Lady Alex's Gamble by Evelyn Richardson Page B

in an instant, had been struck by a sense of inconsistency. Alexander's movements were those of a man who was more than a little disguised, yet the look he had initially directed at Christopher before being introduced by his brother had nothing of the blank stare that bespoke a fogged brain. On the contrary, it had been extremely acute and speculative, as though he were taking 83
    Lady Alex's Gamble
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    the measure of Major Lord Wrotham in a way that few people bothered to do. He had quickly hastened to dispel this impression of alertness by staring stupidly at Christopher during the actual introduction, but not before Christopher had noticed the difference in the two looks. This seeming contradiction had aroused Christopher's curiosity and thus made him extremely sensitive to impressions, such as the lack of the smell of spirits on the breath of a man who had enough empty bottles at his elbow to have befuddled several men.
    Lord Wrotham had spent enough time among soldiers to be able to detect the signs of those who had consorted too freely with Bacchus. He had also seen more men than he cared to count insist that they were sober enough to take on any task, men who had learned to sober up enough to walk steadily and look lively, but they had never been able to disguise the pungent aroma of spirits that they exuded. Alexander de Montmorency had not exuded any such aroma. Then he must have been at great pains to convince the rest of the table that he was foxed, Christopher realized. Such a deception could only have been employed for one reason—
    he wished to lull the minds of his opponents into dullness and complacency in order to win more easily. He was a man intent upon winning, there was little doubt of that. Wrotham did not think for one minute that the young man had employed nefarious methods, for he had observed him closely enough to see every play and to be assured that it was pure skill and not marked cards that had won him over a thousand pounds mat evening.
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    The major's blue eyes narrowed. Yes, Alexander de Montmorency was definitely a man to bear watching—not that Christopher distrusted the man, for he did not appear to be dishonest except in his misrepresentation of the befuddled state of his mind—but because the man was so obviously determined to win consistently and even more determined that no one realize that he was doing this. Why? He did not betray the wild gleam in the eye of the hardened gamester, nor were his bets anything out of the ordinary. In fact, they were so paltry that those devoted to the Goddess Fortune were likely to scoff, but their very modest nature was unusual in itself.
    Every indication pointed to a man working toward some goal. A military man himself, the major knew enough to appreciate a well-developed strategy when he saw one, and Christopher felt sure that he was seeing one now. The idea intrigued him. That any member of the ton should systematically set out to earn money was highly irregular and made Christopher exceedingly curious about the character of the man behind such an endeavor.
    Surely someone bent on winning money steadily, a little at a time, would undoubtedly return the next day, and the next day he, Wrotham, would be there to watch him. It was bound to be more rewarding to observe this man relieve foolish, wealthy players of their money than trying to get an overly cautious Parliament to commit to sending Wellington the crack troops he had commanded in the Peninsula or calling out the militia. Yes, it would be most interesting. We shall see how well your plan proceeds on the morrow, sirrah, 85
    Lady Alex's Gamble
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    Christopher muttered to himself as he too headed toward the door.
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Chapter 9
    Alex wove along St. James Street for some distance, her pace as uneven as it had been when she quitted White's. At