Letting out a huff, Scott seemed to stay suspicious. “Arthur’s told you then, has he? And you’re figuring out how to get me under your control. Well, I’m telling you now, it’s going to take a hell of a lot more to get me to follow you around like an obedient dog than-“
“I’m not trying to get you under my control, I assure you. I have only the best intentions at heart,” Francis assured him, feeling a wave of dizziness at how this was getting out of control. There really was something big going on here; Scott held as many secrets as Rhys, it appeared.
Scott looked from Francis to Rhys, as if trying to weigh the situation. He finally picked up his cards, murmuring, “Twopence. Match it or fold.”
Francis matched it, not really looking to give Scott a run for his money, and also only having a pair of kings. He wasn’t entirely sure how much twopence was worth, though he knew it wasn’t a large amount; English money was so hard to figure out, he suspected that accountants were a valuable commodity in the country.
“Fold.” Rhys continued to stare down at the blue and white table cloth, which had been exquisitely embroidered with the patterns of ships and flowers. He hadn’t met Scott’s eyes once, Francis was sure.
It was a little thrilling, knowing there were so many undercurrents here; Francis had to wonder if he was digging himself in deep, or simply finding out what he wanted to know.
Scott abruptly raised. “Ten pounds.”
Francis balked, putting down his cards. He simply couldn’t afford to throw around that much money, he was pretty sure. The last thing he needed was to have to ask Arthur for money. “Fold.”
Something of a grim smirk spread on Scott’s face, as he let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, not so clever now, hm?” Then his eyes turned dead serious, staring straight into Francis’s. “If you don’t have the money, don’t play the game.” Then he took the pence from the middle of table.
Jacob reappeared then, trying to fight a grin as he wiped at the crumbs around his mouth. He was clearly delighted, and it was such a difference from the atmosphere in the room. “Reporting back, sir!”
Suddenly, Scott was smiling, and now standing. “Good, Jacob. We’ll be heading down to the stable as soon as you get my coat.”
Jacob skittered off towards the armoire, and Scott turned towards Francis, smile gone. “I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this visit short.” He didn’t come out and say, ‘Get out!’, but the intent was clear.
It confused Francis, as good as he was at reading people. This whole visit had confused him. But he stood anyway, smiling back and saying, “Oh, it was about time we headed out anyhow. Tea and all that.”
Scott nodded, replying, “Aye, tea and all that.”
Francis headed for the door, and noticed, from the corner of his eye, that Rhys was following. He also didn’t miss the look he sent back at Scott; he wished he could see the returning look from Scott, because Rhys outright stared for a good couple seconds. Perhaps they were mouthing words to each other; perhaps he was frozen by a glare.
Whatever it was, when Francis went out the door, Rhys followed without a sound.
Gift 6c/?
“I’m not trying to get you under my control, I assure you. I have only the best intentions at heart,” Francis assured him, feeling a wave of dizziness at how this was getting out of control. There really was something big going on here; Scott held as many secrets as Rhys, it appeared.
Scott looked from Francis to Rhys, as if trying to weigh the situation. He finally picked up his cards, murmuring, “Twopence. Match it or fold.”
Francis matched it, not really looking to give Scott a run for his money, and also only having a pair of kings. He wasn’t entirely sure how much twopence was worth, though he knew it wasn’t a large amount; English money was so hard to figure out, he suspected that accountants were a valuable commodity in the country.
“Fold.” Rhys continued to stare down at the blue and white table cloth, which had been exquisitely embroidered with the patterns of ships and flowers. He hadn’t met Scott’s eyes once, Francis was sure.
It was a little thrilling, knowing there were so many undercurrents here; Francis had to wonder if he was digging himself in deep, or simply finding out what he wanted to know.
Scott abruptly raised. “Ten pounds.”
Francis balked, putting down his cards. He simply couldn’t afford to throw around that much money, he was pretty sure. The last thing he needed was to have to ask Arthur for money. “Fold.”
Something of a grim smirk spread on Scott’s face, as he let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, not so clever now, hm?” Then his eyes turned dead serious, staring straight into Francis’s. “If you don’t have the money, don’t play the game.” Then he took the pence from the middle of table.
Jacob reappeared then, trying to fight a grin as he wiped at the crumbs around his mouth. He was clearly delighted, and it was such a difference from the atmosphere in the room. “Reporting back, sir!”
Suddenly, Scott was smiling, and now standing. “Good, Jacob. We’ll be heading down to the stable as soon as you get my coat.”
Jacob skittered off towards the armoire, and Scott turned towards Francis, smile gone. “I’m afraid we’ll have to cut this visit short.” He didn’t come out and say, ‘Get out!’, but the intent was clear.
It confused Francis, as good as he was at reading people. This whole visit had confused him. But he stood anyway, smiling back and saying, “Oh, it was about time we headed out anyhow. Tea and all that.”
Scott nodded, replying, “Aye, tea and all that.”
Francis headed for the door, and noticed, from the corner of his eye, that Rhys was following. He also didn’t miss the look he sent back at Scott; he wished he could see the returning look from Scott, because Rhys outright stared for a good couple seconds. Perhaps they were mouthing words to each other; perhaps he was frozen by a glare.
Whatever it was, when Francis went out the door, Rhys followed without a sound.