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thing a person can do is to surrender.” She set off upstairs after John, leaving Mary alone.
    I did surrender, last night and it earned me nothing. She couldn’t do it again.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
     
     
     
    Charles tossed aside his cards as Captain Mercer laid down a queen then pulled Charles’s coins towards him. Charles cursed both his luck, and Mary.
    “Tell me, Captain Beven, what are you doing back here?” Captain Mercer asked as he stacked his winnings in front of him. This early in the day, it was just the two of them in the gaming room. “I thought you’d found your bliss with your woman.”
    “She wasn’t as enamored of me as I was of her.” No matter what Charles did, she’d never view him as more than a charlatan trying to use her for his own means. He’d been a fool to let his fantasies about her guide him and blind him to the reality they were not meant to be together.
    “Nonsense, she’s simply not used to you being back. Same with my wife. I go away and she manages everything. Then I come home and want a say in things and we have a row. Of course the making up is quite pleasant,” he sniggered as he gathered up the played cards. “After a while we settle in. Yours will eventually adjust to you too.”
    “I wish I had your optimism.” He’d forfeited his along with his wager. Despite the bitterness burning him, he couldn’t completely condemn Mary. He understood her desire to see John set up as his own man. More than once during a long march when his tongue had been swollen with thirst, he’d wished for the means to support himself. It wasn’t to be for either of them. She could pawn every stick of furniture in the place and it still wouldn’t raise enough money. With her refusing him, he couldn’t sell his commission. He’d have to live off of his captain’s pay, and once the pub was gone, use it to keep Mary and their son from starving. He wasn’t about to turn his back on them even if she had accused him of being a cheat.
    “It isn’t optimism but experience,” Captain Mercer continued as he handed Charles the deck to shuffle. “Whatever issues you’re having you’ll overcome them but it takes time, like learning to sleep again without constantly keeping an eye open for the enemy or thinking the maid coming in to light the fire is going to bayonet you.”
    Charles tapped the deck into a neat rectangle, considering Captain Mercer’s advice. He was right. A soldier’s fears from battle could haunt him for a long time after he’d left the field, making him act in ways he never would have done before he’d enlisted. Mary’s fear of being betrayed by those closest to her ruled her in a similar way. If he and Mary had enjoyed more time together, he might have helped her to overcome her old experiences and regain her faith in those closest to her, including him, but it wasn’t to be.
    Charles dealt then set the deck in the middle, trying not to frown at his poor hand as he tossed his money into the center of the table.
    Captain Mercer picked up a coin from one of his stacks and held it up in front of his face. “It’s hardly worth the effort throwing in the pence. If the club would let us play for higher stakes a man could really have some fun.”
    “Or lose it all,” Charles muttered.
    “Some of us can afford to lose more than a shilling.” Captain Mercer tossed the coin down to clink against Charles’.
    Charles examined his friend over the top of his cards, intrigued by the comment. “Is there a real demand among some of the members for higher stakes games?”
    “For an honest place with an honest officer to act as the bank? You’re damn right there is.” Captain Mercer thumped the table, making his stack of coins slide across the green baize.
    Charles stared at his friend and the idea hit him like a cannon blast. He tossed down his cards and rose.
    “Not giving up already, are you Captain Beven?”
    “Not at all.” He’d just discovered the solution to his and