A Most Lamentable Comedy Read Online Free PDF Page B

moved closer to our table so that all may see.
    We cut for who should deal, and although Congrevance picks the higher card, he bows towards me and indicates that I should be younger hand, with the privilege of dealing first. It’s most gentlemanly of him, indeed, as it gives me an advantage in the game, but I am not sure I trust him.
    So I shuffle and deal, and find myself possessed of a miserable hand.
    Congrevance, lounging opposite me, smiles, discards five cards and picks five new from the talon . Quite as I would expect. I do the same, hoping to replace my incoherent dozen cards with something better – but no, they are only incoherent in a different way, with a meagre pair of kings and a run of hearts in my favour.
    He raises an eyebrow, waiting for my declaration.
    Good heavens, the man is distraction itself, and it crosses my mind that I am being played as surely as his hand.
    Someone places a glass of wine at my side, and I take a sip, while reflecting that I have had a considerable amount to drink already, and this will not help my game. But it seems I am beyond help or luck. In fact, and to make short work of misery, I am trounced, defeated, trampled and, despite my initial advantage as younger hand, at the end of the partie some three hundred and eighteen points in debt.
    There is a slight smattering of applause. The fools. Where do they think they are, at the play? And I – I am not the heroine of a tragedy; rather, I am the clown in the farce who’s just landed on her backside. Damn them all.
    ‘Oh, well played, sir, well played indeed!’ Otterwell crows. ‘Not to worry, Lady Elmhurst, the luck will turn, you know.’
    ‘Another partie , Lady Elmhurst?’ Congrevance asks, as smooth as silk, as deadly as sin. He rises to his feet and stretches, and I look away, fearing I drool, even as humiliated as I am.
    I force a smile to my lips. ‘I regret not, sir.’
    Now that the entertainment is over, the others resume their leisurely progression from the room. A footman enters and snuffs the candles, but when he approaches the table, Congrevance gestures to him to leave us.
    ‘You owe me, madam.’
    ‘I regret I am at somewhat of a disadvantage, Mr Congrevance.’ A disadvantage puts it mildly, indeed. I, who have but a couple of guineas to my name, am now in debt to the tune of fifteen guineas and three shillings.
    The last person to leave the room hesitates, drawing his breath in sharply. I see it is Linsley, and shake my head. God knows he is in trouble enough with his wife after this afternoon’s blunders. He nods, bows and leaves the room, and Congrevance and I are left alone.
    A nearby clock strikes midnight as I unhook my earrings, and toss them on to the table. They land with a slight metallic sound, diamonds and sapphires winking in the candlelight; the last of my good jewels, a gift from Elmhurst, the pieces I swore I would never sell. ‘I trust these will satisfy my debt, sir.’ I add, in as careless a way as I can, ‘Until I return to London, that is.’
    ‘Of course.’ He turns the earrings over in his hand. ‘Very pretty, Lady Elmhurst, but not worth more than ten guineas, in my estimation.’
    hei"0em" width="27" align="justify">‘I believe you are wrong, sir.’
    He dangles the earrings between forefinger and thumb, eyes dark and wicked, and leans forward, his elbow on the table among the discarded cards.
    ‘I believe, Lady Elmhurst, we can come to an . . . arrangement.’
    ‘An arrangement?’ I try to sound offended, but fear my voice reveals only breathless anticipation. I rise in an attempt to regain my wounded dignity.
    ‘Yes, madam.’ He has taken one swift step, meeting me at the side of the table. ‘If you are willing.’
    My legs almost give way. ‘Why, sir, what can you mean?’
    He inclines his head towards mine, his voice low and caressing. ‘A kiss, madam, but one kiss, and honour will be satisfied.’

Mr Nicholas Congrevance

    M y behaviour alarms me. This is not