Leaning forward, he planted his elbows on his sturdy thighs, clasping both hands around his glass. “Before that, I saw my bulk as an inconvenient thing. It made me stand out when I didn’t want to.” He seemed to be struggling to find the correct words. She didn’t push. She merely waited. “It made children call me a beast. But I was convinced had I been about when the woman was attacked, I’d have been able to save her. My logical self, my grown self, knows that’s not true. But I began to pay more attention when I was on my routes, and a few times I was able to chase off someone who meant harm. I began to gain a reputation: the Beast of Whitechapel. But I also became fascinated with murder.”
“You’re not the only one obsessed. I can’t believe the amount of ink the newspapers devote to describing the crimes and the trials of murderers in such lurid details.”
He gave her a self-deprecating grin. “Which provided me with fodder for my stories. In addition, I spoke to the constables, detectives, and inspectors. I went to the courts, observed the trials. I even paid a shilling to go on tours of some of the murder sites.”
A cold shiver ran down her spine. “That’s a bit macabre.”
“I can’t argue with you there. Murder tourism was popular for a while. I wasn’t looking for the blood. I was striving to understand the provocation. Often, everything about the place seemed so normal. Crockery on the shelves. Quilt on the bed. A chair before the fire. I came to realize that was one of the horrors of murder. It can happen anywhere with no hint that it’s lurking about. In a quiet village. On a noisy street. In a verdant park. I devoured detective novels. I began writing my own. They were rubbish.” He tipped his head toward her lap where his book rested. “Until finally one wasn’t. Or at least I was led to believe it wasn’t.”
She gave him an encouraging smile. “It’s not. I could hardly put it down once I started reading it.”
He settled back, took a sip of the scotch, and turned his attention to the fire. “Apologies. I don’t usually go on like that.”
“I’m glad you did. Your passion for your endeavors is evident.”
His gaze slid unerringly back to her. “What is your passion?”
She ran her finger over the spine of the book, over the gold-embossed title. Over his name. Learning about him had become a sort of passion. She wanted to know everything, all the large and small moments of his life, the exciting ones and the mundane. She wanted him to kiss her again, wanted to kiss him back. She’d thought by becoming some lord’s mistress, she could free her brothers from worrying about her care, thought she could free herself. But she was beginning to wonder if she wasn’t in truth simply exchanging one sort of prison for another.
She wasn’t quite certain what she might have answered, what she would have confessed, because Jewel suddenly swept into the room, and he immediately came to his feet.
“A missive was just delivered for you.”
He took the letter she extended toward him, unfolded it, and read whatever had been written. When he was done, he refolded it and tucked it inside his jacket before turning to her. “I’m sorry but I have a matter to which I need to attend.”
She thought she detected a measure of disappointment in his expression, in his voice, although it might have been only wishful thinking on her part. “I’ll bid you good-night, then.”
He began striding toward the doorway. Halfway there he came to an abrupt halt. She was fairly certain she heard him growl, darkly and roughly, a crass reference to testicles.
He swung around. “I’m going to my brother’s gaming hell. Women are welcomed there. Would you care to join me?”
Chapter 15
Her excitement was palpable. Beast could feel her fairly bouncing on the squab opposite him, the aftermath of each movement creating tiny tremors along the floor of Aiden’s carriage. His brother had ensured that not only a missive was delivered but a comfortable conveyance as well. A footwarmer and fur blanket had been waiting inside, which confounded him a bit. Surely, Aiden didn’t think he was delicate and needed to be pampered, although he was grateful they were available for Thea’s use.
He was still having a hell of a time believing how he’d rambled on in response to such a simple question. One sentence would have sufficed. “I came across a murdered woman once and it fired my imagination.”
Only it hadn’t—not at the time. The sight of her bleached of color, her limbs cold and stiff, had numbed him, made it difficult to think. As he ran off to find help, it had felt as though ice were slushing through his veins, causing his frantic strides to be ungainly and cumbersome. When he’d finally located a copper, he’d stammered almost incoherently until he’d managed to slow his racing heart with deep breaths and regain a sense of calm.
For a time he’d considered that when he was of the proper age, he would join the Metropolitan Police Force but had feared he’d become as inured to empathy as the constable who had absently patted his back and sent him on his way without giving any thought to the notion that a nine-year-old lad had just seen something that would give him nightmares for months.
He was grateful the missive had come, and he wouldn’t spend the remainder of the night contemplating the past. He did wish it had arrived a bit later, preferably after she’d revealed her passion. That her gaze had been focused on his lips as she sought her answer had made it nearly impossible for him to draw breath as he anticipated her response. And now he needed a distraction from that path of thought. “Are you familiar with four-card brag?”
“No.”
“It’s quite popular at Aiden’s gaming tables, so it would behoove me to teach you the rules, how to determine which card to discard, so the three remaining are more likely to see you with a win.”
“Oh, I shan’t be gambling. I haven’t the coins for it. I’m simply curious. I’ve never been to a gaming hell before. I’m quite looking forward to the experience of seeing everything, absorbing the atmosphere.”
He was willing to wager two of his ships that once they arrived, she would indeed sit at a table in order to try her hand at winning.
“Will the matter you have to deal with take long?” she asked.
“Not long.”
“Perhaps I’ll have the opportunity to observe you at the gaming tables.”
“Then let me explain things so you’ll be able to fully appreciate how very skilled and clever I am at card play.”
Even within the dark confines of the carriage, he could sense her gaze homed in on him as though she’d reached out and touched him with her gloved fingers. “I realize I’ve not known you that long, but I’ve seen you as more modest than braggart.”
He’d boasted about a skill at which he didn’t excel in order to entice her into having an interest in learning how to play. After she’d bid him good-night and he’d headed for the door, he’d realized it was important for her to be with him at the club. “Indulge me.”
Her laughter was soft, and yet it inhabited his soul. “All right.”
He explained how cards in the same suit beat those in a sequence, how three matching cards beat cards in the same suit or a sequence, how a sequence of the same suit beat everything.
“It’s not a very complicated game,” she said.
“No, but it is responsible for fortunes being won and lost.”
It was a dangerous thing to have her within the dark confines of a carriage, with her gardenia scent wafting around him, teasing his nostrils.
With a shake of his head and a long sigh, he pressed his back farther into the cushion, stretched out his legs, and crossed his arms over his chest. Now was not the time to reach for her, pull her onto his lap, and take possession of that mouth that taunted him still, to sample once more a kiss that haunted him. He chided himself. There would never be a time for doing that.
The carriage came to a stop. A footman opened the door, and Beast leapt out. Reaching back, he handed her down.
Her eyes widened slightly. “I’d expected something like White’s.”
He offered his arm, and when she wrapped hers around it, he experienced a sense of satisfaction and pride that were not his to own. He led her up the steps. A footman opened the door.
Beast ushered Thea inside and despite the dimly lit interior, he noticed Aiden standing at the end of the short entryway, gazing into the first of several large rooms where various games of chance were being played. After handing the woman at the small desk his greatcoat and Thea’s cloak, he approached his brother. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Aiden glanced over his shoulder, opened his mouth to speak, stopped, his eyes widening slightly—no doubt at the sight of Thea—and faced him fully. Although in truth he didn’t seem particularly surprised by her appearance. Rather, he seemed pleased, as though he’d guessed correctly that a footwarmer and blanket would be needed in the carriage. “I had my man send word to me when he sent word to you. You didn’t think I was going to miss whatever you had in mind, did you?”
Aiden had always loved nothing more than witnessing or participating in a well-executed reprisal or swindle.
“Thea, meet my brother Aiden. Aiden, allow me the honor of introducing Miss Stanwick.”
Aiden bestowed upon her one of the devilish grins for which he was so famous, took her hand, and placed a kiss against her knuckles. In spite of the fact she wore gloves so his brother couldn’t feel the silkiness of her skin, Beast still had a strong urge to punch him. Which was a patently ridiculous inclination because Aiden was madly in love with his wife. “A pleasure, Miss Stanwick.”
“It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”
“So how is it that you know my brother?” He was still holding her hand, blast him.
“That’s unimportant at the moment,” Beast interjected. “We need to get to business. Where is he?”
Aiden’s eyes were twinkling when he returned his attention to Beast. Of all his siblings, Aiden was the one who laughed the most and saw life as a grand jest. Except when it came to his wife and son. Then he was as serious as a mute who accompanied a funeral procession. He cocked his head in the direction Beast should look. “At the table set halfway along that wall. The fair-haired chap whose face is most visible to us.”
The man was of a slight build, smaller than he’d expected. Standing, he couldn’t have been taller than five feet eight, if that. His clothing was exceptionally well tailored. His hair looked as though his valet had a few minutes earlier taken a brush to it and styled it. His movements were refined and elegant. She’d chosen a peacock to love, to marry. Now she stood beside a proper bear.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her straining forward slightly, no doubt striving to determine who the he might be. Beast knew the moment she saw the scapegrace because she gave a little audible gasp, released her hold on him, and pressed both hands to her mouth.
“It’s Chadbourne.” She jerked her gaze up to him, betrayal written clearly across her features. “You knew he would be here?”
He nodded. “The missive informed me.” It had merely said, He’s here. It was all he’d needed.
She swiveled her head back toward the card room, then back to him. “He’s the matter you needed to attend to?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Ensure that he loses every farthing he brought with him tonight.”
It was subtle, but he saw the lessening of the alarm in her eyes as though she’d feared he’d intended to kill him. That realization hurt, and he knew the hurt to be irrational. Yes, he was a beast, had killed once, had no desire to repeat the experience.
“How many pounds in chips do you want to start?” Aiden asked.
Beast didn’t look away from those beautiful blue eyes that he feared might be damning him. “A thousand.”
Aiden left to retrieve the wooden disks.
“You’re going to wager and risk losing a thousand pounds?” she asked, clearly horrified.
“No. You are.”
The air left her lungs as though he’d punched her. “Have you gone mad?”
“I don’t think so. Why do you think I taught you the rules of the game in the carriage?”
“Because you’re a braggart.” She would have been so much happier if that was the reason.
“Thea.” Firmly, he held her gaze. “I had originally planned to play him, but as I was leaving the library, I realized it’s not my fight to win. I’m not the one he publicly mortified. I’m not the one he turned his back on. I’m not the one he abandoned.”
“Taking the money he brought with him tonight will not change any of that.”
“No. His humiliation at losing will not compare to what you suffered, but it is something. And sometimes that’s all we get. Once you return to Aiden the thousand quid he’s loaning you, the remainder of what you win will be yours. A little nest egg to do with as you please.”
She didn’t like at all the hope that filled her with that possibility. A little more to squirrel away, perhaps enough so she could immediately pay Beth for the trousseau. “And if I lose?”
“You won’t. I’ll sit beside you and if you need help determining which card to toss away, you can ask me.”
She would indeed experience some satisfaction in besting Chadbourne. “He very well might leave when he sees me. As you saw with Lady Jocelyn, I’d be more welcomed if I had the plague.”
“I doubt he’s going to leave. But I don’t want you to feel as though you have no choice here. If you don’t wish to play him, I will. But make no mistake. He is my purpose in coming here tonight, and I shall see to that purpose. Aiden can have one of his men accompany you back to the residence. You can stay and watch. Or you can play and deliver the drubbing he deserves.”
At that moment she realized she wasn’t a very nice person. She not only wanted to see Chadbourne lose but also wanted to be the one responsible for his losing. Making up her mind, she nodded quickly, decisively. “No, I’ll play him.”
“Good. When all is said and done, I think you’ll be ever so glad you did.”
“Here you are,” Aiden said, handing a small tray filled with wooden disks to Benedict, not showing any surprise at all when the tray was passed off to her. “Each of those is worth ten quid. Good luck.”
“I’ll try not to lose them.”
He shrugged as though it was no large matter. “I’m not worried.” He touched Benedict’s arm. “The bloke in the red shirt sitting opposite Chadbourne—just tap his shoulder and he’ll move to another table.”
“We’ll need your special dealer.”
“Danny’s already there, ensuring Chadbourne’s winning enough hands that he should be fairly cocky and full of himself by the time you arrive. Now entertain me by putting him in his place.”
Benedict shook his head, and she suspected if he was the rolling-his-eyes sort, he’d have done that as well. As it was, he turned to her. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Placing his hand on the small of her back reassuringly, he guided her around the tables, through the crush of people. It was an odd mixture of the well attired and the coarsely dressed. She doubted a single woman she spotted was of the nobility. Their woolen frocks were simple and plain, their hair pinned up but not nearly as tidy as it might be. The pipes and cigars made the room smoky enough to sting her eyes. Even some of the women were puffing on slender cheroots. It seemed everyone was indulging in spirits. Footmen were dashing around refilling glasses.
People were so absorbed in their play that no one was paying attention as they wended their way through the room. If any other lords were here, anyone who might recognize her, she thought it unlikely they would notice her. After all, she no longer dressed as an aristocrat but as a commoner, and nobles seldom gazed into the faces of commoners unless they
were standing right in front of them, as she’d been with Lady Jocelyn that afternoon. Therefore, she didn’t feel as though she was walking a gauntlet fraught with any danger of being called out by another.
“Does your brother loan this much so easily to everyone?”
“It’s not a loan, Thea. If you should happen to lose it all, you won’t be paying it back.”
She stopped abruptly to look up at him. “You can’t be serious. He’s just giving it to me?”
He gave her an indulgent smile. “Eventually, if he stays at the tables long enough, whoever you lose it to will lose it to the house and it’ll go back into Aiden’s coffers. It’s one of the reasons gambling hells are so profitable.”
“He doesn’t give money to everyone.”
“No, everyone else has to pay him back with interest. Only family gets to play without any investment.”
“But I’m not family.”
He sighed. “You’re with me tonight and I arranged this little endeavor, and so the chips are a favor to me. Now come along, before Chadbourne grows weary of playing.”
She knew the moment Chadbourne spied her. His eyes grew as round as a barn owl’s, and she regretted that her new frocks weren’t yet ready, the frocks with the unfaded cloth, the untattered cuffs, the unfrayed collar, the unscratched buttons. The frocks that would fit her perfectly rather than hang slightly loosely because she was no longer the stout girl she’d been when food had been abundant and she’d spent every afternoon enjoying an entire box of chocolate-coated bonbons while lounging on a burgundy velvet-covered divan with a book in hand. Her hair was another matter entirely. As her first lady’s maid lesson, Hester had spent over an hour before dinner arranging it in an elegant coiffure.
He didn’t come to his feet as she neared but remained seated and she hoped rather wickedly it was because the sight of her had weakened his knees. Although she suspected the truth was a bit more disheartening: he simply no longer thought her deserving of the small courtesy.
His lack of movement made her appreciate more that Benedict not only came to his feet whenever she entered a room but also extended the same respect to the women in his residence who earned their coins by performing intimate services. She wondered if he looked down upon anyone. When she glanced quickly up at him, she saw in his dark eyes that Chadbourne apparently occupied that position. She found the realization fortifying.
Beauty Tempts the Beast Page 16