by Lisa Kleypas
“ ’Ere now,” Derek was calling loudly. He moved forward, pushing his way through the mass as he spoke. “ ’Ere now, all fall back. Let Miss Lawson ’ave a little air. Fall back, so as the game can start.” The crowd loosened a little, the crush easing as Derek shoved his way to the middle. Alex let go of Lily. Automatically she turned to Derek, her eyes pleading.
Derek wore the same implacable expression as usual. He didn’t look at Alex, but focused on Lily’s small, tense face. “Worvy tells me we ’as a little wager.”
“Three hands of vingt-et-un,” Lily said shakily. “We…we need a card room—”
“No, do it ’ere.” Derek’s snarl of a smile appeared. “More convenient, as all of us can’t ’erd into a card room.”
Lily was stunned at the betrayal. Not one word of caution or concern. Derek was simply going to let it happen. He was even going to take advantage of the spectacle! If she were drowning, he would have offered her a drink.
A flare of anger braced her, gave her strength. “As always,” she said coldly, “you’re not above a little show-manship.”
“I’m not Derek Craven for nofing, gypsy.” His gaze searched the room for his factotum. “Worvy,” he called, “bring a new deck. We’ll see what the devil’s bible ’as to say.”
For the first time in the history of the gambling palace, the action at the hazard table was interrupted. Waiters scurried to bring fresh drinks. Money and markers exchanged hands until the air was filled with a clutter of paper. Voices rose as bets were made and doubled. Lily heard some of the bets with offended horror. Bitterly she realized that most of the men she had gambled with would like nothing better than to see her lose. It would put her in her place, they thought. It would serve her right, for daring to invade the sanctity of the men’s club. Disgusting barbarians, the lot of them.
“Shall I deal?” Derek asked.
“No,” Lily said sharply. “Worthy is the only man I trust.”
Touching his forehead with a mocking salute, Derek cleared the way for Worthy.
Soberly the factotum polished his spectacles with a handkerchief and replaced them on his face. He broke the seal on the deck. The crowd settled with an expectant hush. Worthy shuffled expertly, the cards flying and snapping in his small hands. Satisfied that it was thoroughly mixed, he placed the deck on the table and looked at Lily. “Cut, please,”
She reached out and cut it with a trembling hand. Worthy took the top half she’d indicated and placed it beneath the other cards. With a precise gesture, slow enough that everyone could witness, he removed the top card and set it aside. Lily felt comforted by his steadiness. She watched every move he made, certain he was dealing a fair game. “Three hands of vingt-et-un,” Worthy said. “Ace valued at one or eleven, at player’s discretion.” He dealt two cards to each of them, one faceup, one facedown. Lily’s card was an eight. Alex’s, a ten.
Worthy spoke quietly. “Miss Lawson?” Being the player to his immediate left, it was her lot to play first.
Lily turned her facedown card and bit her lip as she read it. A two. Looking at Worthy, she gestured for another. He placed it next to her original cards. A nine. There was an audible reaction from the gathering—whistles and exclamations. More money changed hands in the crowd. Lily began to relax, surreptitiously pressing a gloved hand to her sweat-beaded forehead. Her total was nineteen. The odds were in her favor.
She watched as Alex turned his card. A seven, bringing his total to seventeen. He signaled for another card. Lily gave a quiet exclamation as Worthy dealt him a jack, which put him well over twenty-one. She’d won the first hand. She grinned as she felt a few impulsive slaps of congratulations on her back and shoulders. “Cheeky bastards, I haven’t won yet.” There were a few chuckles, the patrons welcoming the temporary respite from tension.
Worthy moved the cards to a discard pile and dealt a new hand. The crowd settled immediately. Lily’s total was eighteen this time. It would be folly to request another card. “Stay,” she muttered. She frowned as she glanced at Alex’s faceup card, which was a king. He turned his card in the hole, and Lily’s heart dropped. A nine. Now they’d each won a hand. She looked at Alex, who was watching her with no trace of smugness or worry, nothing but a quiet certainty that bothered her profoundly. How dare he look so composed when her entire life was poised on the fragile turn of a card?
Worthy buried the played-out hands and dealt once more. The room was unnaturally quiet, breaths held tightly. Lily looked at her card, a queen, and turned the second one. A three. She gestured for a third. Worthy dealt her a seven. Her total was twenty!
“Thank God.” She grinned at Alex, silently daring him to beat it. She was going to win. With relief and joy, she thought of the fifteen thousand pounds. Perhaps that large a sum might even be enough to bribe Giuseppe to relinquish Nicole for good. At the very least, it would buy her time. And she would be able to rehire the detective she had been forced to dismiss for lack of money. She was flushed with triumph as she watched Alex. His first card was a ten. Gently he flipped over the second.
Ace of hearts.
His gray eyes lifted to Lily’s astonished face. “Twenty-one.”
A natural.
There was absolute silence. Derek was the first to speak. “ ’Oisted with ’er own petard,” he observed mildly.
Then the multitude raised a cry that sounded as if some primal jungle rite were taking place. “End of play, game to Lord Raiford,” Worthy said, but his pronouncement was lost in the uproar. The guests behaved like a tribe of primitive savages rather than civilized English gentlemen. Spilled liquor and wadded paper covered the carpet. Alex was subjected to crushing handshakes and vigorous blows to his back and arms, while Foka tried to anoint him by pouring vodka on his head. He ducked to avoid the splash of liquor, then came up in search of Lily. With a muffled sound of denial she had slipped through the gathering, making her way to one of the massive doorways. “Lily!” Alex tried to follow, but the tightly packed crowd made it impossible. He swore as she disappeared from sight.
Lily fled with bone-shaking, stomach-heaving haste, too terrified to watch where she was going. Suddenly she slammed into a hard object that knocked the breath from her. She made a sick sound and gasped for air, beginning to collapse to the floor. Derek, who had blocked her mad flight with his own body, seized her and held her upright. He stared at her with eyes like green ice.
“Let me go,” she wheezed.
“Women ’as no pride. Trying to cut an’ run, are you? Chicken-’earted wench.”
Lily grasped imploringly at his unyielding arms. “Derek, I can’t do this, I can’t—”
“You will. Nofing to it. You’ll honor your bet, gypsy, if I ’as to drag you to bed myself. An’ if you leaves, I’ll bring you back. Now go to my apartments an’ wait for ’im.”
“Why here? I…I’d rather go to my terrace.”
“You does it ’ere so I know you ’asn’t welshed.”
“No.” She shook her head dumbly, tears ready to fall. “No.”
Suddenly Derek changed, bewildering her with a tender smile. “No? Too late for that, gypsy. ’Tis a big lump, but you ’as to take it.” His voice turned quiet and kind, as if he were speaking to a headstrong child. “If you don’t honor the bet, no place in London would let you play—not Craven’s, not even the lowest gaming ’ell in Thieves’ Kitchen.”
“Why didn’t you stop me back there?” Lily burst out, her teeth chattering. “If you cared anything about me, you wouldn’t have let it happen! You should have kept me from getting into this mess—he’s going to hurt me, Derek, you don’t understand—”
“I understand ewerything. ’E won’t ’urt you. All ’e wants is a little knock with you, darlin’, that’s all.” He astonished her by bending to kiss her forehead. “Go on. Go pour a drink in yer guts, an’ wait for the jack.” He tried to shake her hands from his sleeves, but she clutched tighter.
“What do I do?” she choked, staring at him with huge eyes.
Derek’s black brows knitted together. Abruptly his gentleness disappeared, replaced by an insolent smile. “Get into bed, an’ lay flat as a flounder. Simple. Now go, an’ don’t ask me which side to turn up.” His derisive laughter was the only thing that would have dislodged her.
Lily let go of his sleeves. “I’ll never forgive you!”
Derek responded by pointing down the hall toward the stairs that led to the private rooms. She gathered the tattered remains of her dignity and squared her shoulders, striding away without looking back. As soon as she was gone, Derek’s smile vanished. He plunged into the hazard room. Catching Worthy’s eye, he mouthed the question Where is he? Worthy motioned to the edge of the mob, where Raiford was shoving a few unruly patrons aside in an effort to reach one of the exits.
Ignoring the raucous congratulations being thrown at him, Alex fought his way through the crowd to the hall. He hesitated as he glanced in the direction of the coffee rooms and libraries, wondering where Lily had gone.
“Lord Raiford?”
Alex turned to see Worthy emerge from the riot in the gaming room.
Derek Craven appeared at the same time. There was something coarse and hard in his expression that made him look more than ever like “flash-gentry,” a thief who had flourished but could never escape his sordid past. Green eyes locked with gray in a challenging stare. There had been no contest between them, and yet there was a definite feeling of violent discord, masculine uneasiness.
“Milord,” Derek said calmly. “I just told Miss Lawson she brung it on ’erself. Worvy dealt straight, ’e did, an’ no one can say—”
“Where is she?” Alex interrupted.
“First I ’as somefing to say.”
“What?”
An odd look crossed Derek’s face. He seemed to search for words, as if he wanted to say a great deal but was afraid of betraying himself. “Ride ’er easy,” he finally said, his voice laced with cool menace. “Nice an’ easy, or I makes you pay for it but good.” He made a gesture to his factotum, who waited silently nearby. “Worvy will show you to the upstairs room, milord. Lily is…” He paused and his mouth twisted impatiently “She’s waiting there.”
“Convenient,” Alex said curtly. “Not only will you share your woman, you’ll provide the bed as well.”
Derek gave him a humorless smile. “I don’t share nofing what’s mine. Understand? Yes, I see you does.”
Alex stared at him in bewilderment. “Then you and she aren’t—”
“Narrow a once,” Derek said in guttural cockney, with a shake of his head.
“But before you must have—”
“I only takes whores to bed.” Derek smiled humorlessly at Alex’s blank expression. “Lily’s rum goods. I wouldn’t touch ’er with these ’ands. She’s too fine for that.”
Frustration and amazement collided in Alex’s chest. Was it possible that the rumors were false and there had been no affair between them? God help him if he allowed himself to believe something so implausible. But what purpose would they have for lying? It made no sense. Dammit, was he ever going to find out who or what Lily Lawson was?
Craven snapped his fingers at the factotum. “Worvy,” he muttered, and walked away quickly.
Stunned, Alex watched Craven’s hasty departure. “What’s going on between those two?”
Worthy regarded him impassively. “Nothing, exactly as Mr. Craven told you. Mr. Craven has always felt it would be prudent to keep his friendship with Miss Lawson platonic.” With that, he gestured for Alex to follow him along the twists and turns of the hall.
“Why?” Alex demanded. “What’s wrong with her? Or is it him?” He stopped and grabbed the factotum’s lapels, spinning him around. “Tell me, or I’ll wring it out of you!”
Gently Worthy disengaged the fine worsted cloth of his coat from Alex’s fists. “My personal opinion on the matter,” he said quietly, “is that he’s afraid of falling in love with her.”
Alex’s hands dropped. He felt as if he were hovering on the brink of some momentous disaster. “Oh, hell.”
Worthy looked at him inquiringly. “Shall we continue, my lord?”
Alex nodded without a word. Worthy brought him to an unpretentious door that looked as though it might lead to some cellar storerooms. Instead it opened to reveal a narrow staircase that spiraled upward. Worthy ascended the remaining steps and indicated another door. He looked up at Alex with the same expression Derek had earlier, yearning to make a speech but struggling to suppress it. “Let me assure you, my lord, you will not be disturbed. If you require anything, ring for the staff. They have been chosen for their efficiency and discretion.” He slipped past Alex and vanished like a shadow.
Alex found himself staring at the closed door with a grimace. He remembered Lily’s face in the gaming room as she realized she had lost. She’d been devastated. No doubt she expected the worst from him, especially after what she’d done to him. But he wasn’t going to hurt her. Suddenly he was impatient to make her understand that revenge had no part of this. Grasping the doorknob, he turned and pushed.
Worthy found Derek in one of the small, seldom-used rooms in the gambling palace. It was decorated with chairs, a desk, and a chaise lounge, making it a convenient trysting spot or a place where business could be conducted with absolute privacy. Derek stood by a window, nearly hidden by a drape. Although he was aware of Worthy’s approach, he remained silent, his fingers tangling restlessly in the thick folds of scarlet velvet.
“Mr. Craven?” Worthy asked hesitantly.
Derek spoke as if to himself. “Jaysus, she was white as chalk. Knees knocking fit to make ’er guts rattle. Not what Raiford expects to find, I’ll wager.” He gave a harsh laugh. “I don’t envy the poor bastard.”
“Don’t you, sir?” Worthy asked quietly.
There was nothing but silence. Derek kept his face turned away. There was a peculiar sound to his breathing. After a few moments, he spoke hoarsely, making a careful effort to soften his cockney accent. “I’m not good enow for her. But I know what she needs. Someone her own kind…someone who hasn’t lived ’is life so long in the gutter. I think…I think she could’ve cared for me. But I ’asn’t let it happen. I…wants better for her.” He passed a hand over his eyes and gave a bitter, self-mocking laugh. “If only I was born a gentleman,” he whispered harshly. “If I was born decent. Then I’d be with her now instead o’ bloody damn Raiford,” He swallowed audibly fighting for self-control. “I wants a drink.”
“What would you like?”
“Anyfing. Just be quick about it.” He waited until Worthy had left, then leaned his face in the drapes, rubbing the velvet against his cheek.
Chapter 8
Alex crossed the threshold of a tiny cove that served as an entrance hall. He found Lily standing in the center of a room filled with high-flown extravagance, all baroque clutter and gilt. He’d seen more tastefully decorated bawdy houses.
Lily’s stillness was deceptive. Alex sensed her explosive mood. He tried to keep his gaze on her face, but he couldn’t help sliding a quick glance over the black lace and nude silk of her gown, the gloves that covered her arms. He was glad she hadn’t undressed. He wanted to do it. The thought caused a violent response within him, making his heart churn and his body fill with heat. He wanted to soothe the anxiety that had caused the color to drain from her face. Before he could say a word, Lily broke the silence with a nervous gasp of a laugh.
“Derek’s apartments,” she said, gesturing around them. She wrapped her arms tight around her middle and manufactured a wry smile. “Charming, are they not?”
Alex glanced at the room, taking in its velvet decadence and expensive faceted mirrors and florid paintings of mythological scenes. “It suits him.” Slowly he approached her. “Do you want to go somewhere else?’
“No.” She hopped back, preserving the distance between them.
“Lily—”
“No. No, wait. I should like to tell you s-something first.
” She ducked her head and went to a small table inlaid with lapis. Snatching up a small slip of paper, she held it out to him. As soon as he took it, she backed away. “I-I’ve just written that out,” she said rapidly. “My note for fifteen thousand pounds. I’m afraid it will take some time for me to make good on it, but I swear you’ll receive it all, with interest. Any rate you want. Within reason, of course.”
“I don’t want interest.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind—”
“I want a night with you.” He crumpled the paper in his fist and let it drop to the floor. “I’ve wanted it since I first saw you.”
“You can’t,” she said with an emphatic shake of her head. “It won’t happen. I’m sorry.”
Deliberately he walked toward her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Lily held her ground, but a visible shudder ran through her. “I can’t do this with you,” she cried, raising her hands to ward him off. “Not with any man!”
Her words seemed to hover in the air between them. Alex stopped, puzzled and wary, staring at her keenly. Was the thought of taking him into her bed so repugnant to her? Was it him or all men? Was it…A new, startling thought occurred to him, and he felt a burning warmth creep up from his neck. In all his arrogance, there was a possibility he hadn’t considered before. He took a deep breath. “You…” he began awkwardly. “Is it that you…prefer women?”
“What?” Lily regarded him with bewilderment, then turned crimson. “Oh, good God! No, it’s not that.”
She was driving him mad. “Then what is it?” he asked tautly.
Lily lowered her head. “Just take my pledge,” she said in an agonized whisper. “Take the money. I promise I’ll make good on it, just take it—”
He took her arms in a hard grip, interrupting the tumble of words. “Look at me,” he said, but she kept her head down. “Lily, tell me.”
She gave a dry, cracked laugh and shook her head.
“Did someone hurt you?” he asked urgently. “Is that it?”