Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.
She had been in the game long enough to know that she should not have done this.
From the first moment she had been instructed in the art of the con, one rule had been stood above the others in all the lessons that had come and gone over the years. Under normal circumstances, she paid close heed to it, understanding that its importance was not at all idle and for those who lived the life, it was a discipline that had to be learnt to stay alive. Adhering to its instruction had made her reputation as a professional grifter and she had enjoyed a lengthy career, where most would have ended up in jail o r worse by the time they reached her age. Still, she knew that she had kept her years well for a woman with a grown son and a trail of victims across the nation. All of which who never knew how they had come to be taken until their pockets were empty and they were scratching their head in confusion, wondering how that had come to be.
Maude Standish knew she had erred when she abandoned the rule of selecting one's mark carefully.
The man had been rich and arrogant and as soon as Maude had entered his presence, she knew that she had found her next victim, despite all instincts that indicated to her that the man was dangerous. However, his disagreeable manner had all the more convinced Maude she could best him at the game she played so well throughout her life and thus caused her to throw caution to the wind. Maude began her latest escapade, proceeding to unwrap her deception with the intricacy of an onion being peeled layer by layer. Men who were rich were often easy to deceive and though his eyes revealed a ruthless and shrewd nature, Maude knew he was just a susceptible to the flattery and seduction that was an inherent weakness of the gender.
They had met in New Orleans, that pearl in the South that Maude had spent a great deal of time when she was in the mind for some rest where she used the sabbatical to conjure her next money making scheme. In truth, she preferred to conduct as little business as possible in New Orleans itself because she had been cultivating something of a reputation as a respectable widow. It amused her to move in the circles of the city's social elite, watching the best families jockeying for position as they tried to maintain their foothold on the ladder that kept them on rung above everyone else. Maude knew she somewhat mystified them. Here she was, a woman of breeding obviously but whose manner was so unusual, they had no idea what to make of her and were too afraid to distance themselves in case she turned out to be someone important.
It was this mystique that had drawn Jethro Lewisham to Maude Standish although in truth, she had been aware of him long before had presence of mind to cast his eye in her direction. She knew that he had money. In fact, the intelligence she had gathered on him uncovered that he had a great deal of it. His appearance in her life was rather fortuitous since Maude discovered she was in need of a hefty sum of money to invest in a venture that had arisen at the same time. It would not only allow her the chance to compete with the best of her peers, but also give her the opportunity to pay a call on her darling son.
It was all this factors and perhaps the fact that Lewisham was such an arrogant specimen of masculinity that Maude found herself abandoning the rule of paying close attention of what kind of man he was before launching into her latest scheme to dupe out of his money. She did not require any flamboyant scheme to take it, merely incite his interest in a series of card games that progressed over a number of weeks. Each time they played, she would lose enough to convince him that she was a worthy opponent but still one he could beat despite the challenge she offered. Their games grew in intensity until finally, one warm night in front of the greater part of New Orleans society, Maude was ready to cast her well-woven net over the good Mr Lewisham.
The game was blackjack and it started with small, even bets that everyone was capable of covering and could afford to lose without too much embarrassment. Maude bid her time carefully, never showing that she was a master with the cards and never allowing anyone at the table to suspect that she was any more than a mediocre player. She maintained this illusion particularly for Lewisham because he liked to win and more over, he liked doing it in front of an audience. Maude's interest in him had been inspired when she had seen him goad a man who had everything to lose including his pride, play the game of his life in a most public arena. The years had taught how to harden her heart against sentiment but even she tended to gravitate towards the mark who deserved it, not the one who was likely to put a gun to his head and blow it off because they had lost everything.
She had watched Lewisham capture the man's pride in the palm of his hand and crush it without mercy while wearing smile of sadistic relish on his face. It had angered her because there was no joy in a victory like that and the man who had been defeated had thrown himself in the river following the incident. Perhaps, it was sense of outrage over that which had motivated Maude to decide that Lewisham needed to be taught a similar lesson on the kind of prey he selected. As she sat around the felt covered table that evening, playing that final game with Lewisham, she played modestly to begin with, her skills gaining momentum as the stake started to become more and more exorbitant. The others at the table started falling a way, like an oak that sheds its leaves in winter.
Lewisham never suspected that he was being led to the slaughter, contenting himself in the arrogant belief that she was playing this well because of an extraordinary stroke of luck. After all, the lady had proven what kind of player she was on numerous occasions and he had more than enough money to run her into the ground if this bout of fortune remained much longer. People started to gather around the table, aware now that a great upset was taking place. Those who had been defeated by Lewisham were exultant that perhaps the great man might suffer some of the indignity he had inflicted upon other and very soon, the table was surrounded by half the reputable supper club's clientele.
As the evening progressed, the stake became more than just sizeable. It became a small fortune. Maude had a tidy nest egg put away for her retirement but she was willing to risk all to cover her bets because she knew with a clairvoyance that made her one of the best that she could beat him. Lewisham on the other hand, saw the money as little importance. It was the principal of the thing that held his concern most. He refused to be beaten by a woman! As a gentlemen of the south, it was a blow to his ego he could not endure and he stayed in the game out of sheer stubbornness in the belief that a woman could not best him at anything, least of all a game of blackjack.
Unfortunately, it became painfully obvious who the better player as the night continued.
Card after card was dealt and the luck of the evening seemed to be resting firmly in the lap of the elegant Mrs Standish with her smiles and genteel southern etiquette. However, in the depths of her azure coloured eyes, he was certain the sparkle of victory he saw there was actually the triumphant glimmer of someone who was publicly humiliating him with intent. Yet he could not withdraw without similarly embarrassing himself. Thus he was forced to remain at the felt covered table, playing side show freak to the gawkers who wished him to see him beaten, who wished him to be the beast that she, the lion tamer was whipping into submission.
It continued into the night, the game of chance being played with only one winner emerging throughout the countless hands that were dealt with each upturned card. Lewisham sat stonily through the last of it, aware that all eyes were on him, watching and waiting to see if he would cry surrender or would he let the sour wave of defeat sweep him to its inevitable conclusion. A part of him was astonished that this seemingly harmless widow could reduce him to such humiliation. However, another part of him, the part that made him the calculating and ruthless man that he was, was starting to see through the veneer of respectability Maude Standish wore like a fairy's glamour.
He started to understand just how cleverly she had played him with her alluring smiles and sea coloured eyes. As his mind descended into a red haze of vengeance, he began to see things with clarity of mind that had previously been lulled into complacency until this moment of shame. It was astonishing how such unpleasantness could focus the mind so singularly and yet in doing so, had made him understand that he had been fooled long before he had ever sat at this table with the venerable Mrs Standish. She had prepared him and basted him and finally served him like a Thanksgiving turkey at a feast of her making. The rage he felt while staring across the table at her, the father into defeat she plunged him was beyond reason. He had killed men for less.
He promised to do the same to her.
By the time the final hand was dealt, the pot sat at a hefty sum of five thousand dollars and exclamations of anticipation were heard with each card presented before the opponents and the banker in the final dealing. Throughout it all, Mrs Standish had appeared glacial in her concentration and further served to convince him that she had tricked him in the most common way possible, the hustle of a con. He had been conned into believing that she was a weak, mild mannered widow who had some scant skill in the game when in truth, he now suspected that she was possibly one of the most skilled players he had ever encountered. Such skill does not come easily; it is acquired from a lifetime of practice such as the skill of wearing so many masks.
Mrs Standish was a woman of masks, he decided when he put down his cards in that final moment of their tournament. He swore as he saw her present her perfect hand of a pair of spades, a jack and an ace, that he would strip down those layers and learn who it was that had deceived him so easily. He wore a smile of gracious defeat as she thanked him politely while receiving an ovation of congratulations from the onlookers whom had witnessed the achievement of her victory with so much finesse. Lewisham chose not to make a scene as he saw her collect his five thousand dollars, certain that he would have time for retribution at a later date.
When Maude saw the look in his eyes following their game, she knew she had made a bad mistake for he bore the look of a man with vengeance on his mind. While the money he had been forced to relinquish was hardly a great sum to him, Maude knew it was more than just the money that had inspired his hatred, it was her victory. She had delivered the humiliation she had wished upon him but in doing so had prodded into wakening a terrible creature of revenge that would not be satisfied until it had feasted upon her. Despite herself, Maude felt a certain amount of anxiety staining her triumph.
At first, she was uncertain how he would revenge himself upon her. Certainly, he would want a restoration of his lost prestige but that would require her to play him again and lose. He would be a fool to embark upon that course of action because he could not guarantee that unless he had something most compelling to convince her to let him win. She remained in New Orleans for a few days, biding her time even though she felt fear in not knowing how he was going to hurt her. Maude feared nothing in her life, not danger, not humiliation, not even making an honest living and yet she felt it creep up on her the more she waited.
Finally it came. Inquiries were being made about her past, questions asked about where she had come from and who she had been prior to her establishing herself in New Orleans. Maude understood immediately that Lewisham was trying to find out just who had duped him and knew the moment he had those answers, he would come after her. She cared little for her reputation in New Orleans even though she would miss the place if driven from it, however, it was merely one city and Maude was anything, if adaptable. She could find a new place easily.
However, sullying her reputation in society was only the first step. She had met enough men like him to know that his revenge would not be satisfied so easily. There would be more. The question was, would she remain to find out what he was capable of doing to her? After careful deliberation, Maude decided she would not and immediately began settling her affairs in town. Disappearing without a trace was something Maude Standish was most adept at doing and in the space of two days, the respectable widow had sold up and moved out.
By the time Lewisham had any idea that she was gone, Maude Standish was already on her way to visit her son and those nice friends of his, whom she was certain would protect should any harm chose to follow her.
It was time to visit Four Corners again.