Alters cards

'And I‘ll wager you, good sir, that none can beat this hand.‘

Sir Henry Rugglesthorpe sat back in his leather chair, a self-satisfied grin on his face. And why not? It was not as if this strange man could possibly beat him. He had three aces in his hand. The six of clubs matched the six of diamonds on the table - the wild card which automatically acted as his fourth ace. And the fifth he had passed back to the dealer at the start of his game. As everyone else had folded, the chances of his opponent having five of anything were non-existent and thus, confident, Sir Henry took the gamble.

'Is that so?‘ murmured the smiling newcomer opposite him as he placed his cards down on the green baize table with a slight theatrical flourish.

There was an audible gasp from the others grouped around the club table.

'You consider yourself to be... adequate at this game, don‘t you, Sir Henry?‘

Sir Henry stared at the fanned cards facing him. A six of hearts and four aces - the wild making it five. 'King of the tables, they say, good sir. King of the tables.‘

In his own hand were four cards - less than a minute ago, there had been three aces. Now, a three of clubs, the six, a jack of hearts and an eight of diamonds.

Useless.

Gritting his teeth he let the cards flop face down on to the table, his heart beating faster, his eyes widening. How had this happened?

Back at home, his wife would be doing her needlework. His daughter would be preparing for her coming-out ball. His son would be studying for his place (guaranteed, naturally) at Marlborough.

All three awaiting the return of their husband or father to the familial bosom for another night.

But tonight, if Sir Henry returned home, it would be as a broken man in every sense. No one else at the club actually knew the wager he and the stranger had undertaken. It was enough to bankrupt him - but Sir Henry‘s method was infallible. It always had been - that was how he had made his fortune. Bought his title. Lied and cheated his way through society. For no particular reason, a memory of last year‘s greatest triumph - dancing with his wife at King George‘s accession ball - flickered through his mind, but it vanished in an unfocused mental shrug.

How had the cards changed?

How had the stranger cheated?

***

Divided Loyalties, Chapter 2