Free Bronwyn Scott by A Lady Risks All

Greer called out in friendly tones. Now that the braggart had been routed, they could get back to the business of fun. The crowd parted and a young man, younger than he, emerged. He was tall and sturdily built. His face was tanned, his eyes merry, shoulders broad and thick from hauling nets. A fisherman, a local. A few men clapped the young man on the shoulder and Greer surmised from the comments that the young man was something of a town favourite, newly married with a baby on the way. His name was Leander and he blushed ever so slightly and proudly when the men teased him about Ellie. ‘Finally let you out of the house, has she?’ they joked.
    Leander brushed off the comments. ‘Never mind them,’ he said good-naturedly to Greer. ‘They’re just jealous I’m married to the prettiest girl in town.’ Most definitely a town favourite, Greer thought as the men laughed.
    * * *
    And a decent player too, Greer amended a few games later. They’d played four games, each winning two and money exchanging hands on an equal basis. Lockhart was frowning in the crowd. Greer would have to step up his game. It would be too much for Leander. If Leander was smart, he’d recognise the superior skill and walk away. At this point, Leander wasn’t out any serious money and he could stop whenever he wanted.
    Conscience subdued momentarily, Greer took the next three games. Leander was getting frustrated. Greer hoped the young man would stop and call it a night. Instead Leander said, ‘Double or nothing on the next game.’ There were a few cautious murmurings from the men beside him, warning him to reconsider.
    ‘You played well, Leander, let it be,’ one man suggested with an arm about his shoulders, hoping to lead him away. But Leander was young and typically hotheaded where his pride was concerned.
    ‘Think about Ellie and the baby,’ another said. ‘You’ll need that money for the doctor later.’
    If it had been up to him, Greer would have put down the cue and walked away, claiming tiredness, but it wasn’t up to him. Lockhart was standing there, wanting him to go on and Leander would not back down. Between them, they’d taken away one choice, leaving Greer with only one other avenue of recourse. Three shots in, he scratched, potting the cue ball along with his own and forfeited the game, followed by what he hoped was a sincere show of disbelief.
    Greer put down the cue and handed the money over to a beaming Leander. ‘Go home to your wife,’ he said in low tones, and he was sure the men present would make that happen. Some of them clapped him on the back, as he made his way to the front. Others offered to buy him a drink, but he refused. Lockhart had gone on ahead and would be waiting outside. He wouldn’t be pleased and Greer needed to face him.
    * * *
    ‘You had him,’ Lockhart began as they walked back to the Millstream. ‘You were doing brilliantly. You ousted the braggart, showed yourself worthy of playing the local best, got the local favourite to come out and play, worked him up to where he offered double or nothing and then you let him go. What were you thinking?’
    ‘I was thinking he didn’t have the money to lose.’ Greer didn’t back down from his choice. ‘He’s a fisherman with a pregnant wife at home.’
    ‘Maybe.’ Lockhart shrugged in the darkness. ‘Perhaps they’re all in it together and that’s the story they tell outsiders.’
    Greer grimaced. He hadn’t thought of that, probably because it seemed a bit ludicrous. ‘I doubt it.’
    ‘Still, no one put a gun to his head,’ Lockhart argued.
    Greer passed him the original sum Lockhart had given him earlier that night. ‘What do you care? Your stake is intact and a little more. You didn’t lose anything tonight. My choice cost you nothing.’
    ‘Not yet.’ Lockhart sent him a dubious sidelong glance. ‘Lord save me from do-gooders.’ He took the money and tossed Greer a half-sovereign when they reached the entrance to the