Fallen Angel Read Free Page B

opponent any advantage, but oddly enough, Ibbetson was discarding erratically and overlooking even the most obvious opportunities to increase his score.
    Could the man possibly be that inept a gambler? Given the high stakes he had suggested they play for, if Ibbetson were in truth so little skilled with cards, he would doubtless have been locked up in debtor’s prison long ago.
    Out of sheer perversity, Gabriel began to let his own game slide, but for every poor choice of discards he made, Ibbetson countered with a worse one. Gabriel won the first game easily, but he still had no idea why Ibbetson was trying so desperately to lose.
    It was not until halfway through the third game that Ibbetson revealed the true reason he had wanted Gabriel to win money off him. In a burst of false bonhomie, the little man said, “Do you know, Sherington, I have just had the most marvelous idea. We are having such a good time here, why don’t you come along to Ibbetson Hall with me for the holidays? I’m not having a large party down—just a few close friends. I’ll make sure you enjoy the company. Bound to be more convivial than spending a few weeks with your relatives. No offense, but they’re a stiff-rumped bunch of sourpusses, as you’ve undoubtedly discovered for yourself.”
    Gabriel had indeed discovered that, but at the mention of relatives it occurred to him that Ibbetson was also bound to have a relative or two lurking about at Ibbetson Hall. Casting his mind back to the stories he had heard since his return to England, he remembered someone saying that Ibbetson was cursed with not one, but four daughters of marriageable age. And if the gossip was correct, all four were roly-poly little butterballs like their father.
    Which meant that Ibbetson was undoubtedly attempting to lure Gabriel into a matrimonial trap by allowing him to think that he would be able to win vast sums at cards if he would but spend a few jovial weeks at Ibbetson Hall.
    “My dear Ibbetson,” Gabriel drawled, “if only you had asked me last week. But I am afraid I have already made my plans, and as much as your kind invitation tempts me, I fear I really cannot see any way they can be canceled at this late date. But please extend my regrets to your lovely wife and daughters.”
    Ibbetson looked morosely down at his cards. “Didn’t think it would work, but m’wife insisted I try. Told me you’d not been in England long enough to have heard about m’daughters.”
    “I heard,” Gabriel said simply.
    “Was sure you must have,” Ibbetson said. “They’re good girls, you know. Just a trifle on the plumpish side. They’ll not be best pleased when I show up without you.”
    He looked up expectantly, as if hoping Gabriel might still change his mind—might willingly offer himself as a sacrifice.
    “As much as I pity your plight, I fear I have not a single altruistic bone in my body,” Gabriel said, and Ibbetson looked even glummer.
    The game altered after that, and not with any great subtlety. Ibbetson’s discards became well thought out, and his play was smooth and skillful.
    Unfortunately for him, he was not quite the expert Gabriel was, and at the end of the third game, Ibbetson could not completely hide his disgruntlement that Gabriel had managed to take the bait and still avoid the trap.
     

 
    2
    Although outward ly o beying Gabriel’s orders not to mention Christmas, the servants were quick to show their disappro v al of him for refusing to fall in with his aunt’s wishes. His dinner that evening was burned, and when he retired for the night, he discovered the fire in his bedroom had—inadvertently, or so the maid claimed—been allowed to go out.
    In the merchant marines he had learned early on to endure worse hardships than charred meat and chilly quarters, so he chose not to make an issue of it, since that was obviously the purpose of the servants’ machinations.
    But the next morning he reached the end of his patience when Fitch,