"Well, you have found me out," she confessed eagerly now. "I suppose gambling is in my blood. Runs in the farmly. All, well, 'Tis for the best that you stopped me, I suppose Let's go." Grabbinghis arm, she urged him toward the mouth of the alley, eager to escape the fetid atmosphere.
"Just a moment." Radcliffe turned on her grimly and held out his hand.
"What?" She glanced warily from his hand to his face and back.
"The money."
"Oh." Her lips twisted with displeasure. "There is no need for that. I will not gamble it away now."
"The money, Charles," he repeated firmly and Charlie shifted impatiently.
"It is mine, Radcliffe."
"Yours and Beth's. Were you the only one involved, I would let you gamble the coins away. But they are yours and Elizabeth's. Now, give them to me."
Her teeth ground together in frustration. "I shall give them to Beth."
"I shall give them to Beth." He pushed his hand out until it nearly touched her bound and vested chest.
Charlie glared at him resentfully, but dropped the sack of coins into his hand.
"There. Can we go now?"
"Not quite," he announced calmly, bringing her to a halt when she would have whirled on her heel and stormed out of the alley. Reaching into the sack, Radcliffe retrieved a couple of coins and handed them to Charles, then stowed die sack in his pocket.
"What are these for?" she asked dryly.
"For you to use in the gaming hall. Since you are so determined to go, I shall take you. But."
he added when her eyes widened in surprise, "that is all you shall play with.
Once those are lost, you are done. I only hope this will teach you what a foolish venture gambling really is and dissuade you from frittering your inheritance away in such a manner."
Charlie gaped at him as he turned to leave the alley, then hurried after him.
"You are taking me to a gaming hall?"
"Much against my better judgment, aye."
Charlie sighed at this news. She had failed to pay the blackmailer, so still had that to worry about. Worse yet, Radcliffe had confiscated the payoff and she would have to replace it. Obviously, Mr. Silverpot could not be trusted to keep his mouth shut, so they would have to find another jeweler. Which was risky. The new jeweler could rob them blind. On top of that, she had been tense and anxious since receiving the blackmailer's letter, then terrified and nervous tonight on her escapade, and simply wasn't in the mood for a gaming hall tonight.
But she could hardly say all that and did not wish to make Radcliffe suspicious, so she would have to humor him and go.
Radcliffe paused suddenly and Charlie glanced up to see that they had retraced her route along the block and now stood at the entrance to the hall. Their way was blocked by a rather large, bald, muscular looking man. Arms crossed, he was shaking his head at a tall woman in rather poor quality but clean, plain clothes who stood before him, holding hands with a small boy on one side and a young girl on the other. "Yer not gettin' in, I tell ye."
"But" the woman began desperately, pausing when she realized that he was no longer paying attention and was glancing from Radcliffe to Charles.
"Evenin', me lords," lie murmured, opening the door, then moved the woman and her children aside not ungently to clear the path for them. "In ye go and good luck to ye."
Radcliffe nodded and strode inside. Charlie, dismayed that the woman would even consider taking her children into such a place, followed more slowly, her gaze taking in the tear-stained face of the woman, along with the exhausted and hungry expressions of the children. They should have been home in bed, not standing outside a gambling den while their mother begged for entrance.
Gambling was truly a sickness, she thought grimly as the doorman firmly shut the door behind them. And one she did not wish to acquire.
Sighing with sudden depression, she turned to peer at the room she now stood in.
It was brightly lit. Candles and lanterns sat on every surface, the smoke rising from them to join the smoke from the cigars and pipes at least half of the patrons had clamped between their teeth. The combination created a solid cloud that hovered at ceiling-level.
"Why is it so bright in here?" she asked with dismay, peering about at the gamblers and garishly dressed women in the room.
"To reduce the chance of cheating."
"Oh." Lifting a hand, she fanned her face briefly. It was at least twenty degrees hotter in here than it had been outside. Between the smoke, candle flames, and heat, she decided she now knew why some called these establishments gaming hells.
"Come." Radcliffe moved farther into the room and Charlie followed with a grimace. Truly, she would rather have turned around and left. Between her uncle and the little scene at the door, she had been cured of any desire to gamble, and she had seen enough to satisfy any curiosity she may have had. The gamblers seemed to be made up of two types of men, those who played their games with indifference, and those who hovered with a sort of desperation at the tables.
There was only one sort of woman present: cheap, made-up, there to coax winners to make larger bets. Not one bothered to comfort the losers.
"Shall we try 'Laugh and Lie Down' first, or 'Noddy'?"
Charlie wrinkled her nose at the mention of the card games. Then, spotting a table where several gentlemen were playing dice, she drew his attention to it.
"I think I would prefer that game."
"Hazard?" When she nodded, he led hersilently to the table.
Hazard appeared a relatively simple game. The man who held the two dice threw them, and lost or took another roll depending on the results. It appeared that anything under five or over nine on the first roll made you a loser, whereas a five to nine let you roll again. If you were fortunate enough to roll the same sum once more, you won outright; if not, depending on what you did roll, you either lost, won, or were able to roll yet again. Once she'd gathered all that, Charlie turned her attention to the players.
The fellow presently controlling the dice played with an air of bored unconcern.
That, combined with his expensive clothes and the jeweled baubles he wore, told her that this was all just entertainment to him and that the king's ransom in coins he wasthrowing away meant nothing. His supercilious smile as he paid out his losses and handed the dice to the man on his left spoke to the fact that he knew the same was not true for that man.
Charlie felt her teeth clench in offense for the new caster as he accepted the dice. Not that he seemed to even notice the other gambler's slight. Tall and thin to the point of emaciation, he wiped sweaty palms on his frock coat before taking the dice. His concentration was intense, his expression desperate as he clutched the small cubes tightly to his chest and bowed his head. After moving his lips in apparent prayer, he cast them on the table, almost sagging with relief when he rolled a nine.
A hopeful smile touched his lips as he accepted the comments of the others around the table and listened to them lay their bets, then he picked up the dice again. Tension suddenly gripping him again, he repeated the earlier ritual.
This time his prayer went unanswered. His second roll came up a three.
Shoulders slumping, he paid out to those around the table who had bet, then held the dice out to the man on his left.
His loss, however, did not stop his gaming, Charlie saw with a frown a moment later as the man laid a bet on the caster following him. Disgust claiming her briefly, she watched the new caster roll. Like the first man, this one could obviously afford to lose. Short, tubby, and with more hair on his chin than on his head, he wore a doublet made from a cloth woven with gold. Jewels flashed on his fingers. He tumbled the dice with a certain flair, then took the time to slide a coin down the top of the tall, brassy woman on his left as he kissed her, turning to do the same to the dark-haired woman on his right before taking up the dice again. He had quite a long winning streak. Charlie felt sure his lips must be sore from so much kissing by the time he lost and leaned past the brunette to offer the dice to Charlie.
She stared at the dice as if he were offering her a live snake until Radcliffe nudged her impatiently, hissing, "Go ahead. You wanted to play this game."
Sighing, she accepted the dice, tossing them at once, flinching when they came up a four and two.
"Six," Radcliffe muttered, frowning with irritation.
Charlie supposed that he had hoped she would lose right away. She had been rather hoping for that as well, she admitted to herself wryly as the other players began placing their bets. Once they were finished, she rolled again. Two threes this time. Six again.
Charlie listened impatiently to the mingled crowing and groans of those around her as they settled up and laid new bets. Radcliffe was the only person besides herself who was silent, and he radiated displeasure. She had more than doubled her money. It meant a delay in being able to leave.
"Go ahead," he murmured impatiently as soon as the last bet was placed and Charlie tossed thedice.
"Nine," he muttered as the bettors broke into excited chatter. Charlie barely waited for them to finish placing their bets before casting again. "Five."
It meant she would roll again and she did.
"Five again!" Radcliffe's irritation was obviously mounting. She knew that he had brought her here to teach her a lesson. Winning was not part of that lesson.
Charlie felt Radcliffe sag beside her, then tense as she snatched up the dice and cast them again and again and again. Her pile of coins grew at an alarming rate. Her arm began to ache from the constant repetitiveness of the game.
And her attention began todrift to the other players again.
The young fellow's mask of indifference was starting to slip. Excitement was glittering in his eyes and giving his mouth a hard edge. Mr. Fat-and-Happy was raking in coins by the handful, dispensing a good portion of them down the blouses of his two companions. And Mr. Tall, Thin, and Desperate was starting to sweat as his coins dwindled. He had started out betting for Charlie, and had originally increased his small pile of coins, but then, several rolls ago, he had started to bet against her. Presumably he had decided to go with the odds.
Unfortunately, Charlie seemed to be immune to the odds.
"Charles!"
Glancing to Radcliffe, she saw that he was holding the dice out to her.
While she had been contemplating the other players, they had finished with their bets and were waiting impatiently for her to roll again.
Radcliffe frowned at her reprovingly, and as the dice flew through the air and tumbled end over end atop the table, he found himself clenching his hands and silently chanting in his head, lose, lose, lose. "Damn!"
Charlie snatched up the winning dice again.
"Just a moment." Radcliffe caught her arm to prevent the toss. "What are you doing?" He pointed to her bet. "You should keep some of that back. You have got a hefty sum there."
Charlie merely shrugged. "You play your way. I shall play mine."
Biting back anything else he would have said, Radcliffe watched the game play out, shaking his head with bewilderment as Charlie's winnings grew once again.
"Amazing," Radcliffe breathed, then nudged Charlie and stated the obvious. "You have won again. Shall I take half the money and"
"Leave it there," Charlie murmured distractedly, watching Mr.Tall-and-Desperate lay yet another bet against her. He was almost out of coins, she noticed unhappily. Why did he not simply quit?
"What?"
Sighing, she faced Radcliffe. "I said, leave it there."
"But you will lose all that money."
" 'Twas only a couple of coins."
"It was at the start. But now"he gestured toward the pile"it is almost as much money as you originally brought with you."
"But only a couple of coins are really mine," Charlie pointed out.
"But" Radcliffe began, then sighed. She knew that he had wanted her to lose and learn a lesson. Still, he obviously now felt uncomfortable at her losing such a large amount. The game rolled on anxiously, and Charlie noticed the tension stiffening Radcliffe's body and making him sag quietly against the table as she won again. She had won a small fortune. She was beginning to attract the attention of gamblers from other tables.
"Leave the money again?" Radcliffe asked, then glanced up when she gave no answer. She'd hardly been paying attention. "Charles?"
Her answer was to toss the dice again, her gaze fixed on Mr.
Tall-and-Desperate as she did. The way he sagged told her that she had won again. And he had lost another coin. He was down to only two coins. Surely he would quit now, she thought, and was mentally willing him to do so. Apparently, he was beyond reason, however. He placed one of his last two pence on the table and waited, hands clenched, face pale, sweat chipping down his forehead as the others laid their bets.
"Charles!"
"What?" Charlie turned around.
"Roll the damn dice!"
She blinked in surprise at Radcliffe. Something had changed. He was no longer stiff and disapproving. Excitement was gleaming in his eyes. Energy was rolling off of him in waves. Frowning, she cast the dice, noting the way he leaned against the table, hands grasping the edges tightly as he watched the dice tumbled end over end.
"Eleven!" he crowed jubilantly as the dice settled. "You won again!"
Charlie's gaze narrowed suspiciously as she caught a whiff of whiskey fumes as he grinned at her. "How much have you had to drink?"
Radcliffe blinked at her question, then glanced at The table, eyes widening at the four empty glasses that stood in a row. "Surely I didn't drink all of those," he began. "There was that redhead waitress and then" His gaze slid back to the table and the mountain of coins Charles had won. The question of how much he had drunk was apparently forgotten. "Hurry and roll again," he said.
Charlie shook her head and glanced toward Mr. Tall-and-Desperate as he fingered his last coin. Nay. Enough. Not again. Do not bet a"Damn!" she cursed with disgust as he pushed his last pence forward.