He could not explain his hatred of Muldrow to his sister. Selena knew little of the manner of Beatrice’s death, and Hugh preferred that she remain blissfully ignorant. He felt certain that Muldrow had enticed Beatrice to the Manor on that day, not so much for love of the beautiful Beatrice, as to pay Hugh back for the past.

Hugh’s dislike of the man had begun long before his marriage, when they were at Oxford together. Muldrow, as befitted a near neighbour, had been included in Hugh’s card parties. One day his extreme good fortune at the table caught Hugh’s attention. He watched the play more closely. All was not as it should be. Muldrow shot his cuffs a little too often and his luck at those moments made it apparent that he had additional cards secreted up his sleeve.

“Muldrow,” Hugh had said, his voice dangerously quiet. “Your luck improves with every hand.” Muldrow looked up at him. Hugh stared hard at the man’s sleeve, one eyebrow raised.

Muldrow’s hooded brows had lowered. His face flushed an unpleasant shade of purple and his eyes flickered from side to side. “Oh. Can that be the time? I must be on my way.”

Hugh rose from his seat. “Surely not,” he drawled. “Why, young Mr. Dunsmore here has had an unfortunate evening of it. Surely you will remain and allow him to recoup some losses if he can.”

Muldrow heard the menace in Hugh’s voice and blinked. He smiled, but his eyes were narrow slits. “Perhaps I will remain for another hand or two. My appointment can surely wait a few moments.”

“Indeed.” Hugh hooked his boot into a chair. He pulled it across and sat close by Muldrow’s side. “Cut me out of this hand. I wish to observe such expert play at close quarters.”

Hugh’s friends glanced at each other, hearing the dangerous undertones in his voice. Muldrow had no alternative but to play on. Hugh, legs crossed, observed him closely. Strangely, Muldrow’s luck changed. Dunsmore, a young member of their set who could ill afford large losses at cards, recouped his stake and won an equal amount.

Hugh decided he had made his point. “I believe you needed to leave?” he remarked to Muldrow, his voice casual.

The man scrambled to his feet. “Er, yes. Best be off, don’t you know,” he muttered, making for the door.

The room remained deadly quiet until he left, but as the door closed, laughter followed him into the night. From that day, Mr. Muldrow had no place in Hugh’s circle of acquaintances.