of just how reckless she had been. One whispered word could destroy everything. Her father would be apoplectic. Her mother... disappointed beyond repair.

"You must stop," he said, his tone clipped and biting.

The command lashed through her, and she scowled. "No."

"Penny—"

"I know what you're thinking," she said softly, tilting her face to look up at him. "That I'm taking these risks only for you. That it's foolish. That you're not worth it because we are nothing more than friends and something... peculiar."

He stilled beside her. But he did not argue.

"I'm doing this for me," she whispered, voice barely a thread. "Because when I am with you, I feel as if the rest of the world falls away. The expectations. The rules. The weight." Her throat worked, and she blinked quickly. "I feel so damn caged by my family's hopes, by society's script for my life. Mama speaks as though ruin is knocking at our door and that only my marriage can hold it at bay. That I must save everyone."

Her voice cracked. "But why must I be the one? Why not Thomas, who will inherit everything? Why does my worth only extend to how well I can attract a duke or an earl?"

She turned away slightly, but he kept their fingers threaded together, and it gave her the courage to continue.

"And the duke... he is kind, proper, intelligent. A good man. But I feel hollow when I imagine my life with him—gowns and dinners, children and duty. As if I am stepping into a role someone else wrote for me. I've spent my life doing what was expected, and then I met you. And suddenly..."

She let out a shaky breath. "Suddenly, I realized there is so much I haven't lived. Haven't seen. Haven't felt . You make me curious. About the world. About myself. There are parts of life I want to explore before I become someone's wife and mother."

Penny's voice turned quiet, vulnerable. "And when I'm with you... I remember I'm allowed to want more. I understand the risks I take, Alexander. I do not need you to caution me away."

"I understand," he said quietly.

"Good," she replied just as softly.

The carriage rolled to a stop a few feet from her home, nestled in the shadows just beyond the glow of the nearest gas lamp. Alexander stepped down first, then offered his hand to help her alight. When she did, he didn't let go right away. His gaze had a complicated look, as if he wanted to say something but knew he shouldn't.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"For... everything."

Alexander studied her for a long moment, then reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing along her skin in a tender, aching stroke. The touch seared straight to her soul.

"I would keep you from every shadow if I could," he murmured. "If you were mine, I would take you on every adventure I could dream. I'd sail you through the English Channel, take you to bathe naked in the Aegean Sea, to Venice, to Rome. I'd take you to Egypt and show you the Nile under a violet sky."

Her mouth trembled, and she swallowed the surge of emotion that rose like a tide. "I know," she whispered. "I know what I'm sacrificing. I know what I've lost."

His hand dropped from her cheek like it pained him to let her go. Without another word, she turned and hurried up the steps and into the house, leaving him behind in the night. But God help her—it was impossible to stop loving him, even knowing the heartbreak that loomed like a storm just beyond the horizon.