by Jade Lee
“Perfectly sure,” she answered. “I’ve seen everything I care to see in this place. Come along, Wendy. It’s time to leave.”
Wendy nodded, but she didn’t move. Her gaze turned anguished. “Lord Hartfell, why don’t you take her home? I think the air is bad here.”
“Can’t,” the Scot answered. “Seems someone’s threatened his grace’s life.”
He watched the news hit Damon, his body tensing in surprise. “What? Who?” Then his face hardened as he glanced to Wendy. “What did you say?”
She frowned as she turned to look at the man. “You said…”
Radley watched as her face closed down with frustration. He saw her hands tighten into fists, but there was no more protest. Was she cowed? Was she afraid? Or was something else going on?
“Please come over here, Wendy,” he said. Whatever was going on, he didn’t want her within the bastard’s reach.
She started to move, but then froze, her gaze slipping back to Damon, as if asking permission. A second later, he realized it wasn’t permission. It was assuming a position of power—one where she kept both men in sight—as she faced the bastard.
“What do you want to end this, Damon? To just… let them all go?”
Damon’s expression shifted into dismay. “Negotiating for your lover’s life? Sacrificing yourself for him?” He shifted his gaze to Radley. “Sadly, none of it’s true. Little Wendy has quite the flair for the dramatic, and I’m afraid we’ve been victims of her fascination with gothic novels.”
She gasped. “That’s not true!”
“But of course, it is. Your grace, I have no intention of harming you.” He made an expansive gesture. “Welcome to my club. Please feel free to play.”
“Stop it!” Wendy cried, and he was sure there were tears shimmering in her eyes. “You told me you’d kill him. You told me! And you hurt Caroline. And you…” Her words choked off.
If anything, Damon looked sad. “I did hurt Caroline, and that is a crime for which I can never atone.” His gaze shifted to Caroline. “I offered you wine, did I not?”
“You were going to break her hand,” Wendy hissed.
Damon reared back. “Break her hand? Damnation, Wendy, do you hear yourself? How can you expect any rational man to believe you?”
“Because it’s true,” Wendy said as she shifted to Caroline. “You slapped him, and he doesn’t allow that. I’ve seen him hurt people,” she cried. “Everyone knows what he can do.”
“Wendy, really,” Damon said with clear irritation.
Then Damon pushed off the railing, setting her glove aside, as if it were of no more importance than yesterday’s cravat. Radley tensed, ready for anything, but not moving until he understood more of what was going on. And right now, he comprehended little.
“And yes, I do hurt people,” Damon admitted. “It’s a necessity in my business. But Wendy,” he said as he gently pulled her to face him. “I love you. You know this.”
“Stop it!” she cried as she wrenched from his arms.
He let her go, his expression infinitely sad. Then he slowly shifted to look at Radley. “I do not know what lies she has told you. I can only say that I would be a fool to threaten a duke.” He gestured about him. “I have created a good life for myself here, but it is subject to the whims of society. Should any member of the ton take umbrage with me, they could close my doors. Or they could simply take their coin to a different hell. I would be a fool to risk that.”
Wendy gaped. “You bragged not more than a week ago. You told me how you meant to end the elite. That you did more for London than Prinny!”
“That’s treason, Wendy.” He huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face. “Are you so afraid of love that you must make me out a monster?” Again, he tried to touch her, and again, she threw him off. It was a pattern he’d seen before, so Radley disregarded it. His concern was more in the words “a week ago.” Just how long had they been having conversations like that? How well did she know this bastard?
He stepped forward and brandished his purse. That was what delayed him from the ball. He’d had to find enough coin to pay off her debt.
“Wendy said she owed you money.”
Damon lifted his hands. “Her brother owes me. She has been helping to pay his debts.” He shot Wendy a tolerant glare. “Which could have happened much earlier, if she would work when she promises.” He grimaced. “She deals vingt-et-un, and I pay her an excellent wage. Far more than what her talents are worth, but…” He shrugged, as if to say, I love her. What else can I do?
Meanwhile, Wendy stiffened. “I have made every shift, save one.”
He didn’t argue. His expression suggested that he would not stoop to bicker over dates and times. Instead, he looked to Radley.
“It is kind of you to pay off her brother’s debt, but I assure you, they both need the lesson. Bernard works for me as well, and he’s learning to control his need to gamble. As for Wendy, she likes it here. Pay it off or not, she will be back.”
“I hate it here!” she hissed.
“And yet, you have favorite customers who dote on your every word. Men who constantly plague me as to when you will next appear.” He looked to Radley. “She loves the attention.” He sighed. “And she loves rubbing it in my face as well.”
Could it be true? Could Wendy be so different from everything he’d thought? He glanced to his sister. “How easily did you come here? Were you stopped by guards? Anyone?”
Caroline shook her head. “We came in a back way, and they all know her here. They call her the Green Lady.”
As if realizing that he wavered, Wendy stepped toward him, her expression desperate. “Everything he says is a lie. You have to believe me. I’ve seen him do terrible things. You know what he has done.”
He did. Every time he looked at his sister’s high-necked gowns, he remembered the scars underneath. But even at seventeen, Radley hadn’t been able to bring himself to kill Damon. He’d beaten the bastard nearly dead, but murder was beyond him then. It was still, apparently, because he felt no desire to gut someone who appeared more rational than the woman begging him to understand.
Meanwhile, Damon was speaking, his tone and appearance that of a man burdened by terrible guilt. “I cannot undo the crime I committed as a boy. I was wild and foolish, and I regretted it then, even as I did that terrible thing.” He turned to Caroline. “Whatever you want of me, just ask. I will give it to you freely. If I could undo that night, I would. You cannot know how sorry I am.”
Radley looked at his sister as she shook her head. “I want nothing from you.” He heard the finality in her words. There was no lingering fear, no hatred, and no terrible emotions whatsoever. Just a simple end to something that happened years ago. He could not say the same, and yet, she was the victim. He certainly couldn’t murder a man who showed every appearance of regretting his crime.
Damon bowed his head with total humility. “I… I thank you. I never dared hope you could forgive me. I don’t ask it. But that I haven’t destroyed your life is… is a great comfort to me.”
The Scot’s answer rumbled through the air. “She does not say it to comfort you.”
“Of course not,” Damon replied. “I didn’t mean to imply such a notion.” Then he turned back to Wendy. “What do you mean to do now, my dear? Will you stay and deal? Already, there are gentlemen lining up at your table.”
Radley looked over the railing to the floor below. There was one table that sat empty, though easily a dozen gentlemen loitered nearby. Was that where Wendy worked? Did she entertain such a group on a regular basis? The very idea made him sick.
His gaze returned to her. She looked like she was collapsing in on herself. He wanted to believe that she was exactly as she appeared: a woman under terrible strain, exploited by a monster. The urge to rush to her side was strong. But he was beginning to doubt her. After all, he’d asked her to come to him, but she’d chosen instead to stand on her own. And there were a dozen men down
there waiting for her. Just what had she been doing?
“What do you want of me, Damon? What would it take?” she asked.
The bastard touched her cheek, stroking it slowly as his fingers went from jaw to cheek to her bloodied earbobs. “You know what I want, love. Stay with me.” He touched her chin, lifting it to look at her. “Marry me.”
Radley felt more than saw her breath catch, as if everything had been stilled to a frozen silence. She just… stopped. So did he. So did everyone there as they strained to hear her answer.
And waited. And waited.
She didn’t answer. It was as if she couldn’t.
In the end, Damon sighed and looked at Radley. “You do not believe that I am innocent yet. Of course, whatever she’s said would be convincing.” He tilted his head. “Have you asked about her earbobs? Shall I tell you how she got them?”
Wendy did react to that. She let out a soft moan as she sank to her knees. At first, he thought she had collapsed, but Damon went with her, cradling her as she dropped. Had she fallen into his arms? Did she welcome the man’s touch? He didn’t know, and his doubt kept him immobile while Damon continued to talk—this time to her.
“Shall I tell him, my dear? It really is better if the truth comes out.”
She didn’t answer, and so the demon kept speaking as if he’d never paused.
“She stole them. From a customer at her first place of employment. Then she sold them, so she and Lady Redhill could start their shop.”
Caroline gasped. “Lady Redhill? But she couldn’t…”
“Well, as to that, I believe Lady Redhill’s father—”
“Helaine didn’t know,” Wendy cried. The words were loud, easily drowning out whatever Damon was going to say.
Radley could see that the words were to cover another secret. Something about Lady Redhill—or maybe her father—that Wendy didn’t want to get out. But that confession alone told him two things, both chilling. First, Wendy had stolen the earbobs—or done something illegal with them—and second, she had more secrets, more lies that she was trying to cover up.
Radley took a step forward, needing to come closer so that he could see Wendy’s face and understand what was going on. “If she sold them to start her shop, then how is it that she has them?” he challenged.
Damon smiled, the expression wistful. “Well, I found out, of course. There is plenty of information that flows through these halls. I discovered the truth, found the buyer, repaid him, and then…” He shrugged, as if embarrassed. “I gave them to Wendy as a gift. That’s why she’s wearing them now.” His gaze lifted to Radley, and his eyes slowly went cold. “She wears them now, your grace, because deep down, she prefers me.”
Radley looked to the emeralds, then to Wendy’s face. Her eyes were dull, her expression like stone. Was that true? Did she wear the earrings out of love… for Damon?
“He needs to hear it said out loud, my love,” said Damon. Then, when Wendy didn’t respond, he touched her chin, lifting her face up. “Did I or did I not give you those earrings?”
“Don’t make me do this,” she said, her voice a hoarse rasp. “You cannot make me—”
Damon’s voice hardened. “Tell the truth, or suffer the consequences. You know I cannot abide a liar.”
Radley wasn’t a fool. He knew there was a subtle threat in the man’s tone. Knew as well that they were surrounded by guards. He’d already counted his opponents, but he judged the danger as relatively small. Both he and Lord Hartfell were armed and knew how to defend themselves. Any attack would be a bloodbath, and neither side would benefit. Damon couldn’t take the risk. The death of a duke in this public place? That would draw too much attention.
Unfortunately, any fight would mean danger to the women. Radley hadn’t liked that risk, but then he wasn’t the one who brought them here. Wendy had. Fortunately, he knew the Scot would protect Caroline, just as he would protect Wendy. And again, he returned to the obvious conclusion. Damon was a logical man who ran a lucrative business. He simply would not risk a bloody confrontation now.
So that brought them back to the central question. Was this an elaborate game created in Wendy’s mind?
He grimaced, sinking down so that he faced Wendy. “Just tell me the truth,” he said. “It is safe.”
She winced, and he knew she didn’t believe him. He couldn’t help that. Afraid or not, he needed to know more. But he was able to glare at Damon.
“Step back.”
The man lifted his hand in a surrendering gesture and backed away. Wendy was now on the floor, a woman collapsed into a puddle of shimmering blue.
“Don’t be afraid, just tell me. Is what he said true? Did you steal the emeralds?” She’d already admitted as much. She would answer, and he would see how she looked when she told the truth.
“Yes,” she whispered, her gaze dropping in what he thought might be shame. “We needed… I didn’t have…” She bit her lip. “Yes, I stole them. Helaine didn’t know anything about it.”
“And you sold them to start your shop?”
She didn’t speak this time. She just nodded.
Now came the more important questions. “And Damon found them somehow? He gave them to you?”
She swallowed. “This morning after…”
“After you missed your shift last night. At the vingt-et-un table?” She had told him as much last night. He knew she’d had someplace to be, but he’d wanted her in his bed. In that, at least, he bore at least as much responsibility as she.
“Yes,” she said, and he saw her eyes flicker as she said it. Was she remembering what they’d shared last night? He hoped so. He hoped she was thinking of how they’d loved one another and was gaining strength from it.
Now came the real question. “I know I just returned. I know matters are unsettled between us, but we cannot go ahead without settling the past.” He glanced at his sister, taking another look to reassure himself that she had moved on from what she’d suffered at Damon’s hand.
Without Radley speaking the question aloud, Caroline answered with a firm voice. “I just want to go home,” she said. The Scot gave a quiet nod, seconding his fiancée’s wish.
So that past was done. Now, all that remained was Wendy.
“You don’t have to say you wish to be with me, Wendy. But the man has proposed to you.” He couldn’t bring himself to say the bastard’s name. “If you wish to be rid of him, simply give him back his gift. I have coin to pay Bernard’s debt, so you need not fear on that. If you want to leave this place, then take out the earrings.”
Her eyes welled with misery. “It’s not that simple,” she whispered.
“Of course it is.”
In the background, Damon made a sharp gesture. Radley had kept an eye on him, so he saw it for what it was. The man was gesturing to his guards. A moment later, all the menacing men on the upper deck had moved away and down the stairs. Damon now stood unprotected. He even spread his hands to show that he had no weapons. And in case there was any doubt, he spoke, his tone clear and almost gentle.
“You are safe, Wendy. No one will harm you no matter what you say, but his grace is correct. I need an answer. All you need do is take out the earrings, and I will know your choice.”
She stilled at the man’s words, not even moving her eyes to look at him. He was to the side—not quite out of her vision—but Radley was watching. She didn’t look anywhere but at a fixed spot seven inches in front.
Frowning, he moved until he was directly in her line of vision. “Wendy. Just take them out.”
She couldn’t meet his gaze. “I can’t.”
Two words, but they froze him to his soul. She couldn’t. Then her gaze did flicker, and she lurched forward.
“He is more dangerous than you think.”
So she was still afraid. Of course she was. He could see it in her body though all the guards had been sent away. “Have some faith in me, Wendy.”
He could tell she wanted to. He saw her take in
a ragged breath, but in the end, she stopped. Her breath was cut off, and her gaze dropped away.
“I… can’t.” She seemed to deflate before his eyes. “Go now, while you still can. You have your answer. Damon will not allow your insult to last much longer.”
He didn’t move, still too shocked by her choice. That wasn’t a problem for the bastard. Damon had heard her answer, even though her words had been barely audible. He knew what she had said, so he knelt beside her, his expression triumphant.
“Come, love, this is a happy moment.” Damon gently turned her face to his. She went easily with no more resistance than a rag doll. “We will marry!”
He held her then, their gazes locked for an excruciatingly long time. And then, the unthinkable happened. The man bent his head to hers.
He took his time, while Radley squatted no more than a foot away and watched. The bastard pressed his lips to hers. A soft touch that lasted an eternity. Then more. Radley watched in disgust as the man wrapped his arm behind Wendy’s back, slowly drawing her to her feet without breaking the seal of their lips.
Radley moved as well, straightening, unable to look away. Damon and Wendy rose while the bastard deepened the kiss. He must be incredibly strong, Radley thought, to lift her like that—so smoothly—when she was no more than a flopped creature in his arms.
Then he broke the kiss and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Such is not the kiss of a true fiancée,” he rasped. “I have lost patience with you, my dear. Either prove that you want this, or I shall take back the earrings, and you shall see what is left to you.”
Radley saw the shudder that racked her body. Saw the release that came from those words. Would she do it now? Would she take out those damned earbobs and throw them at his feet? She had thrown her glove at him, so he knew she had the strength of will. If she were truly afraid, she would.
She didn’t.
Instead, she twined her arms around the bastard. Radley could see she was shaking, but he remembered too well how she had trembled in his arms too. How her body had shaken before she finally gave in to his kiss, his touch…
She kissed Damon. Not a slow press of the lips, not a chaste twining of arms and mouths. She kissed Damon with her whole body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, she pressed her groin against the bastard’s obvious erection, and she opened her mouth. He wasted no time in restraint. With a grunt of satisfaction, the man wrapped his arms around her and bent her back. Even Radley could see that he plundered her mouth, stroked her backside, and rolled his cock against her.