Ellen smiled back at him, glanced to Long with an increasingly mischievous look, then said, “I’ll do it.”
Chapter Eighteen
The plans were set with lightning speed. Ellen was shocked that Westminster had agreed to the mad scheme of a high-stakes poker game, and even more shocked that Montrose accepted the invitation. She would have bet anything that Montrose would have seen the game as the trap it was and steered well clear of it. But he’d accepted, Westminster had made arrangements to host the gathering, and by Friday night, Ellen was standing in front of her mirror, turning this way and that, surveying the relatively staid gown that had been part of her purchases at John Lewis’s several weeks before.
Something wasn’t right, though. Ellen couldn’t put her finger on what it was. She bit her lip and glanced back to the pile of gowns on her bed. Perhaps she should select another one. Or perhaps the problem was that she hadn’t played cards since she’d arrived in London. She’d missed it, too. Poker wasn’t just something she did to make money and tease men who underestimated her, it was something that reminded her of her father, something she loved.
She wished her father were there to give her advice and to make her feel secure with her decisions.
With almost eerie timing, a knock sounded on her door. Ellen held her breath and half expected her father to walk in, but when the door opened, Lenore stepped into the room.
“Are you ready?” Lenore asked. “Mr. Rathborne-Paxton has just arrived to take you to Grosvenor House.”
“I think I’m ready,” Ellen said, blowing out a breath and smoothing her hands over her gown. It was another yellow one. She was beginning to hate yellow as a color for dresses.
Lenore pursed her lips and studied Ellen as she crossed the room to her. “You don’t look ready,” she said. “You don’t have that sparkle in your eyes that you always had before heading out to the Silver Dollar, or those times you entered tournaments in Denver.”
Ellen burst into a fond smile of remembrance. “Do you remember two years ago, when the final table came down to me, Miss Scarlett, and that man from New Orleans?”
Lenore laughed. “I remember Mr. Gottschalk complaining to the tournament organizers that he should be declared the winner because women had no place in poker.”
Ellen laughed. “Scarlett and I took him down in five hands.”
“And then the two of you spent the next hour battling it out for the prize,” Lenore said. “You won in the end too.”
“It was unheard of,” Ellen went on, turning back to the mirror to study her reflection. “All of the papers in Colorado and Wyoming reported on it. Scarlett and I were famous for about a month.”
She lost her smile. The woman staring back at her from the mirror was not the woman who had lorded it over the arrogant men whom she and Scarlett had outwitted and outplayed. The woman she saw now was washed out and defeated. She was the woman who had let London society walk all over her and convince her she wasn’t worth any time or effort.
“They’re never going to hear a story like that and think highly of me, are they,” she sighed, then turned to look at Lenore.
Lenore sent her a sympathetic look. “No, darling, they’re not.”
Ellen bit her lip and turned to stare at her reflection one last time. “That night in Denver was one of the happiest of my life. I truly enjoyed myself.” She paused, then said, “I want to feel that way again.”
A slow smile spread across Lenore’s face. “Then what are you waiting for?” she asked.
Ellen took a deep breath, made up her mind, and said, “Nothing. I’m not waiting for anything anymore.” She left the mirror and walked over to Lenore, turning her back so that Lenore could help her undo the buttons trapping her in the wretched yellow gown. “I’m going to do what makes me happy, what I’m good at. I don’t care if I end up in the scandal pages of some useless London newspaper tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to enjoy myself, and I’m going to do something not one of those English roses is capable of.”
“Playing a high-stakes poker game and winning?” Lenore asked with a smile as she helped Ellen to change.
Ellen grinned wickedly at her sister as she went to the bed and sorted through the dresses to find the one she wanted on the bottom. “No, I’m going to beat Montrose into submission and send the man packing, once and for all.”
She drew her favorite, bright blue gown from the bottom of the pile and started to dress.
“Good for you,” Lenore said, coming over to help her. “That’s the Elle I’ve been missing.”
Suddenly, everything felt right again. Ellen felt more like herself in the garish blue dress with its low-cut neckline and short sleeves. She donned a few of the sparkling jewels that she hadn’t dared to wear of late for fear that they would draw too much notice. And even though there wasn’t much time, she had Lenore restyle her hair from the staid twist at the back of her head to a much more elaborate and flowing pile of curls—a style that reminded her as much of the girls at Bonnie’s place than anything else.
She was rewarded for her choice of presentation the moment she skipped down the stairs to find Joseph waiting for her by the door. He glanced casually in her direction at first, then did a double-take. A broad, amorous smile spread across his handsome face.
“You look breathtaking,” he said, smiling even wider as she crossed to him to take his hands. He leaned in to kiss her cheek, then whispered in her ear, “I find myself suddenly not caring at all about Montrose and wanting to take you back upstairs.”
“Mr. Rathborne-Paxton!” Ellen pretended shock when honestly, she would have enjoyed going right back upstairs herself. “There will be time for that sort of wickedness later,” she went on, letting Joseph escort her to the door. “Right now, we must engage ourselves in the wickedness of playing cards and risking fortunes.”
“Indeed, we must,” Joseph said with a bright smile, taking her hand.
Unlike the night of the ball, it was relatively easy for Joseph’s carriage to take them to Grosvenor House. There was no line of carriages waiting outside and no queue of high society blocking them from walking right into the house.