Gambling on a Scoundrel by Sheridan Jeane Read Free Book Online Page B

nothing.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    6 - Stumble
     
    Lucien stepped out of the dim interior of the pub and into the bright London sunlight. The brisk wind blowing along the Thames tried to snatch his top hat from his head, and he grabbed it just in time to keep it from tumbling down the dock.
    The stench of the Thames wasn't as bad this year as it had been in the past. Ever since the Great Stink in 1858, engineers had been working to improve London's sanitation. On a day like today, with gusting winds and a bright blue sky, the aroma of the river was quite tolerable.
    Lucien walked briskly along the river to clear his head as he reexamined the next steps in his plan. As he had expected, John still wanted his casino.
    Very much so.
    John hadn't even tried to disguise his interest. That was one of the things Lucien liked about him. He was straightforward and honest, and those were admirable qualities in a man. Now the question was, how could Lucien encourage John to move quickly? Lucien needed to propel his buyer toward a decisive action, and it would be best if he did it before news of his new title became common knowledge, because once that bit of information was out, people would assume he'd want to sell the casino and would feel free to offer him amounts well below its actual value. Of course, they'd do so in the guise of doing him a favor. As if gouging someone was ever a kindness.
    As he slowed his pace and strolled down the dock, Lucien swiftly sorted through his options. Once he included John's continued interest in owning the casino in his own calculations, Lucien was able to play out a number of scenarios before choosing the option that would best achieve his desired outcome.
    Hurrying this deal along shouldn't be a particularly difficult task. He simply needed to create a sense of urgency for his buyer, and the best way to do that would be to let him believe that he had competition.
    Even though that wasn't the case.
    Lucien had built Hamlin House from nothing, and selling it felt like cutting off his arm, but it was for the best if he wanted to ensure that it remained strong and had a solid future. So he would only sell it to the right man, and he'd already decided that John Snowden was that man.
    Content with his new plan of action, Lucien came to a stop and turned to walk back toward the pub. His coachman, Higgs, should be waiting somewhere nearby with his carriage.
    Lucien glanced over toward a group of people standing along the dock. They appeared to be waiting to greet the passengers from a steamer ship that had just arrived.
    The steerage passengers were hurrying off, hefting their baggage and keeping a sharp eye on their belongings. The docks were a favorite haunt for pickpockets. The area was riddled with grubby little children who'd slit your throat just as readily as they'd pick your pocket.
    Lucien wondered briefly about Miss Bliss and then paused. What had caused her to suddenly pop into his thoughts?
    He turned and looked again at the people on the docks. Yes. There she was. He must have recognized her without being aware of it. What a strange young woman. A journalist, moreover. How outrageous. But Millicent held her in high regard, so there must be quite a bit more to her than he'd seen so far.
    Lucien was about to continue on his way when he saw Miss Bliss step backward and stumble over some baggage.
    Lucien sprinted toward her. He was too far away to break her fall, and he winced when, even at this distance, he heard her head slam against the dock with a thwack. He wove between the dockworkers, porters, and passengers, trying not to hurt anyone as he rushed to Miss Bliss's side.
    An older woman was fussing over her, pulling Miss Bliss's skirts to rights so that her limbs would be hidden from view.
    "Miss? Miss? Oh, my goodness." The woman looked around, and her gaze landed on Lucien as he hurried toward them. "Oh, thank goodness! She fell, and I don't know what to do about her. Do you know