He met the old reprobate's gaze. Sharp as a lance, it rested heavily on him, as if Connor was trying to see into his soul. Martin raised his brows. Connor hesitated, then turned back to the cards. They were neck and neck, two points each, but the hands continued to turn without adding to either result, so evenly were they matched.

He dealt the next hand and they continued.

It was experience, in the end, that handed them the game. Even so, when the habitual counter in Martin's head alerted him to the revoke, he didn't immediately call it.

Why Connor would make such a mistake was difficult to see. Even had he been wilting, which he wasn't. Anyone could make a mistake, true enough-Martin was sure Connor would offer precisely those words if asked.

He waited until the last trick was played. He and Amanda had gained one point on the hand. Before Connor could sweep up the cards, Martin murmured, "If you'll turn up the last four tricks…?"

Connor glanced at him, then did. The revoke was instantly apparent. Connor stared at the cards, then blew out a breath. "Damn! My apologies."

Amanda blinked at the cards, then raised her eyes to Martin's face, a question in the blue.

He felt his lips curve. "We've won."

Her lips formed an O. She looked down at the cards with greater interest. With increasing delight.

The crowd watching from afar had dwindled, but all present now woke up, leaving the tables to learn of the outcome. Within minutes, an excited hum of conversation and exclamation lapped around them.

Against it, Connor, in quite gentlemanly vein, considering the circumstances, explained his fault to Amanda, and how the penalty had handed them the game and thus the rubber. Then, with an almost comical switch in his tone, he pushed back his chair and stood. "Well! That's that, then!"