Miss Ivy shuffled the cards, then dealt two for the player, two for the dealer.

Seb added the numbers up quickly in his head, but not as fast as Miss Ivy did. Impressive.

“Player wins,” she said, sliding a chip to join the bet.

“I can ask you, since your dealer wasn’t inclined to answer.” Seb tried his smile again, this time with much better results. He saw her eyes widen, and her throat move as she swallowed. If he were not a good card player, he would have grinned at her reaction. “How long have you been open?”

She tilted her head as she calculated. “Approximately six months.”

Ah. No wonder he hadn’t come here before. Six months ago was when his parents had died. And he hadn’t had time for pleasure in the time since. “And your clientele is . . . ?”

Her eyebrows drew together. “Why are you so interested, Mr. de Silva?” She frowned. “You’re not from Crockford’s, are you?”

Sebastian held his hands up in surrender. “No, I promise. I’m just interested.” He put his hands back down on the table and leaned forward, his voice taking a conspiratorial tone. “Besides which, I’d be a horrible spy if I were just asking the questions directly, wouldn’t I?” It felt so much more normal, and like himself, to be teasing a lady. And thank goodness he hadn’t lost his charm, after all.

Her expression eased, and she nodded. “Excellent point. Although perhaps you are a horrible spy.”

Seb chuckled. “What would a horrible spy be like, anyway?”

She laughed, her entire face expressing delight. He had to concentrate on keeping his expression neutral; her smile was nearly blinding. It wasn’t the sensual smile that ladies intent on seduction wore. It was wide, and sincere, and made him want to live up to its promise. To conjure the joy of the smile, to be worthy of all that brilliance.

And where did that idea come from?

The loss of a dukedom must have done something to his brain.

“Please share all your secrets so I might report them back to your rival,” she said, lowering her voice to sound more masculine.

“Tell me who your most profligate customers are so I can lure them away to my establishment,” he rejoined.

“And while you are at it, please indicate which of your employees are the best at their jobs. Purely for interest’s sake.”

They shared a smile for a brief moment.

“Well,” she said, smoothing her expression, though her eyes still danced in laughter, “since we have established you are not a spy, perhaps we should continue the play.”

“Yes, I would prefer to lose money rather than listen to you flirt,” Nash said in a dry tone.

She opened her mouth as though to respond, then snapped it shut again. Her cheeks got pink.