Page 96 of A Scot on the Rocks

He said it as though buying her something beautiful required no explanation at all. Olivia smoothed her hand over the soft wool of the cloak, feeling the weight of his kindness far more keenly than the weight of the garment, and found herself unable to produce the joke she’d meant to make.

“Thank you,” she said instead.

Jamie looked pleased, then plainly uncomfortable with being thanked, and asked Mistress Kerr whether the sleeves could be finished tomorrow as well.

She said they could, provided he stopped distracting the customer.

They left and went to the inn for something hot to eat. One penny, that was all Olivia had to her name, not nearly enough for the dresses, stockings, gloves, and chemises. She was considering whether to ask Jamie to add it to what she was earning for her passage when she noticed a cribbage board on a table near the window.

Three sailors watched a younger gentleman in a finely cut coat count his winnings. His wig was powdered despite the damp, his cuffs were clean, and his expression suggested he considered the harbor and the inn disgusting.

“Another game?” the gentleman asked, tapping the board. “Unless no one cares to risk his money against a superior player.”

Olivia stopped walking as Jamie followed her gaze. “Lass.”

“What?”

“I ken that look.”

She went over to the table. “Are you looking for another opponent?”

The gentleman looked her up and down. “Madam, do you play?”

“A little.”

Jamie made a noise behind her that she wisely ignored. Grandma Bennett had taught her cribbage when Olivia was eight, claiming that a child who could count fifteen and thirty-one without thinking would never be cheated by a man who thought he was clever. They’d played behind the pub bar through snowstorms, baseball games, and every slow Tuesday Olivia could remember.

The gentleman introduced himself as Lord Crawley, a minor nobleman who was apparently important enough to announce his title to strangers. He agreed to a modest first stake which Jamie gave her, perhaps expecting to be gallant while taking her coins. Olivia let him win a hand, won the next two, and listened while he explained the game to her with increasing confidence and decreasing accuracy, just like men from her own time.

“You’re very fortunate, madam,” he said after she pegged the last point of the game.

“I am,” Olivia agreed, accepting her winnings.

The sailors were grinning though Crawley didn’t appear to notice.

He doubled the stake and Olivia obliged. By the time he’d lost again, he’d begun blaming the poor light, the board, and a passing sailor who’d coughed at an unfortunate moment. She ought to have walked away then, but he looked at the coins in front of her and gave a thin smile.

“One last game. My purse against everything you’ve won. Unless the lady has had her fill of luck.”

Olivia glanced at Jamie. He wasn’t smiling now, though his expression told her plainly that the choice was hers. She counted the coins she’d won, decided she could afford to lose them, and sat down.

Crawley played aggressively. He counted too quickly when it suited him, reached for points he hadn’t earned, and looked affronted when Olivia corrected him. Around the table the sailors stopped pretending they weren’t watching. She knew better than to get distracted by a man’s manners. Grandma had dealt with too many customers who smiled while cheating to let her granddaughter forget that lesson.

On the final deal, Lord Crawley laid down his cards with the satisfaction of a man certain of victory. Olivia counted hers carefully, pegged the last points, and sat back.

“I believe that’s game.”

Silence held for one delicious second. Then one of the sailors laughed so hard he nearly fell off his stool.

The nobleman stared at the board, counted again, and pushed a heavy leather purse across the table. “Extraordinary fortune,” he said stiffly.

“My grandmother always said it was important to practice.”

Jamie had to turn away, but she saw his shoulders move.

Outside, Olivia opened the purse far enough to see silver and gold among the smaller coins. It was considerably more than she’d expected, enough to pay for the gowns, settle what she owed Jamie for staking her, and still leave a handsome sum.

She returned to Mistress Kerr’s shop before the woman could put away her measuring tape. After paying for the gowns, chemises, and stockings, Olivia selected a pair of fine brown leather riding gloves. Jamie’s current pair had been mended at the fingertips so often that she was surprised he could still get his hands into them.