The Black Duke's Prize
“Unmoved by the plea, Nicholas Varon, Duke of Sommesby, continued his push away from the gaming table and stood. "Sorry, gentlemen, but despite rumors to the contrary, occasionally even I need sleep." "Sleep has nothing to do with your taking your winnings and leaving." "No, I don't believe it does." His gray eyes holding DuPres's close-set brown ones; he plucked a chip out of the pile and flipped it at the other man without bothering to check its value. "My compliments." Beside him Thomas Elder, the Viscount of Sheresford, chuckled. "Quit complaining, DuPres. That chip's worth more than you won all evening." He scooped what remained of his evening's losses into his own hand. "Any of those for me?" he asked, gesturing at the substantial pile before Nicholas.
Stifling a yawn that wasn't entirely feigned, Nicholas summoned one of the clerks to cash him in. "Not a chance, Thomas," he retorted with a smile. "And I'm hoping this will serve to dissuade you from wasting your blunt on that bro...wn nag you've been eyeing." He straightened his cravat with its black onyx pin, then flicked an imaginary speck of dust off the sleeve of his black jacket.MoreLess
Stifling a yawn that wasn't entirely feigned, Nicholas summoned one of the clerks to cash him in. "Not a chance, Thomas," he retorted with a smile. "And I'm hoping this will serve to dissuade you from wasting your blunt on that bro...wn nag you've been eyeing." He straightened his cravat with its black onyx pin, then flicked an imaginary speck of dust off the sleeve of his black jacket.MoreLess
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