"Why?" Miss Lake asked, with a lift of her brow. "Do you three make a habit of spiriting women off?"

"Only on Tuesdays and Fridays," Masters said. "Seeing as how it's Wednesday, you're safe."

"Unless you're wearing a blue garter, madam," Gabe quipped. "On Wednesdays, Masters and I have a great fondness for blue garters. Are your garters blue, Miss Lake?"

"Only on Mondays and Thursdays." She dealt thirteen cards apiece to the two of them, then put the rest aside as the stock, turning the top card faceup. "Sorry, gentlemen. I guess you'll have to spirit off some other woman."

"Miss Lake's garters are none of your concern," Jarret said in a warning tone. "I suggest you remember that, or I'll show you the door myself."

He caught Masters's gaze on him and stiffened. Masters was reading too much into this, d.a.m.n him, probably because Jarret was rarely seen protecting any woman but his sisters. For that matter, he was rarely seen with any respectable woman at all.

Ignoring his friend, Jarret concentrated on his hand, which was abysmal. If he didn't know better, he'd think she'd dealt from the bottom. But he could spot a cardsharp a mile away-and Miss Lake was no cardsharp.

"I wonder if this 'private wager' has anything to do with Mrs. Plumtree's ultimatum," Masters mused aloud.

"Ultimatum?" Miss Lake asked.

Jarret cursed Masters under his breath as he and Miss Lake began to play, taking cards from the stock to replace the ones played.

"Mrs. Plumtree informed her grandchildren that they must all marry before the end of next January, or she will cut them off," Masters explained. "Did you agree to marry Lord Jarret if he won, Miss Lake?"

"Certainly not," Miss Lake remarked.

She didn't have to sound so firm about it, for G.o.d's sake.

Masters's eyes gleamed with amus.e.m.e.nt. "Now that's a twist. Women generally fawn over our friend there. Pray tell us, what is it about Lord Jarret that you dislike?"

"I don't know him well enough to like or dislike him," she said primly. "Hence, marriage would be extremely premature."

"Like most women," Jarret said, "Miss Lake undoubtedly prefers a love match. She would never marry a man over a wager."

"How odd that you presume to know my opinions on the subject, sir, considering that we only just met this morning." She eyed him askance. "Perhaps you are the reader of minds, and not your friend there."

Cheeky wench. "You'd best hope I'm not." He laid down his jack of clubs. "Or you'll be losing this game-and this wager-in short order."

"I already know you aren't." She flashed him a smug smile as she topped his card with a king of clubs. "Because I've just won this hand."

Of course she had; no one could have won with his cards. But her luck couldn't last.

As he gathered up the cards and began to shuffle, Masters said, "Does this mean she's won everything?"

"It's the best two hands out of three, so no, she has not," Jarret said.

"And your wager really has nothing to do with Mrs. Plumtree's ultimatum?"

"If you'd given me the chance," Gabe said, "I would have told you it didn't. Jarret already talked his way out of that. Gran agreed to exempt him from it in exchange for running the brewery for a year. Then he gets to go back to being king of the tables again, without having to marry."

Jarret frowned. It suddenly sounded very irresponsible. Not that he cared. He didn't. Responsibility meant pain and loss. Better not to have it at all than to suffer with it.

"So running the brewery is just a lark for you," Miss Lake said, disapproval weighting her voice.

"Not a lark." He could feel her eyes on him as he examined his cards. "A temporary position. Getting the place in shape for when Gran returns, so to speak."

"But you have no vested interest in seeing the company succeed."

Her disparaging tone told him what she thought of that. His gaze locked with hers. "It's because I want it to succeed that your risky proposal doesn't appeal to me."

They began to play, and he took three tricks right off.

"What risky proposal?" Gabe asked.

Miss Lake arranged her cards. "My brother owns a brewery in Burton. We hope to join with your family's concern in a venture that will benefit both parties."

"Or so she claims," Jarret retorted.

"So this is a d.a.m.ned business wager?" Masters said. "G.o.d, that's boring. So if Miss Lake is playing for Jarret's cooperation in a venture, then what is Jarret playing for?"

"Her brother's brewery!" Gabe said. "That has to be it!"

"Don't be ridiculous," she retorted. "If I owned the brewery, I wouldn't need Lord Jarret's help. And I would certainly never wager it in some card game. What sort of fool does that?"

"You'd be surprised," Jarret said. "Some men will wager anything."

"Some women, as well." Masters eyed her speculatively.

"If it's not her brother's brewery she's offering, what else can it be?" Gabe asked. When Jarret cast him a quelling glance, he stiffened, then shot a glance at Miss Lake.

Her cheeks were the color of poppies. The woman was transparent as a sheet of gla.s.s. And Jarret loathed the idea of her character being speculated about among the men in the room.

"Miss Lake wagered her ring," Jarret lied.

She cast him a grateful glance. "It's very valuable. Worth a lot of money."

"Ah." Masters exchanged a telling look with Gabe. "A ring. Of course."

They both knew Jarret preferred cold, hard cash in his wagers. He never accepted jewelry as payment. And it was clear from how they eyed Miss Lake with new interest that they'd guessed what he was really willing to accept.

Jarret gritted his teeth. He should never have taken her wager. After some stern words, he should have escorted her back to wherever she was staying.

So why hadn't he?

Because he'd truly expected her to turn him down. Because the woman had an amazing power to annoy him. And because her earthy charms roused him as no woman ever had.

It was insane and could lead to no good. But before it did, he would have her in his bed. Just see if he didn't.

Gabe shot her an a.s.sessing look. "So, Miss Lake, did you come to London alone?"

"Of course not." She took a trick. "I came with my sister-in-law and my ... nephew."

Had he imagined it, or had she paused before the word "nephew"? The reason for that suddenly occurred to him. "How old is this nephew?"

She concentrated on her cards. "What has that to do with anything?"

"If he's supposed to be your male escort," Jarret said, "it has a great deal to do with it. What is he, five?"

She swallowed tellingly. "If you must know, he's twelve."

"Twelve!" Masters exclaimed. "My G.o.d, woman, you can't gallivant about the city with only a boy as a protector. How can your brother allow it?"

"Hugh is ill," she said. "He had no choice."

Jarret raised an eyebrow. "Did you give him any choice?"

She slapped a card on the table. "Not really."

Gabe gave a low whistle. "If you're not going to marry her, Jarret, then someone should. She needs a husband to keep her out of trouble."

"Believe me, I already suggested that," Jarret muttered.

"You did not!" Miss Lake said hotly. "You said I need a keeper. It's hardly the same thing. You're undoubtedly one of those men who believe that women are like pets, to be kept caged and only trotted out at parties."

"Honestly, Jarret," Masters chided, eyes twinkling, "you have such a poor opinion of the female s.e.x." He leaned close to Miss Lake. "I a.s.sure you, madam, that I would never imply such a thing to a lady."

Even as Jarret snorted, Miss Lake arched one delicate brow at Masters. "I suspect that would only be because you hope to turn the lady up sweet."

"She's got you there, Masters," Gabe joked. "Perhaps Miss Lake is a reader of minds."

Jarret took her trick. "She can't be, or she wouldn't presume to know my opinion about women." He glanced at her. "Apparently I'm not the only one here who a.s.sumes things based on only one day's acquaintance."

"My a.s.sumption isn't based on our acquaintance, sir," she shot back, "but on what you said. If you think a woman needs a keeper, then you think her incapable of keeping herself. It's downright insulting."

"I meant no insult. I was merely pointing out that a woman must behave differently in the city than in the country. And if she doesn't, she needs someone to look after her."

"The country! I live in Burton. We have nearly seven thousand inhabitants."

Everyone laughed.

When she scowled, Gabe said, "Forgive me, madam, but London has over a million inhabitants."

"I know that. But that doesn't make Burton the country, does it?"

"Perhaps by comparison-" Jarret began.

"I a.s.sure you, sir," she said tightly, "we have our share of vice and wickedness. The difference is only a matter of scale."

The wealth of bitterness in that remark gave him pause. Had she experienced such vice firsthand? Had some scoundrel taken advantage of her? And why did that possibility spark his temper?

"In any case," she went on, "I'm perfectly aware that a woman must be careful in London." She cast him an arch glance. "I certainly didn't set out to spend the evening with three unconscionable rogues who have the audacity to suggest that I need a husband, apparently to protect me from the likes of them."

Masters laughed. "She does have a point, Jarret."

"Don't encourage her," Jarret snapped.

Masters might be an unconscionable rogue, but he wasn't. He was a carefree rogue, so he didn't like being responsible for the reputation of the tart-tongued sprite sitting across from him. The one who'd blithely accepted the scandalous wager he shouldn't have made.

They finished the second hand, and to his vast annoyance it ended in a draw, both of them having won thirteen tricks. The next one ended the same.

Grudgingly, he acknowledged that she was a better player than he'd expected. Not that two-handed whist required much strategy, but one did have to keep on one's toes. She'd played some tricks expertly. He was impressed.

He was also annoyed, because he did not mean to lose tonight.

Picking up the hand she'd just dealt, he glanced at the top card of the stock to see that diamonds were trump. Ha. He'd see how she managed when the luck was on his side.

"So, Lord Jarret," she asked as she led her card, "what is your opinion about women?"

"Uh-oh," Masters said, eyes gleaming, "you're in for it now, my boy."

"Why is that?" Miss Lake asked.

Gabe laughed. "Because no man can answer that question to a woman's satisfaction. Any attempt to do so is fraught with peril."

"Mr. Pinter," she appealed to the runner, "surely you have an answer to the question."

Pinter got a panicky look on his face. "I beg to be excused from the discussion, Miss Lake. I have no opinion of women at all, I swear."

Jarret sloughed off a low card to her lead. What a lot of cowards. "I'm willing to answer." He thought of Gran and her meddling, not to mention his mother and her fateful act, and something dark welled up inside him. "Women are at their happiest when they're sowing havoc in the lives of everyone around them."

The table got very silent. Indeed, it seemed as if the entire tavern turned to stone, and every male eye in the room fixed on her.

To his surprise, she burst into laughter. "It appears that you and I have more in common than I thought. Because that is exactly my opinion of men."

"Is that so?" He let her win a few tricks, ridding himself of useless cards as they played their way through the stock. "And what hapless man is responsible for making you form such an opinion?"

"What makes you think it's only one man?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "What about you? Did some woman break your heart, setting your opinion about women for life?"

The stock was empty now. She played an ace, and he trumped it with a smile. He had enough diamonds in his hand to lead her out, and enough high cards to keep the lead for the rest of the tricks. This was one hand that wouldn't come to a draw. "No woman has ever broken my heart. And no woman ever will."

"That's because Jarret never lets a woman close enough even to chip off a piece of it," Gabe joked.

And why should he? They would try to change him, something he would never allow. His life had worked perfectly well for him until Gran had started her machinations. It would work well for him again once this year was up.

Granted, occasionally it was lonely, and he found himself tiring of the late nights and the sameness of the games. But he felt comfortable at the card table. It was all he knew, all he could really be sure of.

Jarret laid down one card after another, drawing out her trumps and then her other cards, enjoying how she paled as she realized she couldn't win this hand. "I should ask you the same question, Miss Lake. Did some man break your heart? Is that why you haven't married?"

"I haven't married, sir, because I see no benefit to it. And you and your friends aren't exactly convincing me otherwise."

"Well, you won't have to worry about us much longer." He took the last trick and smirked at her. "Because I just won this hand. We're even now, and I'm a lot closer to winning our wager."