All Splendor had to do was win. Very simple, despite the fact a thick coat of sweat lay on her palms. Very simple until she'd stepped in here. Till he'd started these undermining tactics. Timed Chess? Naked pieces? Tossing that damnable watch of his at Chasens? Developing butter fingers when Chasens heaved it back? Now he even waved away the liveried footman, refusing a drink. Him? When he'd staggered into Boodle's that day, drunk as an empty bottle.

He'd also chosen this room ...