by Laura Landon
“Of course,” Benjamin answered. “Anything I can do to help.”
“In order to determine how involved Cavanaugh is in the running of The Dove, we need him to witness what Ellsworth and Willard have turned the club into.”
“Do you think it is possible Cavanaugh doesn’t know?” her father asked.
“It’s possible. If he’s satisfied with the profits The Dove provides, he may not care to know how his employees earn the profit he receives.”
“How will you determine how involved he is? What exactly is it you want him to witness?” her brother asked.
“The auctions, sir. The auctions The Dove is reported to hold to sell innocent young girls for the sexual pleasures of men willing to pay exorbitant amounts. And, Mr. Stillman being subjected to Ellsworth’s whip,” Mack Wallace answered, as if one of his brigadesmen being whipped was a sacrifice he expected his employees to make.
A painful knot lodged in Winnie’s stomach. Didn’t Mack Wallace realize how deadly Basil Ellsworth was with his whip? Didn’t he realize the danger Nick would be in? Didn’t he realize that if Ellsworth recognized Nick, he might not survive the beating?
“What exactly do you expect will happen?” her father asked.
“Confirmation of how much Cavanaugh knows. Enough proof to hand him over to the authorities.”
“When did you want this to happen?” her brother asked. She heard the determination in Benjamin’s voice. Heard his resolve to do whatever was necessary to help in any way he could.
“Tomorrow night,” Mack Wallace answered.
Winnie didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation. She was too desperate to find a way to save Nick from having to go in the box with Ellsworth.
Somehow, she knew if Ellsworth had another chance to use his whip on Nick, Nick wouldn’t survive.
CHAPTER 20
Winnie could scarcely enjoy the ball her father was giving to announce Anne’s betrothal to Lord Montroy. Worry over Nick and what might happen to him had consumed her thoughts every minute since she’d heard Mack Wallace’s plan to expose the owner of The Dove.
Even the latest demand for money that arrived that afternoon paled in comparison to what might happen tomorrow night when Ellsworth got Nick into the box.
Winnie scanned the room. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Nick walking toward her.
Her first instinct was to turn and walk away, but a greater impulse forced her to stay where she was. Until this morning, it had been more than three weeks since she’d seen him. Three weeks since he’d held her.
Three weeks since she’d given him her body.
Her heart ached with a desperation to tell him that she knew what they planned; that she’d overheard their conversation. Every fiber of her being urged her to tell him not to chance going near Basil Ellsworth again. The voice inside her wanted to tell him that there had to be another way. That they would search until they formed another plan that would force Lord Cavanaugh to reveal how much of what was happening at The Dove he was aware of.
But she didn’t know what that plan might be.
She watched as Nick came close, then stopped in front of her.
“Good evening, Lady Winnifred.”
He looked down on her, his dark eyes gleaming, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. The two creases on his cheeks deepened.
Winnie’s heart shifted in her breast. “Mr. Stillman. Thank you for coming.”
“Your father issued a special invitation this morning. I could hardly refuse.”
“Have you been well?” she asked.
His smile broadened. “Yes, thank you. And you?”
“Very well. Thank you for asking.”
Winnie couldn’t shift her gaze away from him. And he didn’t seem able to look away from her. Yet neither of them spoke. It was as if they’d gone so long without seeing each other they were content with gazing at one another. Finally, Nick spoke.
“Walk with me.” He held out his hand. “We need to talk.”
Winnie placed her hand on his arm and walked with him through the open doors that led to the terrace. When they reached the steps descending to the garden, Nick didn’t stop, but led her down the three steps.
Winnie knew it wasn’t wise to go so far away from the house, but she would have followed him to the end of the earth if he’d led her there.
When they reached a small pond in the center of the garden, he stopped. “Why did you refuse to see me, Winnie?”
Winnie took several big breaths. What could she say to him? How could she explain? “Because I thought it would be best if we didn’t see each other again. I thought I could forget you if I didn’t see you for a while.”
“Did it work?”
She clutched her hands in front of her and shook her head. “I can’t stop thinking of you, Nick. I can’t stop wondering where you are. What you’re doing. Whether or not you’re in danger.” She turned away from him before he saw the wetness in her eyes and looked out over the water. “I wondered if your back had healed. If you had someone to put salve on it. If it pained you much.”
“Do you know what I wondered?” He stepped up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I wondered if you thought of me a fraction as much as I thought of you. If my face appeared every time you closed your eyes, like your face appeared to me. If you were able to feel my lips against yours like I felt yours against mine. But most of all, if you relived the magical time we made love as often as I did.”
Nick brought her up against him. “I’ve missed you, Winnie. The last three weeks have been the longest, hardest weeks of my life.”
A tiny cry that she couldn’t stop escaped into the nighttime darkness.
He turned her in his arms and she went willingly. He lowered his head and she met him halfway. He pressed his lips against hers and she answered his kiss with a desperation that frightened her.
She’d dreamed of being in his arms again. Dreamed of his kisses. Every warning she’d issued to herself flew away on the wind. Maybe tomorrow she’d be strong enough to remember the threat he was to her. Maybe in a few days she’d have the courage to walk away from him. Maybe next week she’d be brave enough to remember the danger he posed to her mother, and to her family, and she’d have the resolve to turn her back on him.
But not now. Not tonight. Not until she knew he’d be safe.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close to her. This is what she’d waited for. This is what she’d craved since she’d left him. This is what she’d been desperate to experience again. What she wasn’t sure she could live without.
He kissed her again. Then again. Then he lifted his mouth from hers and nestled her against him.
“Don’t ever do that to me again, Winnie. I’m not sure I can survive thinking I’d lost you.”
Winnie stayed in his arms, but she didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. He would survive losing her. Somehow. Just as she’d survive losing him. Just not now. Not tonight. Or tomorrow. But soon.
As soon as she made sure Nick was no longer in danger. As soon as he’d accomplished his goal of shutting The Soiled Dove down, and had put Ellsworth and Willard where they could never hurt anyone again.
“I need to return,” she said. “Father will announce Anne’s betrothal soon.”
He held out his arm and she placed her hand on it. He placed his palm over her hand and gently squeezed her fingers.
They walked back into the ballroom just as the Duke of Townsend was escorting Anne to the dais. The Earl of Montroy followed, and stood beside Anne as their father announced their betrothal.
The crowd cheered at the end of her father’s speech, and the orchestra struck a waltz.
Lord Montroy led his intended to the dance floor and the crowd gave them several minutes as the center of attention before they joined them.
“May I have this dance?” he asked.
Winnie couldn’t refuse him. She knew she should, but she couldn’t. For just this
once, she’d allow herself to think that this is what her life would be like if her mother weren’t a murderer. She’d allow herself to believe that tonight was a fairytale night, and tomorrow would never come. That The Soiled Dove didn’t exist and that she’d thought of a way to keep him safe.
But her mother was guilty of murder. And tomorrow night Nick would put himself in danger to destroy the men that ran The Dove. And she didn’t have a plan in mind to stop it from happening.
When the dance ended, Nick escorted her to where Benjamin and Rachael stood at the side of the room. She tried to join in their conversation, but her heart ached too much to pretend nothing was wrong. She excused herself and went up to the retiring room, desperately needing to be alone for a few minutes.
The room was empty, as was a small adjoining room with a settee large enough for someone to lie down if they felt ill. Winnie sat down, knowing if someone did come into the first room, they probably wouldn’t even notice she was there.
It wasn’t long before the door opened and a group of females entered the first room. Their laughter and gaiety made the ache in her breast hurt all the more.
She didn’t know who the females were, and was determined to ignore them—until they mentioned The Soiled Dove.
“Should we attend The Dove tonight, or wait until tomorrow night?” one of them asked.
Winnie wasn’t sure, but she thought the speaker was Lady Blanche, the Earl of Shurman’s daughter.
“No, not tonight. My dance card is full and I don’t want leave until the very last minute. Lord Carlyle asked for the last set.”
“I don’t want to risk going there tonight, either,” a second female said. “Viscount Humphrey asked to partner me for the last set, and I wouldn’t dream of missing the opportunity to dance with him.”
Winnie was certain the speaker was Miss Constance Fortney. The nasal tone to her voice left little room for doubt.
“I can’t go tonight, either, but I’m going tomorrow night, whether any of you go or not. I saw the most gorgeous bonnet in Madam Justine’s window and simply must have it. The only way I’ll get it is if I earn enough money at the tables.”
Winnie sat up. Her heart beat a steady rhythm in her chest. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she recognized the voice.
“What’s the matter, Emmaline? Did your father put a halt to your spending?” Constance Fortney asked on a giggle.
“Yes. He and Mother had words when the bills came for the new gowns Mother ordered for tonight’s ball. Father said we had enough gowns to attire half of London Society, and Mother argued that we couldn’t possibly be seen at the Duke of Townsend’s ball in gowns we’d worn before.”
“Who won the argument?” Lady Blanche asked.
“Mother, of course.”
“Of course,” Constance Fortney said. “Everyone knows Lord Cavanaugh can’t deny his daughters anything.”
“That’s usually the case,” Lady Emmaline said. “But now isn’t the time to push him on the matter. And I simply must have that bonnet. It’s too special to think of anyone else wearing it.”
“Then we’ll meet at The Dove tomorrow night,” Lady Blanche said. “Hopefully your luck will be better than the last time you were there, Emmaline. You almost lost more than you could cover.”
“I have more incentive,” the Earl of Cavanaugh’s daughter said as the trio headed for the door. “I have to win enough to buy that bonnet.”
Winnie sat where she was for several minutes. She’d been given a way to keep Nick from facing Ellsworth in the box.
If only she were brave enough to risk doing what her plan required.
CHAPTER 21
Nick chose to wear a mask tonight. The reason was obvious. He couldn’t risk Ellsworth recognizing him until the last minute. And that wouldn’t come until Winnie’s brother arrived with Lord Cavanaugh.
Nick walked through the lower level of The Dove checking out each table. There were no empty chairs, but that wasn’t unusual. It was still early. A place at a table would open up when one of the players lost as much money as he or she could afford to lose. Then Nick would take their place.
He wended his way through the crowd, searching for an ideal spot. His goal was to lose, and lose big, so he needed to find a table where the stakes were higher. Where the players were taking more chances with the amounts they wagered.
It took a little searching, but he finally found the table he wanted.
A large crowd had already gathered to watch the players, which meant something of interest was going on. Which meant the wagers were high enough to draw a group of onlookers.
The chairs were occupied by three women and one man. Nick recognized the man immediately. It was Viscount Bainburn’s son. From the small amount of chips in front of him, it appeared he’d already lost a great deal. Perhaps he would be the first to throw in his cards.
One of the ladies at the table was familiar to Nick. She was older than the others, and wasn’t particularly talented when it came to cards. Nor did she have a great deal of luck on average. But she enjoyed the game and he’d seen her here often.
The other two females were unfamiliar to him.
They both had hair almost the same shade of red, one a natural color. The other obviously a wig. They both took the game seriously, the natural redhead worrying her lower lip each time she had to make a decision as to what to do.
The bewigged female was a much more experienced gambler. Nick watched her for several hands. Not once did she show signs of being affected by nerves. He was in awe of players who exhibited such control. It was obvious that she wasn’t a novice.
He only knew one female who showed such restraint, such control of her actions. But the female in front of him couldn’t be her. Her treatment the last time she’d been here had frightened her enough to force her to think twice before even considering returning. She’d vowed she would never return to The Dove, and he’d believed her.
Only a fool would return to The Dove after what had happened the last time she was here. And Winnie was no fool.
He watched the players play several more hands. The older woman won two hands, and the bewigged female won the rest.
Baron Bainburn’s son was nearly out of chips, as was the redhead, but she dug into her reticule and, with a heavy sigh, placed more chips on the table in front of her.
It was evident that the bewigged redhead had no intention of giving up anytime soon. Her goal was obviously to win as much as she could, or to force the other players at the table to lose every pound they’d come with. And so far she’d succeeded.
After a few more losing hands, the older female threw in her cards and slid back her chair. A young dandy immediately took her place, boasting that he intended to change the bewigged player’s streak of good luck.
Nick knew he should have moved faster to take the woman’s place, but something told him to wait. A voice inside his head warned him to observe what was happening instead of joining in.
He crossed his hands over his chest and leaned a shoulder against the wall to watch. And the longer he watched, the more certain he was that what was unfolding in front of him was part of a grander scheme.
He focused his gaze on the bewigged female, waiting for her to glance up. He wanted her to look at him. Wanted to see her eyes. He was desperate to assure himself that the pinpricks of fear stabbing his flesh weren’t anything to be concerned over. But most of all, he needed to know that who he dreaded most finding at the table wasn’t who was actually there.
The players played another hand, then another. Viscount Bainburn’s son lost a staggering amount. The young dandy lost nearly as much. The redhead lost a great deal. And the bewigged redhead gathered in her winnings.
That’s when the atmosphere in the room changed.
Basil Ellsworth walked through the room, his henchmen following behind him. He didn’t stop until he neared the table with the bewigged female. Shortly after, Harvey Willard descended the stairs to join him.
One blast of fear after another exploded inside Nick’s chest. He wanted the female wearing the wig to look up. He needed to see her eyes. Maybe they weren’t a deep brown as dark and rich as the finest chocolate. Maybe they were a blue like the sky. Or maybe an emerald green. But the fear eating away at Nick’s insides convinced him that when looked up at him, he’d be staring into Winnie’s eyes.
Wagers were placed on the next hand. The dandy made a respectable wager, but nothing that indicated he had a winning hand. Viscount Bainburn’s son studied his cards for a few moments, then reluctantly placed them face up on the table and slunk back in his chair. It was obvious he wanted to continue, but he didn’t have the chips to wager more, and he didn’t want to risk going into the box with Ellsworth.
Then it was the mysterious female’s turn. With barely a glance at her cards, the bewigged redhead slid a large amount of chips to the center of the table.
Then, it was the natural redhead’s turn. She worried her lower lip as she studied her cards. Her blue eyes gleamed with excitement, with anticipation. The cards she held in her hand were obviously good. It was evident from the expression on her face.
In a move filled with confidence, she pushed every chip in front of her to the center of the table.
“Are you sure you want to do that, my lady?” the dandy said in a soft inquiring voice. “You know what will happen if you lose.”
Nick admired the dandy for issuing the warning and hoped the fiery redhead would listen to him. But she didn’t.
With a lift of her chin she leveled him a sharp gaze. “I know what I’m doing.”
“I hope so,” was all the dandy said, then he turned his attention to the other female.
The bewigged redhead pushed enough chips to the center to see the other female’s bid. Then sat back and waited.
The fiery redhead’s pursed lips spread to a grin behind her mask as she placed her cards on the table. Her cards were excellent—two tens.
Without any show of emotion, the bewigged player looked at her own cards for several moments.