Page 40 of To Heist and to Hold
But this was not doing him any good, and there were still answers he needed. “Now it is your turn, madam,” he said. “Who is this victim, and what are the claims against my club? I vow to take any accusations seriously and to investigate fully to make things right.”
Once more the women stared at him, though now their surprise was palpable. “You are serious,” Lady Vastkern said.
“I am.”
She considered him for another long moment, as if weighing his words. Something in his face must have revealed his sincerity; her mouth closed with a snap and she nodded. “Very well. Though as this case is closest to Heloise, why doesn’t she provide the information you require.”
Closest to Heloise? His gaze snapped to her, but her features didn’t betray an ounce of emotion, her gaze staying quite firmly upon his chin.
“The person in question is very close to me,” she began, voice a carefully modulated monotone. But she couldn’t control it as well as her expression, agitation making it quake ever so slightly. For some reason, that fact gave him some relief. She was not as unaffected as she would have him believe.
“She was present during your last masquerade,” she continued.
“Her employer brought her and funded her play. But in the process, massive losses were incurred. Including the very valuable ruby jewelry set her employer was wearing that night. When my friend returned the following day with the funds to reclaim the jewelry, she was told there was no record of such a thing being lost to the house.”
That took him aback. They were meticulous in their records, each win and loss recorded, no matter the size.
And as a rule, if someone wished to reclaim property lost to Dionysus, they were allowed to purchase it back.
At twice the cost of the loss, of course, but even so, he was not so cruel that he would not allow that much.
After all, they were not in the business of collecting jewels and houses and horses, but of making a profit.
“The jewelry is quite precious,” Heloise continued, voice tightening. “Her employer informed her that, as it was lost while my friend was playing, if it is not recovered in its entirety, she will be reported for theft.”
Which meant this friend would be either hanged or transported. The stark realization of the danger this person was in settled on his shoulders, made all the heavier with his history giving it weight.
Even so, someone losing much more than they could afford was not uncommon.
It was the gamble one took, quite literally, when playing with stakes as high as those under Dionysus’s roof.
“It is unfortunate, I will give you that,” he said, sitting forward, resting his elbows on his knees and steepling his fingers under his chin.
“But why does this person believe she was cheated by Dionysus?”
Finally emotion showed on Heloise’s face as her cheeks flushed with heat. “My… friend has a certain talent.” She paused. “She is able to predict with impressive accuracy the cards that will be played.”
“You mean she counts cards,” he replied dryly.
Heloise paused ever so slightly before giving a stiff nod.
Ethan let loose a heavy sigh, leaning back in his seat and running a hand over his face.
Counting cards was a talent, yes, but a rare one, and with the harm it could do his club, one they understandably discouraged, to the point that if a person was discovered doing such a thing, they were barred from Dionysus for life.
In this case, however, he could not fail to see how such a person would be invaluable in identifying not only cheating but also the perpetrator involved. “I can see you are very protective of this… friend of yours,” he said. “But would it be possible for me to meet with her?”
Heloise paused, her eyes darting up to meet his. And the distrust there had his fury boiling once more. What right did she have to distrust him, given how cruelly she had been playing him for a fool all this time?
In the next moment, however, a voice of reason whispered through his head: In truth, she had no reason to trust him.
She had been driven by the fact that this friend of hers—whoever she might be—was in danger because of his club.
No doubt she had gained access to Dionysus—and himself as well, though he could not think of that deception without wanting to tear his heart from his chest—with the sole purpose of recovering the lost jewels. She was fighting for her friend’s life.
And so he was not at all surprised when her gaze dropped once more to her lap and she mumbled, “I will discuss it with her and let you know.”
Which, he knew, was all he would get from her today. Just then the woman named Strachan entered, holding a heavily laden tray aloft with one hand. But the thought of taking coffee with these women made him physically ill.
As the housekeeper deposited the tray on the low table, he rose. All the women started, looking up at him with surprise.
“You are leaving, Mr. Sinclaire?” Lady Vastkern queried, motioning to the tray. “Before refreshments?”
The nutty scent of fresh coffee reached his nose. Any other time he would have gladly accepted a drink. He was a man who could appreciate a good coffee, after all, and with the hours he kept, he imbibed it generously.
Not now, however. No, now just the idea of it turned his stomach.
“I’m afraid I have somewhere to be,” he said smoothly. “I shall await word from you on your friend, Mrs. Marlow.”
At his use of her name, so formal, so cold, she visibly flinched. But she raised her chin, nodding stiffly before turning back to look out that damnable window.
Giving her one last long look, he sketched shallow bows to the other women before striding from the room, achingly aware of Heloise behind him—as well as the hopes and dreams he had left with her, like a spilled deck of cards at her feet.