One Rogue Too Many (15 page)

Her arms were crossed and her dark glare was aimed at him. Well, he’d stepped in it bad this time. He feigned a smile. “I apologize for being sharp with you, sweetheart.”

One dark eyebrow arched. “Do you have no apology for ordering me about like a hound?”

This time his grin was real. “A good scratch behind the ears ought to suffice.” When he reached for her ear, she slapped his hand away and laughed.

“I’ll never roll over for you, Lord Ellis. I’m not the submissive type.”

“You are the only way I would ever want you.”

When she accepted his escort, the spark had returned to her eyes. He only hoped he could keep it there in the end.

***

Gabby’s sisters were waiting in her chambers when she returned from the Norwicks’ party.

Lizzie bounded from her perch on the window seat beside Katie and grabbed Gabby’s shoulders. “Tell us everything. What was it like attending the notorious countess’s party? Was it as scandalous as you thought?”

She gave her sister a censorious look. “Elizabeth Forest, have you been eavesdropping again?”

Lizzie didn’t even blush. “How else am I to know what goes on outside of Talliah House?”

Indeed
. This would have been her sisters’ first Season if Gabby hadn’t failed her family. Yet they never expressed any bitterness for their circumstances. She cupped Lizzie’s cheek, her heart swollen with love for her dear siblings.

“We should walk in the park tomorrow,” Gabby said. “Perhaps you will glean some interesting information to tide you over for a bit.”

“Splendid!” Lizzie threw her arms around her and almost knocked them both to the ground. When she released Gabby, she bit her bottom lip. “Oh, dear. I have nothing to wear. I should summon Magda at once.”

She rushed from the chamber, mumbling under her breath.

Katie lowered her book and smiled. “You realize she won’t sleep a wink tonight.”

“Aren’t you excited to escape the house, too?” Gabby sat beside her sister, sinking into the plush cushion. No wonder Katie preferred to read in her chambers.

Her sister shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps if we were to visit the lending library.”

“I will do even better and give you what’s left of my pin money so you can purchase your own book.”

Her sister took her hand and squeezed. “You have no cause to feel guilty, Gabrielle. You don’t need to try to make amends.”

“I don’t feel guilty.”

Katie’s crooked smile looked so much like their brother’s. She was too clever for her own good, just like Drew. When she tried to raise her book again, Gabby reached out to stop her.

“Very well. I might have a bit of remorse, but I want to make life more pleasant for you and Liz because I love you.”

“And we love you. You needn’t do anything to earn it.”

“Thank you, kitten.” There was no sense in debating it with her sister. In her heart, Gabby knew she owed Liz and Katie, even if they refused to acknowledge it. “And you will allow me to purchase you a new book.”

***

Anthony and his servant entered the mist-choked alley leading to the Den of Iniquity, Thorne’s favorite gambling hell. The jackass had disappeared from the Norwicks’ party before Anthony had located him, and a stop by the club had yielded nothing. A matter like this couldn’t be ignored, so he would hunt Thorne all night if necessary. Anthony had to make Thorne understand that using his daughter to gain an advantage was unacceptable. Annabelle’s future could suffer irreparable damage.

He tightened his grip on his flintlock’s handle as they moved farther into the darkness. Remaining on alert, he listened for the presence of footpads, even as they reached the secret entrance of the gambling den.

“State your business,” a voice rumbled from the dark.

“Lord Goldfinch sends his regards.”

A guard materialized from the fog; gleaming eyes stared out from a shadowed face. “Disarm yourself.”

Anthony handed his pistol to his coachman. “This shouldn’t take long. Wait with the coach.”

“Yes, sir.” His man vanished into the dark, his footsteps echoing on the cobbled path.

The door creaked open and a dull river of light spilled down the narrow staircase inside the entrance.

“Welcome to hell, milord.” The man sounded bored, as if he’d repeated the same words countless times.

Anthony barreled up the stairs, paused at the top, and made a visual sweep of the room. Pungent tobacco smoke hovered on the air, curling around the gamblers like a giant snake. He blinked against the sting to his eyes.

Thorne had to be here. He hadn’t been at Brooks’s or any of the taverns he was known to frequent. Eventually Anthony spotted him slumped over the faro table with a thin pile of blunt in front of him. The dealer called out the card as he pulled it from the box then raked up Thorne’s money along with all the other men’s.

Crackbrains
.

Only idiots came to the Den hopeful of leaving with any gold still in their pockets. How could the baron think he was any good for Gabby when he was so careless with his money?

With a renewed sense of indignation, Anthony marched across the room and jerked Thorne from his chair by the scruff of his neck.

“What the hell?” Thorne stumbled back as the chair tipped and banged against the floor. Anthony swung for his nose before he had time to get his bearings.

Thorne deflected the blow. “You mad bastard. What has gotten into you?”

“You know what this is about.”

“I know you’re a damned thief!” Thorne’s eyes narrowed to slits and he pounced, catching Anthony off guard. They slammed into the floor; every bone in Anthony’s body shuddered.

With an animalistic roar, Thorne drew his fist back. He’d always fought like a demon from hell, but Anthony was usually pulling him off some poor sap. Not on the receiving end of his temper. He caught the baron’s fist before it plowed into his face and wrenched his arm to the side. Thorne toppled to the left, his head rapping against the wooden planks.

Thorne cursed, his eyes flaming black as Anthony scrambled for position. He snatched the baron’s waistcoat and drove his fist into Thorne’s mouth before he could strike again. A spray of blood splattered Anthony’s cravat. He drew back to hammer Thorne again, but someone snagged his arm from behind and roughly hauled him to his feet.

Before Thorne could move, two of the Den’s henchmen lugged him from the floor, too. The baron bucked against their hold, cursing and nearly breaking free before the bigger oaf delivered a gut-punch that doubled him over. Thorne rested his hands on his knees as he coughed and spit up blood. Anthony stopped struggling before he received the same treatment.

The owner, Sly Si—referred to as sir within his hearing since he was as large as an oak—frowned at them from the upper floor. He nodded sharply to his men.

They dragged Anthony and Thorne toward the entrance.

“Take it outside,” Si’s man said before tossing Anthony down the stairwell. He caught his elbow against the wall and gained his feet before he tumbled headfirst.

Thorne’s captors took it easier on him—perhaps because he was still wheezing from the stomach blow—and released him with a hearty slap on his back.

“Until tomorrow night, Thorne.”

The baron glowered at Anthony, panting. Blood trickled from a cut on his lower lip and he swiped his sleeve across his mouth. Slowly he straightened and jerked his waistcoat back into place. “Bloody Philistine.” Thorne passed by him on the stairs, his head held high like he was blasted royalty.

“This isn’t over,” Anthony called then followed him. He wiggled his fingers to battle against the stiffness setting into his knuckles. Damn, Thorne had a hard head.

Silence hung between them as they left the building. They walked side by side down the alley, the fog surrounding them.

“If we are murdered by thieves, I blame you,” Thorne said.

Anthony came to a halt, while Thorne kept walking. “If you had kept your damned mouth shut, we wouldn’t be here.”

Thorne retraced his steps and stopped in front of Anthony. “Someone must look out for Lady Gabrielle’s interests. Were you planning to tell her?”

So he did know what this was about and he wasn’t denying his part.

“I’ll still tell her,” Anthony said through clenched teeth, “but this isn’t about Gabby. I can’t have people speculating about my daughter’s origins. She’s an innocent girl.”

“So is Lady Gabrielle.” Thorne moved closer, his perfect nose begging to be knocked out of joint. “She should be aware of any scandals associated with her future husband.”

“That’s hypocritical, given your father’s history and Miss Thorne’s unfortunate situation.”

“Don’t you dare speak ill of my sister,” he growled.

“I have nothing but the greatest respect for your sister. You, however, are despicable.”

Blood continued to drip from Thorne’s lip, lending him the appearance of a savage animal when he bore his teeth. “You think
I’m
despicable? Well, I have never kept my past a secret from Lady Gabrielle. Can you say the same?”

“My past is my concern. And if you ever spread tales about my daughter again”—he thumped Thorne’s chest—“you’ll have more than a bloody lip when I’m finished with you.”

“I would like to see you try. Without the advantage of surprise, I would make short work of you.”

Anthony scoffed and continued the long walk down the alley. Thorne fell into step with him, both of them sullen.

Angered by the other man’s presence, Anthony walked faster. The baron stepped up his pace and pulled ahead.

Bollocks!
Everything was a contest with the jackass. And Anthony was damned, because he wanted to beat Thorne more than ever. He increased his speed until he was at a walk-run. The baron’s head snapped toward him when Anthony came up beside him and broke into an easy jog. So did Anthony. By God, he wasn’t going to lose to the ungrateful bastard.

Not for the first time, Anthony regretted the day he’d come to Thorne’s defense at Eton. Thorne had become a target for bullies who thought his father had bats in the belfry. Anthony must have been mad himself to intervene. Not only had Thorne been unappreciative of Anthony’s assistance, the baron had been trying to prove his superiority ever since.

Thorne broke into a run, his boots slamming against the cobblestones.

“Come back here.” Anthony dashed after him.

He grabbed for and caught the hem of Thorne’s coat to slow him. Throwing his arm around his neck, he jostled for control. The baron fought back, twisting and bucking, until they banged into a wall. Thorne threw his head back and connected with Anthony’s nose. Cursing and wrestling with Thorne, he tried to slam him to the ground.

“Who goes there?” a shaky voice called from the fog. “I have a firearm, and I will use it.”

They froze.

“It’s only Thorne and Ellis.” Anthony released the baron and Thorne snarled at him. “You have nothing to fear. Lower your weapon.”

A muted light traveled down the alley. When the gentleman and his footman reached them, he held the lantern high, blinding Anthony.

“Have you been fighting?” a much too cheerful voice asked.

Anthony groaned under his breath. “Ledbery. Fancy meeting you this fine evening.”

“There’s blood. You have been fighting, haven’t you?”

Thorne shouldered past Anthony harder than necessary.

“Who threw the first punch?” Ledbery asked.

Thorne jabbed a finger in Anthony’s direction. “He attacked me and I assure you, it was unprovoked. He should be carted off to Bedlam.”

Ledbery’s smile fell. “Damnation. Were there any witnesses?”

“Only half the occupants of the Den,” Thorne spat.

Ledbery cursed again. “What’s the matter with you, Thorne? You have the temper of the devil himself. I had money on you throwing the first punch.”

Anthony didn’t have time for any more of this nonsense. He started down the alley toward his carriage. “Remember what I said, Thorne. The lady wants nothing to do with you. Steer clear of her.”

When Anthony reached the end of the alley, Thorne’s voice floated from the fog. “She will.”

Sixteen

When Gabby and her sisters left Talliah House en route to Hyde Park the next morning, she purposefully selected the least direct path. There weren’t many people about yet since it was still early, which made it the perfect time for them to venture out.

“Isn’t the park the other way?” Katie asked when Gabby led them in the opposite direction.

She opened her parasol and kept up her brisk pace. “I believe you are correct, kitten.”

Her sisters fell behind with the footman assigned to accompany them. They whispered back and forth.

“But why are we going this way?” Katie said.

“Shh. Let’s see where she takes us.”

Gabby smiled at Lizzie’s eagerness to alter their usual course to the park. She had known her sister would appreciate a chance to see a bit of London on foot, not that they would go anyplace dangerous. Still, Gabby hadn’t chosen their detour to please her sister. All night she had been plagued by Lord Thorne’s cryptic words at the Norwicks’ party.

How could seeing Anthony’s daughter lay the baron’s questions to rest? It made no sense. She should dismiss it as balderdash, but that niggling feeling that something wasn’t right wouldn’t go away. Calling at Anthony’s town house was too scandalous to contemplate, but passing by while on a lovely stroll with her sisters wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

It wasn’t likely she would catch a glimpse of Annabelle, so it probably would be a wasted trip. But she’d made a bargain with herself. If she didn’t see Anthony’s daughter, she would put the matter from her mind. Or she would try. Doubting him didn’t sit well with Gabby.

Lizzie came forward and linked arms with her. “What is it like to be on the marriage mart?”

Katie came up on her other side, apparently having given up her quest to determine where they were headed. There they were, just three sisters who were also the best of friends. She snuggled them closer, her heart lighter for a moment.

In her first Season, Gabby had been deemed a diamond of the first water. She’d had more suitors than she needed, and she had tossed away a good number of men who would have made a decent husband in favor of Lt. MacFarland.