"You cannot be serious."
Verity stared at her cousin, frozen between the desire to scream and the urge to laugh. When she had been brought from the parlor in which she and the female guests had been drinking sherry and making conversation to the one where Edward and his friends were drinking brandy and playing cards, she had suspected she might be there as a figure of fun, to demonstrate the charity that Edward Blackburn was performing in taking in his poor relation, allowing everyone to offer witticisms about her dress being out of date or the pitiful size of her dowry. She had suffered worse things in her life, and it was a small price to pay for a home and a place, however marginal, in society. The thought that something worse might await her had not even crossed her mind.
"Bad luck, I'm afraid. No use lamenting it now." Edward did not appear to be making a joke, even a cruel one. Verity cast her eyes about the assembled gentlemen in horror, looking for anyone who might be outraged or even startled by what was happening, but all she saw was amusement. No, there was more than just amusement- there was a hideous anticipation, a malevolent thrill being shared among the men. She was no mere figure of fun- far worse, she was a figure of theater.
"Please!" Verity exclaimed, looking from the guests to the servants. "You cannot allow this-"
Her protestations were cut off as a napkin was shoved into her open mouth, and another cloth tied about her lips to fully gag her. She jerked her head and caught a glimpse of the footman who had done it, and saw no more expression on his face than if he'd opened a door for company. Someone pushed her forward, and a cravat was wrapped around her wrists and tied in a clumsy knot. Verity kicked behind her, but her struggles were to no avail.
When at last she managed to at least flip herself over, she was staring into the dark eyes of Gabriel Talbot. Now her captor, soon to be her ruiner. Chestnut curls framed his sweet face- she'd been warned by friends not to be deceived by his disarming manor, and that he was far more likely to trifle with a girl than to marry her. How insufficient those warnings seemed now!
"The finest stake I've ever won in a game of Faro!" Gabriel said with an amiable smile. There was gentle laughter among the crowd as he kissed Verity over her gag, and a whistle or two when he hoisted her over his shoulder. In her last effort at escape, Verity sent a pleading look at her cousin, but he had already turned back to his friends and the next game of cards.
"There's a guest room at the top of the stairs," Edward said, "Markham will show you the way. And now, gentlemen, I've no more beautiful relations to wager, so I'm afraid we must play for somewhat lower stakes..."
Verity silently cursed him as she was carried off to her fate.