“The patterer—that’s what you call the person who manages it because he talks the entire time—has three cups. He lets you see him put a pea or a ball or some other small object beneath one of the cups, then he starts moving them around quickly, talking, talking, and when he stops, he wagers an amount that you can’t correctly identify where the pea is. You guess correctly, he pays you. You guess wrong, you pay him. Not a lot, usually. Threepence, sixpence. Depends on the crowd, what it looks like they can afford.”

“And you always guessed correctly where the pea was.”

That grin again that did funny things to her chest, made it tighten until it was difficult to breathe. “I was the patterer and always knew exactly where the pea was. Right in the palm of my hand. So no matter which cup they picked, they were wrong. As I was lifting the cup under which the pea was supposedly hidden, I would slip it into place. ‘Sorry, mate, here it is,’ I’d say and collect the winnings.”

“You cheated.” She was horrified at the thought, even more horrified that she was impressed with his strategy and quick sleight of hand.

He chuckled darkly. “Of course I did.”

“That’s how you made enough money to finance your business? On ill-gotten gains?”

She seemed to be amusing him because his smile got even broader. “No. I had this rickety little table with one leg in its center that I carried around with me, so I was always on the move, going from one place to another. Had my three cups, had my pea. One day a crowd had gathered. This bloke comes up, dressed all fancy. Red brocade waistcoat. I remember that the most, being impressed by the waistcoat and judging him on it. I was eleven. Had been doing my trick quite successfully for a while, was full of myself. Decided this toff had money. I was going to take him for a guinea. I laid out my terms, and he agreed to them.

“So I went through my little routine. Showed him the pea going under the cup, palmed the pea, shuffled the cups fast, egging him on, ‘Where’s the pea? Where’s the pea?’ I stop. ‘Where do you think it is, guv?’ I fairly crowed. He lifted a cup, and damned if there wasn’t a pea beneath it.”

She released a quick burst of laughter, taken off guard by the profanity he voiced so casually in her presence—no one ever used foul language in her vicinity—and the self-mocking look he gave her, as though he understood he deserved getting caught in his arrogance. “He was a swindler as well?”