Free Gamble With Hearts by Hilary Gilman Page A

but, like most young bloods, they voted such affairs dull work and had left as soon as courtesy permitted. Captain Osborne and Fritz were already deep in play at the Faro table and, judging by the expression on Lord Fitzroy's amiable countenance, he, at least, was having a thin time of it.
    ‘I say Charles, come over here and b-bring me some g-good luck won't you? The d-dashed cards have b-been running against me all night!’
    Good-naturedly, the Viscount strolled over to take up his position behind Fitz's chair, and as the night was still young, he was quite soon persuaded to take a hand himself. He had already consumed a considerable amount of champagne that night which, combined with a bumper or two of hot punch, had produced a pleasantly lightheaded effect. Now, as it was clearly impossible to play Faro with a dry throat, he ordered a bottle of Watier's excellent brandy and settled down to make a night of it. Although he seldom appeared the worse for drink, there was a reckless look in his merry blue eyes as he tossed rouleau after rouleau onto the green baize of the table.
    By three that morning most of the players had cashed in their winnings and were beginning to think about taking their leave. The Viscount, however, showed no disposition to do so and was eagerly enjoining Captain Osborne to stay for a friendly game of piquet, when a slight disturbance at the door caught his attention. The waiters appeared to be trying to prevent a gentleman from entering the club, but as he was a large and powerful man they were having very little success.
    ‘Damn you, let me be! How dare you try to turn me out, you damn fools! Don't you know who I am?’
    ‘Yes, Farnley. They know,’ Carlington broke in, strolling over to the doorway and surveying the scene rather grimly. ‘They have orders from Ruthin not to admit you, however!’ Farnley sneered unpleasantly, ‘Still counting on the noble Marquis to fight your battles for you, eh! When are you going to face me yourself, my Lord Viscount? Or don't you dare?’
    ‘Call me a coward to my face, would you!’ shouted the Viscount furiously. ‘I'll meet you, Farnley, where and when you will!’
    ‘This morning, then, my Lord Carlington. Shall we say Islington Green at six?
    ‘Certainly,’ responded the Viscount curtly. ‘Who will you have, sir?’
    Farnley glanced around the room, well aware that most of the assembled men believed, with the Viscount, that he had cheated. To his surprise, however, one man did step forward, saying bluffly: ‘I don't know the rights and wrongs of this affair, but without seconds they can't meet, so I don't mind acting for this gentleman. My name is Dugdale, sir, Major Dugdale, at your service.’
    Farnley bowed. ‘Thank you, Major, I accept your offer. Name your own friends, Carlington!’
    ‘Ricky, Fitz!’ called the Viscount over his shoulder.
    Both men stepped forward at once, but they looked very grave.
    ‘Look here, Charles. I know you want to fight the fellow and I d-don't blame you, b-but you've b-been up half the night. Anyone can see Farnley is sober as a d-dashed judge. D-don't d-do it Charles. Not now!’
    ‘I am not prepared to await his lordship's convenience. Either he fights me this morning or I call all these gentlemen to witness that he backed out of a fair fight.’
    ‘Damn you, I don't draw back. Fitz, be quiet and get me some coffee, for the Lord's sake!’
    ‘At six then, Carlington?’
    ‘At six, Farnley. Believe me, I am looking forward to it.’ As Farnley departed with Major Dugdale, who was obviously enjoying himself prodigiously, another gentleman, who had entered the club while the altercation was in progress, now stepped forward.
    ‘Well, Charles, my boy, it seems that I have arrived in London at an inconvenient moment.’
    ‘Uncle Oliver! You here?'' exclaimed Carlington in some surprise.
    ‘As you see. I have tired of rural tranquillity for the time being. I foresee a more exciting time than I had