Her Wanton Wager

by Grace Callaway

  Percy's voice drew everyone's attention. A perfect distraction. Gavin tensed, his muscles readied to spring.

  "Mr. Kingsley and I both know that 'twas you who torched the flash house that night," she continued in a clear voice. "'Twas you who left Mr. Hunt to take the blame."

  Magnus set the fire? Shock paralyzed Gavin.

  "It was you? How ... how did you know to be there that night?" Morgan said.

  Magnus's gaze turned sly. "I suppose there's no harm in you knowing the truth before you die. I'd been watching the house for some time. Waiting for the opportunity to get Grimes—eye for an eye, as the saying goes." He laughed mirthlessly. "Then one night I caught an unusual sight: Grime's favorite boy escaping out of his master's window."

  Grooves of tension bracketed Morgan's mouth.

  "Knowing how much Grimes enjoyed his nightly entertainments, I guessed one of two things had happened: either Grimes had fallen down dead drunk ... or the boy had somehow incapacitated his master. Either way, my golden chance had arrived. I entered through the back entrance, went up to Grimes' quarters, and there I found my nemesis ..."—Magnus paused—"alive."

  Gavin's breath came faster.

  Morgan rasped, "That's not possible. I stabbed Grimes in the chest."

  "Aye, and after all these years, I get to thank you for your assistance. You'd missed the bastard's heart, but injured him enough so that he couldn't put up a fight. So that he had to watch, to suffer"—a maddened glow lit Magnus' eyes—"while I carved his heart out."

  "I ... I didn't kill him?" Morgan said hoarsely.

  "That pleasure was mine." Satisfaction oozed from the old man's voice. "When I finished with him, I wanted no trace left of Grimes or my deeds that night. So I set the place aflame. Imagine my delight when a boy was later apprehended and jailed in my stead."

  Gavin was shaking now. Hold on. Don't lose control—

  "I had the perfect alibi: a boy who thought he'd killed Grimes, and another blamed for the fire. Fate does enjoy herself at our expense, however. I nearly fell off my chair when I learned from my spy that Hunt was the boy who'd served for arson. For years, I'd been doing business with the man whose life I had ruined." Shaking his head in wonderment, Magnus said, "I knew that if you and Hunt ever got together, the truth would come out. I realized then that I had loose ends to tie."

  "The attack at Vauxhall ... that was you?" Gavin managed.

  "That bungled attempt was Kingsley's own doing. I approached him afterward, helped him to get rid of Lyon and O'Brien." Magnus gave his partner a meaningful look. "Kingsley, you need my help to take over Covent Garden, so get out of my way."

  "Your past is your problem." Kingsley raised his pistol at Magnus. "Drop the blade. I'm not losing ten thousand pounds over your stupidity."

  The knife clattered to the ground. Magnus said calmly, "You'll be sorry for double-crossing me Kingsley."

  "Tie him up," Kingsley ordered.

  In a quick movement, Magnus grabbed the lamp off the table. Held it above his head. "Anyone comes near me, and you'll all die. For years, linseed has soaked into the walls and floors of this place, and I added more for good measure … combined with gunpowder." A devious smile crossed his face. "I drop this,"—the fire shook in his hand—"and the place explodes."

  "You're insane." Looking pale, Kingsley held out a hand. "Give me that."

  "Shoot me, and I'll drop it," Magnus said.

  Seeing his opportunity, Gavin sprang and caught Kingsley by surprise, wrenching back the other man's weapon arm. Kingsley yelped in pain, dropping the pistol. Gavin pressed the lethal edge of glass against the man's throat.

  "Tell your men to drop their weapons," he snarled. "Those on the second floor—toss your arms down the steps." To show he meant business, he let the glass slice deeper, releasing blood.

  "For God's sake, do as he says!" Kingsley cried.

  Weapons rained to the floor. Morgan rolled to Magnus' fallen knife, freeing himself in an instant. He grabbed a pair of pistols. "On the floor, hands behind your back," he ordered. Once he had the guards subdued, he strode to Percy and cut through her bonds. Without a word, she scooped up weapons and ran over to Gavin.

  "Here you go," she said.

  Their gazes held. So much I want to say to you. Soon, love.

  He took the pistol from her, kept it trained on Kingsley as he addressed the man responsible for his suffering. "Game's finished, Magnus," he said. "We have the place surrounded. Put down that lamp, and I'll let you live."

  A crazed look came into Magnus' eyes. "I'll take the other option." And he threw the lamp toward Gavin's feet.

  Glass smashed. A roar filled the room, sucking the air from it. Gavin yelled out Percy's name the instant an explosion rocked the room. The force hurtled him backward into the air. The ground fell free beneath him, and he slammed into darkness.

  THIRTY-NINE

  Pulse racing, Percy stumbled through the black haze, coughing as thick smoke choked her lungs. The whole place was ablaze—she couldn't see past the wall of flames rising higher and higher. "Gavin, where are you?" she shouted.

  "Percy?"

  Her head whipped around at the faint sound of her name. Where had it come from? Then she saw it: a crater in the floor. Rushing over, she peered over the smoldering edge. "Thank goodness," she cried, spying Gavin sprawled on the floor below. "I'll be right there."

  "No! Don't come down—"

  Ignoring him, she lowered herself over the edge, a pile of splintered wood breaking her landing. She scrambled to him. "We've got to get out of here."

  He shook his head. "Can't. I'm trapped."

  'Twas then that she saw the toppled pillar pinning his left leg. Dashing over, she pushed at the wood beam. It didn't budge. Cursing, she tried harder, shoving with all her might.

  "Percy, there's no time. Look at me." The urgency in his voice made her obey. His eyes glittered in his soot-streaked face. "I want you to go. Now."

  "I'm not leaving you." Perspiration dripped from her forehead as she shouted, "Help! Can anyone hear me? We're down here in the basement!"

  "It's no use. The building could blow at any minute," he bit out. "You have to run."

  "Not without you." She scanned the room for anything she could use as a lever. Perhaps the fire iron ...

  "I love you, Percy," he said in guttural tones.

  The stark certainty in his eyes made her heart beat faster, if possible. The man had dashed bad timing. "I love you, too," she said. "Now we have to find a way—"

  His hand cupped her cheek. "If you love me, do as I say. I've never begged anyone for anything, but I'm begging you—leave me," he rasped. "Let me die in peace, knowing you are safe."

  "No," she said, tears clouding her eyes.

  "Percy! Where are you?"

  She jumped up in relief. "Nick!" she shouted. "Over here by the stairs! Be careful—there's a hole in the floor."

  Seconds later, Nick's soot-covered face appeared over the edge. "Hold on, I'm coming down." He landed on his feet and swiftly assessed the situation. "I'm going to lift the pillar as much as I can. Percy, you pull Hunt free. On the count of three."

  Percy positioned herself next to Gavin's trapped leg as Nick gripped the wood beam on the opposite side.

  "One ... two ... three." Nick's powerful shoulders flexed. Sweat dripped down his face as he strained to move the heavy wood. The beam inched upward ... Gavin used his good leg to shove away, Percy helping to drag his injured limb free. An instant later, the pillar crashed to the ground again.

  Percy threw her arms around Gavin's neck. "Are you alright?" she cried.

  His hand tangled in her hair. "Shh, love, I'm fine." His voice hoarsened. "Morgan … my thanks."

  "Time for that later," Nicholas said. "Can you walk?"

  Gavin grimaced as he tried to move his left leg. "Don't think so."

  "I'll help you," Nick said decisively. "First we'll have to figure out how to hoist you up." They all looked upward into floor above, a
hellish inferno of swirling fire and smoke.

  Then Percy remembered. "They kept me here in the basement earlier. There was a door, leading outside. I think I saw The Thames."

  "Back of the building," Nick said. "Let's go."

  Between the three of them, they managed to get Gavin on his feet. With one arm around Nick's shoulders and Nick's arm around his waist, Gavin managed to limp along. Percy led the way, clearing the way of fallen debris, navigating around the growing flames. At last, they came to the familiar room at the end of the corridor.

  "Over there." Racing over to the door, Percy wrenched it open. The three of them struggled up the steps ... and into chaos.

  The battle outside raged as fiercely as the fire within. Gavin's men and The Thames River Police were fighting valiantly against Kingsley's brutes, but they were far outnumbered. Percy called out a warning as villains surrounded Mr. Kent, knives flashing.

  Setting Gavin onto the gravel, Nicholas ordered, "Stay with Hunt, Percy. I've got to help Kent."

  "You'll stay right where you are, my lord." Kingsley appeared from behind them, his hair singed and a pistol in each hand. "I've got Hunt and Harteford," he shouted. "Throw down your weapons, or I'll put holes in them both."

  The fighting slowly came to a halt. Kingsley's men corralled the others, who stood back to back, their glances wary.

  "Now that that's settled," Kingsley said, "I believe you the price for your freedom has just gone up. Fifteen thousand, Harteford."

  Nicholas gave a terse nod. "Whatever you say."

  "Forget it, Morgan," Gavin said. "He's going to kill us anyway."

  Kingsley cocked his pistol. "Shut your mouth, Hunt. I've a mind to dispense with you for all the trouble you've caused."

  Just as Percy moved to shield Gavin, the thunderous sound of horses broke through the night. A procession of carriages sped in their direction and formed a circle around them. Enormous ebony steeds pawed at the ground; from the windows of the vehicles, men in greatcoats aimed pistols at all of them. A liveried footman scurried to let down the steps of the main carriage, a monstrously elegant equipage of gleaming black and inlaid mother-of-pearl.

  A man wearing a grey wig and the fashion of the last century descended. Barrel-chested and short, he nonetheless had an incontrovertible air of command. He pointed the jeweled knob of his walking stick at Kingsley.

  "Wh-what are you doing here?" Kingsley stammered. All bravado had fled him, and his voice shook with fear.

  Who is this man? Percy wondered.

  "Is that any way to greet your own father-in-law?" The newcomer approached Kingsley, his tone deep and menacing. "Then again, it appears you're lackin' in respect for my family in general."

  "I—I don't know what you mean, sir. If you're referring to this incursion," Kingsley said, his eyes darting side to side, "I meant to surprise you with my prowess. I've a fortune coming from tonight, one which I'll of course be splitting with—"

  "Ain't talkin' 'bout money. Talkin' about my Mavis. The treasure I entrusted you with."

  Kingsley paled. "I've made her happy. Ask her yourself. When she returns from Bath—"

  "That's the one blessing in all o' this, I suppose. What my baby doesn't know won't hurt 'er." The stranger sighed. "She'll mourn, poor dove, but she'll find true love the next time. I'll see to that."

  "You crazy old bastard. You're not getting rid of me," Kingsley snarled, raising his pistol.

  A shot rang through the night. Kingsley fell to the ground, screaming as blood gushed from his arm. Smoke rose from the pistol of the guard atop the main carriage. Two other men came forward and dragged Kingsley, struggling and cursing, into one of the other conveyances. The door closed, and he was heard no more.

  Mr. Kent spoke first. "We must attend to the fire."

  Black waved his walking stick, and his men dashed to help the others gather buckets and water from the river. Mr. Kent started to follow, but stopped. He turned with his shoulders hunched.

  "Mr. Black, if I may ask," he said, "where is Lady Draven?"

  Black glowered at him. "Dropped 'er off at 'ome, o' course. Don't think I'd bring a fine lady as that to a place like this?"

  "No, of course not," Kent said in a tight voice. "Obliged, sir."

  With a stiff nod, the investigator loped off to assist with the fire.

  Nicholas stepped forward and bowed. "Thank you, Mr. Black. I am in your debt."

  The man looked him up and down. A grin broke across his face. "A marquess, bowing to me. Ain't that priceless." Chuckling, he peered down at Gavin, who remained sitting on the ground. "What about you, Hunt? Ain't you going to make a leg for me, too?"

  "It'd be half a leg and a bloody one at that," Gavin said.

  Black laughed until he wiped at his eyes. "I've 'eard about you, Hunt. Liked most o' what I 'eard, too. Don't suppose you'd be browsin' the marriage mart?"

  "Oh no, sir," Percy blurted. As all eyes turned to her, her cheeks warmed. "That is, Mr. Hunt is otherwise engaged. Um, to me."

  "That so, Hunt?" Black's brows nearly reached his wig.

  "Not quite," Gavin said. Percy's breath stopped, found a hitched rhythm when he continued in a grave voice, "Miss Fines, would you have a seat next to me, please?"

  Mesmerized by the burnished intensity in his eyes, she did as he asked.

  He took her hand in his own. "I said once I wouldn't go down on bended knee. But I want you to know I would for you, if it wasn't for this leg." Though ruddy color spread over his cheekbones, he shot a defiant look at their audience and added, "And I don't give a damn who knows it."

  She nodded, joy welling in her eyes.

  "I want to do this right this time. I don't have a poet's tongue or fancy words to declare myself," he said, "and there's still no violins. All I can do is beg your forgiveness for my mistakes. For not trusting you when I should have. For being so bloody stupid and letting you go."

  "I understand, Gavin," she said. "Truly, I do."

  "I don't deserve you, Percy." When she tried to protest, he cupped her cheek, pressing his thumb against her lips. "You're too good for me, love, there's no denying it. You're brave and loyal, so damnably sweet—you light all the dark corners of my soul." Emotion glittered in his eyes. "In return, you'd be taking on a scoundrel, scarred inside and out, who didn't even know he had a heart until he met you."

  "You have a heart, Gavin. You always have," she sniffled.

  "It beats only for you. And I swear that if you will have me, Percy, I will never give you cause to regret that decision. I will love and protect you until the day I die," he said fiercely.

  Her tears overflowed.

  Gripping her hand, he said, "Will you marry me, Persephone Fines? Will you accept me as I am now? Knowing that I will strive to be a better man, to one day be the husband you deserve?"

  "Oh, Gavin," she whispered, "I love you exactly as you are."

  "Then ... you'll have me?"

  She adored the note of wonder in his tone. "Yes," she said, smiling through her tears, "a thousand times, yes."

  He gathered her in his arms, and the kiss they shared shot fireworks across the sky. An orchestra played, the world rocked on its axis ... though perhaps that last part was due to Mr. Black's impatient thumping of his walking stick against the ground.

  "Chit's got pluck, I'll give 'er that." With a grunt, Black warned, "You'll 'ave your 'ands full, Hunt."

  "I wouldn't have it any other way," Gavin said, giving her a squeeze.

  "Well, my Mavis might need a bit o' female companionship when she returns. Ain't much genteel company in the stews. Maybe you'll 'ave 'er for tea one o' these days?"

  Percy sensed it wasn't a question. She was filled with too much gratitude to care. "Of course, Mr. Black," she said sincerely. "I should love to meet your daughter."

  He nodded. "I'll go see about Magnus."

  Gavin stilled. "You have him?"

  "Caught him alongside the road. Old goat caused quite a bit o' trouble for me, and I p
lanned to teach 'im a lesson." Black shrugged. "But if you want 'im, 'e's yours."

  Percy felt the quivering tension pass through Gavin. She didn't fool herself about the world her husband-to-be came from and wouldn't blame him for whatever choice he made. He had suffered so much because of Magnus.

  Yet would more bloodshed bring him peace?

  Gavin exhaled slowly. "I'll take him. Over to the magistrates."

  "Charleys, eh? Well, 'tis your business." Snorting, Black started back toward his carriage, his voice drifting back. "Off we go, boys—an' to all a good night."

  "What about your revenge, Hunt?" Nicholas asked.

  "The past has been laid to rest—all of it." Clearing his throat, Gavin looked up at Nick and extended his hand. Nick took it. Percy thought her heart couldn't get any fuller, yet it did to see two of the men she loved most find peace with their past ... and one another.

  The moment passed, and both men coughed and look away.

  "Well, I suppose that's for the best," Nicholas said, "as it appears we are to be family."

  "I have your permission, then?" Percy said brightly.

  Nick gave her a wry look. "Would it matter?"

  "Not at all. But I was hoping you might help persuade Mama," she admitted.

  "Don't worry about your mother, love," Gavin said, pulling her close. "I'll speak for myself. In fact, I already have a speech planned."

  "You do? Whatever will you say?"

  His tender smile sent joy skipping through her. "I'll tell her that I don't begrudge a moment of my past because all of it led me to you. That I thought I wanted revenge, but all I've ever needed is your love." He paused, and that wicked gleam she loved entered his eyes. "And I'll thank her for giving me permission to wed you in a proper ceremony. To spare me the inconvenience of having to cart you off like your namesake."

  Percy choked back a laugh at the none-too-subtle threat. "You wouldn't really do that, would you?"

  "I'll do anything to have you, buttercup," he said solemnly. "Mine, remember?"

  "Mine, too," she said and, still smiling, pulled him close for a kiss.

  FORTY