Surrender by Amanda Quick

knew the value of a cool head
    and the ability to push aside all emotion
    in the midst of battle or a card game.
    Cold-blooded logic was the key to survival
    and Lucas knew it.
    He was well aware that the reason he
    was able to survive and even flourish at
    the tables of the clubs and gaming hells of
    London was simply that he never allowed
    his emotions to interfere with his play.
    Unlike the wildly impulsive young bucks,
    the flamboyant, drunken lords, or the
    foolish dandies who loved to throw their
    money away in melodramatic style, Lucas
    never allowed himself to act out of either
    exuberance, false pride, or desperation.
    When one's luck was running poorly,
    one simply quit the table and waited for
    another time and place. Lucas had always
    found another time and place.
    But as successful as he was at the gaming
    tables, his uncle had been right; there was
    little chance of winning enough blunt to
    save stone vale. Lucas knew he could waste
    a lifetime attempting to accomplish that
    feat. The lands and people of stone vale
    could not wait that long.
    It did not, however, take a lifetime's
    winnings to keep up appearances here
    in London. If a man was very clever
    and watched his expenditures, he could
    survive from one night's winnings until
    the next. Polite Society might speculate
    upon, but it never openly inquired into,
    a man's financial situation as long as he
    had the appearance of wealth. Having the
    title and access to Jessica Atherton's social
    connections also helped.
    Lucas glanced over his shoulder at the
    expensive black curricle and the beautifully
    matched grays he had driven here this
    morning. His tiger was at the horses'
    heads, calming the high-spirited creatures
    and preparing to walk them until the
    master had finished his morning call.
    The entire rig had cost far more than
    Lucas had wanted to spend, but he had
    reluctantly laid out the necessary just as
    he had done at his tailor's. When a man
    went hunting for an heiress, he had to
    camouflage himself well; especially when
    said heiress was given to hiring Bow Street
    runners.
    Lady Nettleship's front door opened just
    as Lucas was mentally running through the
    day's strategy one last time. Lucas handed
    the butler his card.
      The Earl of stone vale to see Lady
    Nettleship and her niece."
    The butler peered down a very long
    nose." I will see if Lady Nettleship is
    receiving this morning."
    For one grim moment Lucas wondered
    what he would do if Victoria had changed
    her mind about allowing him to pay a call
    this morning. It was entirely possible that
    in the clear light of day she had sensed
    danger.
    He should have resisted the hot urge that
    had driven him to kiss her last night. He
    had never intended to do so, not this early
    in the game. But for a short, perilous time
    there in the dark garden he had broken his
    own cardinal rule and allowed his emotions
    inn
    to dominate hiss actions. Lucas vowed he
    would be more ccautious in the future.
    The butler returned, and a moment later
    Lucas experienced relief which melted into
    triumph when he was shown into the
    stately drawing room. With the discipline
    of long practice, he made certain neither
    emotion was visible in his expression, but
    reminded himself that the first hurdle was
    behind him; he had been admitted into the
    home of his quarry.
    An instant later his triumph turned to
    irritation when he did not immediately
    spot Victoria in the sunny room. He
    realized he had not expected her to lose
    her nerve this morning. But the lady who
    had followed him fearlessly into that alley
    last night had apparently had a few second
    thoughts about meeting him in the light
    of day. Lucas forced himself to give his
    full attention to the striking middle-aged
    woman seated on the elegant sofa.
      Your servant, Lady Nettleship," he
    murmured as he bowed over the be ringed
    hand." I see now that Victoria's fine eyes
    are a family trademark."
      Very charming, my lord. Do sit down.
    We've been