A Night Like This by Julia Quinn

A Night Like This Julia Quinn Prologue “Winstead, you bloody cheat!” Daniel Smythe-Smith blinked. He was a little bit drunk, but he thought someone had just accused him of cheating at cards. It had taken him a moment to be sure; he’d been the Earl of Winstead for barely a year, and he still sometimes forgot to turn when someone caled him by his title. But no, he was Winstead, or rather Winstead was he, and . . . His head did a bob and then a weave. What was it he had been thinking? Oh, right. “No,” he said slowly, still rather puzzled by the whole thing. He raised his hand to protest, because he was quite certain he hadn’t been cheating. In fact, after that last bottle of wine, it was possibly the only thing he was certain of. But he didn’t manage to say anything more. In fact, he was barely able to hop out of the way when the table came crashing toward him. The table? Holy hel, how drunk was he? Sure enough, the table was now sideways and the cards were on the floor, and Hugh Prentice was screaming at him like a lunatic. Hugh must be drunk, too. “I didn’t cheat,” Daniel said.
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