High Stakes, Hidden Agendas

The cards whispered against the table as the dealer began the next round, but Sebastian barely glanced at them. His focus lingered on Thornton, watching the man preen under his own words, oblivious to the subtle game Sebastian played.

The other gentlemen at the table were already deep into their cups, though the night had barely begun. Most were too preoccupied with keeping pace at the card table to track the conversation unfolding beside them. Those who did catch pieces of it chuckled along with Thornton, nodding in drunken agreement. The sound twisted in Sebastian's gut, leaving behind a sour taste he couldn't quite swallow.

"And this lady," Sebastian began, carefully discarding a card, "was she eager for such a generous solution? Becoming a Countess is an honor I'm sure." His tone was light, almost conversational, as though the answer hardly mattered. 

Thornton chuckled darkly, tipping back his glass. "Eager? I doubt that's the word I'd use. Grateful, perhaps, once she realizes her good fortune. Frail thing, really. This is likely her only chance to enjoy what little life she has left in comfort."

Beneath the table, Amelia's nails lightly dug into Sebastian's forearm, though her expression remained serene to anyone watching. Sebastian shifted, letting his hand drift absently to her knee. His thumb traced patterns over the silk of her gown, a gesture as much for himself as for her.

"Gratitude can be quite persuasive," Sebastian remarked, his gaze flicking to Thornton's growing pile of chips. "Though I find genuine affection to be a far rarer prize."

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Affection was hardly something he considered essential to marriage, he'd long since dismissed the notion but somehow, the sentiment slipped free, unbidden and uncharacteristic. It left a strange feeling that he wasn't entirely sure how to shake.

Thornton shrugged. "Affection fades. Contracts hold. Wouldn't you agree?" 

Laughter rippled around the table, low and knowing. Even the dealer, whose eyes rarely strayed from the cards, smirked and shook his head.

Sebastian hummed noncommittally, sliding a few chips forward. His hand never left Amelia's knee, fingers curling slightly as if anchoring her in place.

"And the father," Sebastian pressed lightly, eyes on his cards but ears tuned to every nuance of Thornton's voice, "he agreed without protest?"

Thornton laughed outright, the sound bitter. "Fathers with debt rarely have the luxury of protest, especially if they are not still breathing. Desperation makes for excellent negotiation."

The air in Amelia's lungs tightened, and Sebastian felt her tense beneath his hand. His grip firmed, fingers splaying gently across her thigh beneath the drape of her gown. The movement, meant to ground her, sent a pulse of heat through both of them.

"I imagine," Sebastian said slowly, carefully disguising the edge in his voice, "a daughter's feelings on the matter are of little consequence."

Thornton gave a dismissive wave. "She'll come around. Once they see the advantages." He smirked. "Besides, if she doesn't, I find I have a way of… persuading."

Sebastian's jaw flexed, but he masked it with a careless chuckle. "Persuasion, indeed."

Amelia, silent but simmering, curled closer against him, her fingers tightening subtly around his wrist. Her body betrayed no outward reaction, but Sebastian could feel the tension coiling within her.

Thornton, still blissfully unaware, motioned to the dealer. "Let's raise the stakes, shall we?"

Sebastian smiled thinly, his hand lingering just a moment longer on Amelia's leg before he returned to his cards.

"Yes," he murmured, gaze flickering to Thornton. "Let's."