Free Ladies of Deception 03 - Betraying the Highwayman by Ginny Hartman

breath. The last thing he felt like dealing with after the long day he'd had was the repercussions of his father's gambling addiction. Looking around for and not spotting a tray to discard his glass of champagne on, he thrust the glass at Lord Campbell's chest instead. “Take this. I've suddenly realized there's something important I need to discuss with my father.” He huffed out of the ballroom and went straight to the place he knew he'd find his father, the gaming room.
    Though Devon was fraught with irritation directed at his father, he willed himself to remain calm, as he casually entered the room. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself, giving him a chance to observe his father's activities more fully. He gave a cursory glance around the room to see who all was in attendance, but it didn't take long for his eyes to fall on his father. There, in the far corner of the room sat his father, and strangely enough, he didn't resemble the sickly man he had bid goodbye to earlier that morning.
    He quickly declined an invitation to join Lord Thurston and Lord Richards in a game of whist. Instead he opted to pour himself a glass of brandy from the crystal decanter sitting on the side table, before making himself comfortable in a chair in the corner of the room opposite to where his father now sat. He leaned back comfortably in the chair and crossed an ankle over one thigh. He had a feeling it might be a long night.
    He shrewdly eyed his father’s opponent. Lord Grayson was a man a few years younger than his father. But while Lord Brattondale was rotund, Lord Grayson appeared almost emaciated. His gray, sunken eyes held no emotion, as he sat deathly still waiting for Lord Brattondale to make his next move. If it wasn't for the almost imperceptible twitching of the man's thin upper lip, he could have passed for a corpse. While Lord Grayson appeared as calm as a cat, Lord Brattondale was visibly anxious. His ruddy complexion was covered in a sheen of perspiration and one leg tapped nervously beneath the table, a clear sign of his discomfort.
    It was with great patience that Devon sat back and watched his father and Lord Grayson play round after round of faro. It was clear that his father was losing and that with every new round, he was desperately hoping to recoup some of his losses, all to no avail.
    As the hour grew late and the crowd in the room began to thin, Devon decided it was time to act. Slipping silently from the room so as to go undetected, he headed for his carriage. It was time to become Black Lightening.
    ***
    Lord Grayson happily pocketed his evening’s winnings, careful to keep his expression somber, though inside he felt giddy with relief. He wanted to laugh at Lord Brattondale's disbelief, but somehow he kept his amusement to himself long enough to bid the dejected earl goodnight and slip quietly out of the room.
    He headed down the hall to the place he had been directed to meet the man he was working for, the man he loathed more than anyone on this earth. He slipped quietly into the dark room, smelling the aroma of his cigar before he ever saw the man. Sitting in the corner of the dimly lit room, the man was resting casually in a winged back chair, one foot propped casually on his thigh.
    “You took long enough,” he accused Lord Grayson, as he stepped into view.
    “You're growing impatient. It takes time and skill to cheat someone out of large amounts of money without raising suspicion.”
    The man leaned forward and asked eagerly, “Did you get it all?”
    With a cool confidence bordering on conceit, Lord Grayson replied, “And some.”
    The man graced him with a rare smile, as he extended his hand for proof. Lord Grayson proudly handed all of his winnings over. He waited while the man counted every last bill as proof that Lord Grayson had been telling the truth.
    When the man was done, he stuffed the money into his pocket before saying, “I'm very pleased. You have exceeded my expectations, my