Chapter 111

"Your deal," the player to the right of Frang passed him the cards. He idly picked them up and started riffling the deck, not even shuffling, merely thinking of his position and the money he'd lost. Frang wasn't concerned for the money, he had sufficient funds on him to lose twice what he'd lost already, but he was concerned for his apparent lack of skill and the rapid improvement of McTavish's game.

"I see you're down substantially, Cameron. If it comes to it, I'd gladly take Isobel off your hands. Now you've fattened her up some, she looks good enough to fuck," Abner said, confidently. "She might be worth a few silver coins now."

Frang said nothing, still riffling the cards in his hands. He'd noticed something. The cards patterns on the back seemed to jump around as the cards fell through his fingers. He tried shuffling and noticed the same thing. The pattern on the back wasn't consistent. It wasn't off by much, but, it wasn't identical.

Isobel was concerned. Not only hadn't Frang responded to the insult, he hadn't responded to the jibe either, as if he might seriously be considering Abner's offer. She kept waiting for him to reply and she grew increasingly angry when he didn't. Damn, she knew this would happen. She stood up and slapped Frang across the face, shocking him out of his reverie.

"You bastard, I knew I should never have married another gambler. You let him insult me and you consider his fucking offer?"

"What?" He said, rubbing his cheek, failing to understand her anger, having barely heard what McTavish said.

"McTavish has offered to take me for a bet and you sit there like a lump as if you're seriously considering his offer." She stormed out of the room.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to speak to my wife." He set the cards down and followed her out of the room.

Frang caught up to her as she was about to walk out of the gambling establishment. He grabbed her arm and she turned to slap him again as she tried to shake him off.

Frang blocked her hand before it reached his face and he pulled her close to him so he could whisper in her ear.

"I'd never bet you in a card game, or any other gamble, my Love. I'm not McTavish and I care for you too deeply to ever risk you in such a way. My time with you has been the best of my life."

"Why did you not say anything then? Why did you let him think I might be for sale?" Isobel whispered back.

"I barely registered what he said. I noticed something funny about the cards and I think I'm being cheated. This is good. I think we can use this to our benefit. I'm going to get a glass of wine while I'm out here. I want you to come back inside with me as if you've calmed down a little but you're still angry. In a few minutes, when the situation presents, get angry again and hit me hard. It should be about money. I've got some more with me. When I pull it out, start arguing with me. When you hit me, I'm going to spill the wine on the cards."

"You want me to hit you?"

"Aye! Real hard; make it authentic. When you hit me, I'll knock over the wine and spill it on the cards. Then we'll get a new deck and see if Mr. McTavish's luck continues. Are you ready?"

"Why not," Isobel replied.

Frang got a large glass of red and walked back into the card room softly whispering to Isobel, as if still trying to convince her of something. He was saying nothing, but he wanted everyone to think he was still smoothing things out.

"Finally calm down your wife, Cameron. I can take her off your hands," McTavish said, laughing. "I know how to tame the likes of her."

Frang glared at him. "I'll thank you to shut the fuck up! You're not helping matters. I'll not warn you again."

McTavish shut up again. Isobel kept a scowl on her face but sat down as well.

"Are you going to deal the cards then," the player to Frang's left said. Frang didn't know his name, he'd only played a couple times before.

"Certainly." Frang shuffled a couple more times and started dealing the cards. Isobel watched patiently, waiting for a signal she knew would come. Game play started and the betting started. Frang didn't have a lot of coins in front of him. It didn't take long for him to have none.

"You can put up your property," McTavish said. "I'd be happy to take it back."

"I don't have to do that," Frang said. "I have a lot more money," and he pulled another small pouch out of his sporran.

Isobel said, "I can't believe you. You've already lost every bit of money from our sales this morning. You're going to risk our winter funds, too. Why not quit? Why must you keep gambling?"

Frang set his glass down close to the balance of the deck and two of the hands. "I'll win it all back," Frang said. "Don't worry, Isobel. This is a man's business. I don't expect you to understand. Just keep quiet and mind your place."

Isobel didn't know why he said what he did. She'd caught the signal easy enough. Maybe he wanted to ensure she would hit him hard enough. God only knew she was ready to clock him now. She stood up and slapped him hard. It was like a gunshot in the enclosed space and Frang fell over, toppling his wine glass into the deck and the two closer hands. It couldn't have been better executed. Isobel stormed out of the room, barely suppressing a laugh. Frang wanted it to be real; he got his wish. They heard the door slam as she left.

"You're not going to go after her are you?" McTavish asked. "We're gambling here."

"Nay, she'll cool down after I win my money back. Let's get back to the game." He glanced down at the table. "Damn, spilled my drink all over the cards. I'll ask the proprietor for another deck."

"Why not continue using these?" McTavish said.

"Some are too wet to hold upright and we'll soon be able to tell who holds what cards from the wine stains on them. We definitely require a new deck."

"He's right, McTavish." One of the other gamblers said, "These are ruined. We need another deck and a new tablecloth. I'm already out. Finish playing the hand while I get new cards."

McTavish was somewhat worried. This was the only deck of marked cards he'd brought with him. The practice deck was worn and even if they weren't, if he tried to introduce a new deck, his fraud might be discovered. But he was feeling invincible. He had a large stack of money in front of him now, most of it belonging to the other gamblers, and he'd always believed himself a moderately good card player. Surely he could hold his own with the pile in front of him.

"Aye, get the cards. Finish the hand, Cameron," McTavish agreed, his ego getting the better of him.

Frang finished the hand, McTavish winning again. When Frang gathered the ruined cards, he set them aside, hoping to take them and study them more closely after they were finished.

"I think I'll skip the wine," Frang said, rubbing his jaw, "in case the wife should come back. She's stronger than she looks," drawing laughs from everyone.