Free Liz Carlyle - [Lorimer Family & Clan Cameron 02] by My False Heart

Michael, Mr. Stokely having taken up a book of poetry instead. Much to Winnie Weyden’s consternation, the boys had persuaded Elliot into a rowdy game of loo played for ha’pennies. Despite such impecunious stakes and Elliot’s notorious cunning at the gaming tables, he soon found himself well on his way to being fleeced as a result of his impaired concentration.
    True to her mumbled explanation, Evangeline now sat stiffly upon the pianoforte bench beside Frederica at the opposite end of the vast drawing room. Carefully positioning himself at the card table in such a way that he might observe the pair, Elliot watched as Frederica performed with admirable skill for one so young. He could not help but notice, however, that the child stumbled frequently, and the cause was almost always Evangeline’s failure to turn the page in a timely fashion.
    She had been discomfited by his flirtation, that much was obvious. Why, Elliot asked himself, had he done such a heartless thing? Despite her age and demeanor, Evangeline was plainly unaccustomed to the attentions of an accomplished flirt, having instantly stammered and blushed at his intimations. What had he hoped to gain by such coarse behavior? Had he sunk so deep into dissolution that he took some pathetic pleasure in the discomfort of a gently bred woman? Such a thought disgusted him, and yet he knew that he had deliberately stood too close and implied too much, all the while reveling in his ability to disconcert her.
    It had been a test, he realized with a shock. Yes, a test of sorts. He’d wanted to see for himself what her response would be. All of the women Elliot knew, even those few who made a passing bid at respectability, were more than capable of rising to the challenge of an arrant scapegrace like himself. But Evangeline Stone, clearly, was not. Not yet.
    At last, the closing chords of Frederica’s sonata sounded amid her cousins’ gracious cries of “bravo” and “well done.” Evangeline quietly withdrew to a sofa by the window as Nicolette Stone laid quick claim to the pianoforte. Curled on a rug with the cats, Fritz the dog lay by the hearth where coals hissed warmly in defense against the insidious damp. Evangeline flipped open a book, and Mrs. Weyden sat, as she had done since dinner, sewing in an oversized armchair. Beside the fire, Mr. Stokely appeared to be very nearly asleep. Shyly approaching the card table, Frederica curled around Michael’s chair to peer at his hand. It was a scene of utter domestic harmony, an oasis of peace. And it brought with it a sense of comfort that even Elliot could not miss.
    As the cards continued to fall, Elliot began to relax; though he continued to observe Evangeline out of the corner of one eye. “I say, Roberts!” gloated Gus as Elliot’s next card fell. “Expected better from a real town gamester.” Energetically, the young man leaned forward to sweep the loo into his corner.
    “Oh, aye, that’s a whole quid you’ve taken ’im for, Gus,” added Theo, his mouth curling sarcastically as he dealt another hand. “No doubt we’ll be rich as nabobs any day now.”
    “I do not suppose, Mr. Weyden,” said Elliot dryly as the play resumed, “that this inadvertent hiatus in your Cambridge career had anything to do with your card skills, hmm?”
    Theo, a handsome lad who looked to be about sixteen, snorted disdainfully as he made his play. “He wishes!”
    Gus colored slightly. “Er—not exactly,” he replied, tugging at his cravat.
    Theo winked at Elliot conspiratorially. “Nothing so sophisticated as all that, sir! Gus ’n’ a vicar’s son got a touch bosky. Shinnied up an oak tree and flashed their bums at the vice chancellor’s old auntie!” At this remark, Elliot was simply beyond restraint. He burst into a sputter, which advanced rapidly into an undignified guffaw, immediately sending Michael and Theo into peels of hilarity. Across the room, Evangeline and Mr. Stokely turned to regard the four card