Tempting Danger: Sinclair and Raven series

by Vella, Wendy

  Dear lord, she hoped he encountered no trouble, as Alice didn’t think she could live with herself if that was the case. Especially considering how much he was already suffering just walking in through the front door.

  “Lord Braithwaite, it is a pleasure to have your company in our establishment once more.” He was speaking to someone.

  “My visit will be brief, Mr. Hedges. If you’ll excuse me, I am here to collect someone.”

  His voice was cool and calm, as she knew his eyes would be. But what was really going on inside Nicholas Braithwaite’s head? The guilt nearly choked her.

  “He said I was reckless and naive. In fact, he said quite a few things, Kitty.”

  “Did he? Well, he’s possibly right, but I think spirit is vital in a young woman.

  Oh dear.”

  Alice watched Kitty close the curtains quickly.

  “What have you seen?”

  “Don’t look out there!” The words were a furious whisper.

  “Why not?” As the words left her mouth, the carriage door was thrown open.

  “God’s blood, Alice Sinclair!”

  “Dear lord, I am doomed.” There in the doorway stood her brother. Big, dangerous, and in a towering rage.

  “W-Wolf?”

  He climbed in, followed by James and Cam.

  “Stay outside, Dev, there is not enough room,” Wolf snarled.

  Alice had seen this particular version of her brother precisely three times in her lifetime, and each moment was etched in her memory.

  “Speak now, and by God you had better make it good!” He sounded like thunder rolling in over the meadows of her home.

  “Firstly, I tricked both Kitty and Bids, so they are not to blame.”

  “Of that I have little doubt.”

  “I was not tricked,” Kitty scoffed, clearly not cowed by Wolf.

  “Kitty,” he warned.

  “She was safe the entire time and has virtuous reasons for being here, Wolf. I would ask you to hear her out.”

  “This should be good.” He folded his arms. James and Cam remained silent, their eyes on her. Cam, however, winked.

  “Barty is in trouble and inside that gambling establishment,” Alice said. “Verity wrote to me several times with her worries. I talked with him and saw her concerns were founded, yet he would not consider returning home. Her last letter spoke of her desperation that her brother had landed in danger in this place, and that he had nearly spent all their money. I came here and heard him inside.”

  “And what were you going to do with that knowledge?”

  “Ah... well, as to that—”

  “Speak!”

  “Don’t yell at me!”

  “I am furious with you! We”—he jammed a finger into his chest, then pointed at James and Cam—“were in a business meeting, and I felt the fear that something had happened to you... was about to happen to you. Not Kate, as she does not constantly challenge me... yet.”

  “Really?” Kitty looked intrigued and excited. Alice felt ill.

  “We don’t have time for this. You have to go into that place and bring Nicholas and Barty out because—”

  “Nicholas is in there?” Cam’s expression was suddenly alert. “Why?”

  “I asked him to—”

  “What?” Wolf roared at her.

  “H-he was passing and saw Bids. He found me and demanded I leave. I asked him to go and get Barty.”

  “You did what?” Wolf roared at her again, disgust clear on his face.

  “When I realized that the prospect of entering Bastil’s upset him, I told him not to. But he said he would... said he needed to.”

  “Dear Christ,” Cam hissed, looking fierce. “We must go to him at once.”

  “Why?” She grabbed Wolf as he began to follow the others back out the door.

  “Because he will be suffering the worst hell imaginable, and it is you who has sent him there, Alice.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The last time Nicholas had walked into this particular hell he’d been drunk and ready to lose as much money as he could. His respect for himself and anyone else in his life was nonexistent, and he was bent on self-destruction.

  He had many weaknesses, as did most people, but his two gravest were alcohol and gambling. He’d lost his way at the age of twenty with the death of his father and not found his way out until many years later. The gambling fever had nearly destroyed him.

  At first he’d frequented the acceptable places, those that noblemen were seen at, then, when he’d wanted more excitement, more depravity, Nicholas had gone deeper into hell, to places such as this one.

  The interior had changed little: dark paneling, faded burgundy curtains that hung closed at the windows. The gas lamps were new and added to the general air of despair. The place reeked of it, even at such an hour. Reeked of lost fortunes and tortured souls. Many lives had been lost within these walls. He was just lucky his had not been one of them.

  The tension inside him climbed as he proceeded slowly along the halls. Stepping inside the first room, he looked at the table. No one matching Bartholomew Stillwater sat in here.

  He could do this for her, Alice, and for himself. Do this and save Barty as he’d been saved. But then he would never come back again.

  “Good God, tell me it is an apparition?”

  The only face he knew at the table had once been an acquaintance of Nicholas’s; he’d fooled himself at the time they were even friends. After all, the man had held his coat while he threw up the entire contents of his stomach in a potted plant upon many occasions.

  “Braeburn.” Nicholas nodded.

  “Take a seat, Braithwaite, we are one short.”

  Tall, and as always, elegant. The years of debauchery had not really caught up with Niall Braeburn as yet. But they would, given time; no one could sustain this lifestyle and remain unaffected. The son of an earl, he was simply waiting for the man to die so he could waste away his inheritance.

  “I am not here to gamble. Good day.”

  “Not gamble? Surely you jest? There is little else to do here.”

  The four other men at the table tittered. Nicholas turned to leave.

  “Come, Braithwaite, we are playing whist, your particular favorite. If memory serves, no one could best you at it, drunk or sober, which you appear to be now,” Braeburn taunted.

  Nicholas looked at the cards and the empty seat. He wanted to sit and play, wanted to feel that rush of blood. His mind started to run through the rules. Shuffling, dealing, taking tricks. Trump, lead, it ran though his head with ruthlessly efficiency, as if he had just played a hand yesterday.

  I cannot allow it, as I can see just the thought of entering that place distresses you.

  He heard Alice speaking to him, her hand on his. Clenching his fist, he felt her touch, and it gave him strength.

  “Thank you, no, I have other business to attend to.” He walked out and drew in a deep, steadying breath.

  The next room did not yield Stillwater, so he made his way down the stairs and deep into the bowels of hell. His body was clenched so tight, he felt like he would shatter with a touch.

  Women appeared but did not approach, possibly because of the look on his face. Nicholas walked into the biggest room in the establishment. The ceilings were high and yellowed with smoke. Scanning the tables, he found Bartholomew Stillwater. Shoulders slumped, clothes looking like he’d slept in them, the man was focused on the cards in his hand with a ferocity that was familiar to Nicholas.

  It was like a fever in your blood when the gambling took hold.

  It had to be that table.

  The memory of James doing as he was slipped into his head. His cousin had been rescuing Cambridge Sinclair. He remembered that night clearly, because in the darkest recesses of his mind had been a small kernel of hope that maybe someday someone would rescue him.

  It hadn’t come then, but it had come... thank God.

  Eyes turned to watch him as he walked
. A few called out to him; not all the comments were pleasant. In fact, most were insults. He’d turned away from this, the brotherhood of hell, as he’d once termed it. He’d walked away and never looked back... until now.

  “Gentlemen, you’ll excuse me, please, I have business with Stillwater.”

  The man’s head shot up to look at Nicholas. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and he was struggling to focus.

  Barty tends to come untucked easily.

  Alice had said that. Pretty, intelligent Alice Sinclair, for whom he had decided to walk through this den of depravity. Thinking of her gave him strength, even as he wished her to hell for it.

  “I don’t know you.”

  The words were said slowly, as if the effort of speaking was too great.

  “Your sister sent me.”

  The man jerked upright in his chair.

  “Verity?” He looked around the room. “Is she here?”

  “She is not, and one would hope you have no wish for that.” Nicholas kept Barty’s eyes on him. “Come now, Bartholomew, it is time to leave.”

  “Take your meddling ways out of here, Braithwaite!” These words came from Lord Hardy, the man seated to the left of Stillwater.

  “Stay out of this, Hardy.”

  “I will not. Just because you have become a sniveling turncoat does not mean Stillwater here is the same.”

  The blessed heat of temper began to melt the ice-cold fear in his veins that had accompanied him into Bastil’s.

  “Turncoat is an interesting turn of phrase, wouldn’t you say, Hardy. Considering what you did in Whites that evening many years ago?”

  “I say, there was no truth in that rumor!” the man blustered.

  “Oh, I think there was, as you have ended up here and are not welcome in any reputable establishments. So sit in your seat and shut your mouth.” Nicholas kept his eyes on Bartholomew.

  “You’ve no right to speak to me like that!”

  The rumble of discontent started to grow, and soon men had climbed from their seats to stand around the table. Nicholas was outnumbered, he knew that, but he wasn’t leaving without Bartholomew Stillwater.

  If not for Alice, then he’d save the man for himself... and me, Nicholas thought.

  “Come here, Stillwater.”

  Barty looked confused, his eyes going from left to right and then settling on the hand of cards he held.

  “Do you wish to lose everything in your life? Family and respect are included in that,” Nicholas said. “Do you wish to send your sister and mother to the poorhouse?”

  “We have no wish for your meddling ways in here, Braithwaite. Just because you have lost the ability to be a man does not mean we have.”

  Braeburn arrived and moved to stand behind Stillwater, effectively trapping him in his seat.

  “Go back to your new friends... or should I say family,” Braeburn taunted. “Those unusual Sinclairs and a duke who has no right to carry the title. They deal in trade, unlike the real noblemen of this world. They are a disgrace to their title.”

  “Disgrace is an interesting term,” Nicholas said. “I had a conversation with my cousin, the duke you claim has no rights to his title. He said your father, the current Earl of Braeburn, used that exact term when describing you. Disgrace to your family was how he worded your behavior. Said if it was in his power, he would disinherit you, but as he can’t he’s going to live as long as he can to thwart you.”

  Braeburn’s face mottled with rage.

  Nicholas could handle any slur upon his character, as most of them he’d deserved at one time or other, but not his family. They had saved him, and in doing so forgiven him. Their belief in Nicholas was absolute, even if he did not believe in himself.

  “A word of advice going forward, Braeburn. Be careful what you say about my family. Very careful, as an insult to them is an insult to me, and I will seek retribution.”

  They’d told him he was family, and today he needed to believe it. He felt stronger because of them.

  “Family!” Braeburn scoffed. “They should be run out of London. Merchants and bastards, and let’s not forget about a distant daughter raised in Scotland who worked in a teashop!”

  “You know a great deal about my family for someone who professes disgust.”

  “I know I want nothing to do with them!”

  “Excellent, we are in agreement then. We want nothing to do with you either. Come, Stillwater, we are leaving.”

  “He stays!” Braeburn roared, red in the face.

  “I think I should go... Verity—”

  “You are a man, Stillwater. No woman should dictate your movements.” Braeburn put a hand on his shoulder and held him down. He then nodded to someone, and Nicholas turned to find four men at his back.

  “Remove him at once, and make sure he is taught never to return to a place where he is no longer welcome.”

  The men advanced.

  “I say, this is a club for gentlemen. There should be none of that in here,” a voice said as Nicholas rose onto his toes.

  Keep moving. Attack first.

  “Seems the numbers are weighted heavily against you, cousin. Perhaps we could even things up?”

  Nicholas turned to find Wolf, James, Cam, and Dev behind the men. Again they had appeared when he needed them.

  “Stand down!” The words came from the club’s manager, a small, weaselly-looking man Nicholas had always disliked. The men walked away, leaving his family standing at his back.

  “Braeburn, why am I not surprised to find you at the root of this,” Cam said.

  Like Nicholas, Cam would be facing his demons in Bastil’s.

  “Stillwater, come here,” Nicholas stated. “Now.”

  Braeburn still stood at the man’s back, blocking his ability to rise from his chair. In two strides Nicholas was there, grabbing the peer by the collar and wrenching him to one side, away from Stillwater.

  “You are a sniveling individual with the morals of a rat, Braeburn. My family have more good in their little fingers than you have in your entire body. You’re a disgraceful human who offers nothing to anyone. A leech on your family, and a worthless bully.”

  Nicholas pushed him hard, sending him backward into a chair that toppled over. He landed hard on his ass.

  “Let’s go, Stillwater.”

  The man must have seen something in Nicholas’s eyes, because he scrambled to his feet in haste.

  “Does he owe anyone any money?”

  Three men nodded.

  “Come and see me; I will clear his debts.” Nicholas grabbed the man by the shoulder and propelled him out the room. James, Dev, Wolf, and Cam followed on his heels.

  “This situation seems familiar,” Cam drawled.

  “Quite,” Nicholas replied. “Many thanks again. I have no idea why you are here but am grateful for it.”

  “Do you remember what we talked about the other day?” Dev said.

  “The senses?”

  “Yes. Wolf felt there was danger and that Alice was involved in some way.”

  “She is safe.”

  “I know.” Wolf grunted. “Please forgive her for placing you in this position, Nicholas, I will see she understands the ramifications of her actions.”

  “There is no need—”

  “There is every need,” Wolf gritted out.

  As they were walking out the door, Nicholas said nothing further but had a feeling that life was about to get extremely trying for Alice Sinclair.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Alice sat in the breakfast parlor alone, stirring her tea for the tenth time.

  She had managed to avoid Nicholas for two weeks due to the fact she could hear if he was near. Well, that wasn’t quite true. It was unusual, but for some reason her hearing was not as sharp when he was close. But it was still better than most.

  Having said that, she didn’t see him in the normal course of the day as he didn’t come to visit her exactly, but her family were often recipients of h
is visits. Alice had made sure not to go to gatherings that she knew he’d be at. But she could not keep doing that indefinitely or questions would be asked.

  She’d heard what had gone on inside that gambling hell and was ashamed of what she’d forced him, and her family, to do.

  Wolf had traveled back to the house that night in their carriage, and the silence had been so thick with tension even Kitty hadn’t tried to break it. Once there, he’d left to help Barty back to his lodgings. All he’d said to her was, “Get into the house, and this time stay there.”

  He had not yelled or lectured, only talked when he’d returned home. He’d spoken of many things, but the one that had stuck with her had been the fact that she could not meddle in people’s lives and expect the consequences to come out in everyone’s favor.

  Alice had never thought of herself as meddlesome. She’d thought she was helpful and studious, but on the whole a good person. It seemed she was wrong.

  Nicholas had told her she was foolish and naive, and that had hurt also, but at the time she’d been determined to save Barty so had pushed his words to the back of her head. The cold, clear light of the following day had dragged them to the front again.

  Knowing she had forced Nicholas into that gambling hell out of duty was sobering.

  “Hello, Alice.” Rose walked in, radiating her usual happiness. Alice tried not to let that vex her, because surely it was petty of her to feel that way in the face of her brother and sister-in-law’s joy over the love they shared.

  “Good morning, Rose.”

  Rose was one of those women who was beautiful inside and out, again vexing when Alice didn’t seem to be able to get through a day without annoying someone, it seemed. Well, she had once been like that, but no more.

  That night she’d learned her lesson about doing the right thing, because the wrong thing had caused Nicholas a great deal of pain. Cam, also. And then there was the worry she’d given Wolf.

  “Alice, someone is here to see you.”

  “Who?” Dear lord, please don’t let it be Nicholas. She didn’t think she was ready to face him yet.

  “Bartholomew Stillwater. Do you wish to see him, dear?”