Tempting Fate

by Kerrigan Byrne

  Was there ever a woman who didn’t have to claw her way through a graveyard of shame?

  She hadn’t even done anything, and yet here it was.

  It was merely that… the look in his gunmetal eyes had been enough to melt her.

  Because she glimpsed the shame there, too.

  It was humiliation at the base of her ire. Her family thought her nothing more than a child, one to be coddled and cosseted. Lied to.

  For her own protection.

  Because she didn’t have the emotional fortitude to handle hard and frightening truths.

  They weren’t wrong. That was the worst of it. Terror overwhelmed her sometimes, dread and doubt overtook her sense of practicality until she was certain the world would stop spinning at any moment.

  It was why she escaped into her romantic fantasies. Because she had to remind herself that there were happy endings, even in those moments when her mind told her such a thing was impossible.

  Because she knew that they occurred; she’d watched it happen to her sisters with no small amount of envy.

  And she thought…

  Well, it didn’t bear consideration. It was always impossible. The massive, menacing stranger who protected her had teased those fantasies out of her imagination, and there were moments when she’d hoped that… that they might find a way.

  And because she was so naïve, so inexperienced and sheltered, it’d never occurred to her that he was a man who’d deceived his way into her home.

  Into her heart.

  The decisive knock on her door came as no surprise.

  “Come in, Mercy,” she sighed.

  Her door creaked open, and Raphael’s dark head peeked around the edge. “It isn’t Mercy, but would you allow me to speak with you for a moment?”

  Felicity took a moment to study him. Though there wasn’t more than two years’ difference in age between Gabriel and his brother, Raphael had the appearance of someone much younger. Even without the scars, Gabriel wouldn’t have been as effortlessly handsome as his brother. Whereas Gabriel’s features were brutal and striking, Raphael might as well have been the arch angel he’d been named for. A glimmer of mischief in his hazel eyes, and a charm and confidence only the devil himself might possess, made for a potently compelling combination.

  No wonder Mercy had fallen for him so quickly. They must endlessly challenge and entertain each other.

  Felicity didn’t know this man. But she ought to. And, technically, he’d done nothing to wrong her.

  “Very well, come in.” She motioned to a pair of high-backed arabesque chairs drawn close to the fireplace.

  He took one seat, and she perched on the one opposite him.

  Leaning forward, his features set in an intent and earnest expression of concern. “Let me assure you, I’m not here to talk you out of being angry with Gabriel…”

  Felicity stared into the fire. “I’m angrier at myself than anything.”

  “No, dear Felicity, there is no cause for that—”

  “I’ve met the man twice, how did I not recognize him?” she asked bitterly. “His size alone is tremendously unique.”

  “But not unheard of. You said yourself, you were allowed to believe he was dead. And surely you recall how he looked before… little more than scars clinging to a misshapen skull. His nose completely gone, his eyelid dropping so low he could barely open it. That macabre half-smile of a scar. He had to keep his hair shorn so his mask didn’t tug at it and give him terrible headaches. Now, he has a better mane than even me.”

  She’d reveled in the feel of his hair sifting through her fingers.

  “It will take time even for me to get used to him,” Raphael confided. “He doesn’t look like he did before the— his injuries. So do not punish yourself for not seeing him for who he is.”

  “You are kind,” she replied gratefully. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m so dreadfully gullible. So blind and eager. There is something very wrong with me if my entire family, including him, thought I was too stupid or too weak to know the truth.”

  Raphael sat back against the chair, plunking his head against the headrest with a rueful sigh. “I agree that keeping things from you was wrong of everyone. I would be furious in your position, because, though everyone’s intentions were based in love, it did rather denote a lack of respect. And that, in my world, is the greatest insult. Especially when you are a woman who deserves that regard.”

  His validation did a great deal to cool her tempestuous emotions.

  “After the Masquerade, everyone wanted you to remain untouched by my— and by extension Gabriel’s— intrusion into the family. Especially since it had no immediate effect on you because we were both supposed to be across the entire globe from each other. And you had so many things here to worry about.” He huffed out a sound of sardonic wonder. “I knew that Gabriel… that he was drawn to you. But I will say that no one in the world, including me, could have predicted that he would approach you. That he would take this position…”

  “He didn’t,” she admitted, plucking at a stray bit of lace on her wrapper. “Not really. Now that I think about it, I rather wrangled him inside and offered him the job without even asking for references.” Standing, she reached for the poker and stabbed at the fire. “I am a fool. He told me as much that day. I deserve everyone’s derision.”

  “Why did you hire him? This large, scarred, obviously malevolent man, devoid of charm or a pretty vocabulary, let alone a face that is a pleasure to look at.”

  “You’re being cruel to him.”

  “I’m being honest. And I’m asking you to do the same.” His words were sharp, stabbing like barbs into her back. “Do you love him?”

  She jabbed rather viciously at a glowing white log, sending sparks showering up the chimney. “How can I answer that? I don’t know him.”

  “But you know how you feel,” he pressed.

  She searched her heart, which beat like the wings of a trapped bird refusing to land. “Right now, I feel a little bit of everything, and cannot identify one particular emotion.”

  “That is fair enough.”

  At that, she turned back and reclaimed the edge of her seat. “Why did you come here?” she asked, sensing his reluctance. “If it wasn’t to plead your brother’s or your wife’s case?”

  The look he gave her was one of approval. “Do you know what happened to my brother? Why he looked the way he did— the way he does?”

  Struck by the memory of his pitiable face, she closed her eyes against a well of sorrow. “He said he was protecting someone.”

  “Me.” The word was a low lamentation. “He was protecting me. Gabriel was always so large, so fiendishly strong. When my father needed money, he put Gabriel into the fighting pits and bet on him.”

  Felicity gripped the arm of the chair, never once considering their story could be so contemptable.

  “One time,” Raphael’s gaze became unfocused as he looked into the past, “my father put me in the ring, and then bet that I would lose. I was a small lad. I could fight, but I hadn’t the brute strength or killer instinct Gabriel had developed. Upon learning of this, Gabriel locked me in a trunk and took my place in the pit. That night, someone hit Gabriel with a plank of heavy wood, and tore his nose clean off. It would have crushed me. I was all but thirteen. He was fifteen.”

  A tear fell for the boys before she even knew it had welled within.

  “And after, he still fought in the ring as a freak they dubbed the Monster of Monaco. Once my father founded the Fauves, he relieved Gabriel of the pits, but he then groomed us to be gangsters. We extorted people out of money, we beat them to keep them in line. We were beasts. We are beasts; I am merely a more elegant creature than he is.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Felicity dashed at her damp cheeks. “In hopes that I’ll forgive him? That I’ll pity him?”

  Because it was working. Her heart was an open wound. Everything he’d said before made perfect sense. He’d
been trying to warn her all along.

  And she’d been too besotted to listen.

  Raphael reached to her and took her hand. His hold reminded her of Morley’s or Titus’s. Gentle. Platonic.

  But his had a deeper, more fervent zeal behind it. “You have a soft heart, Felicity Goode. And in your world, that is an admirable quality. Gabriel, he… he has powerful feelings for you… he has since that first moment we met by the sea. And even though you are angry or hurt, I want you to trust the fact that he will die to keep you from harm. That is how we are.”

  Felicity nodded and squeezed his hand. “I believe that,” she murmured.

  “I will leave you with this one thought,” he said as his grip strengthened. “Though he will protect you, Gabriel is no shield, mon sœur. He was raised, conditioned, to be a weapon. We have a saying where I come from: You might use a spear as a cane, but that doesn’t change its destiny.”

  “Are you warning me away from him?” Felicity put a hand to her throat.

  “I’m saying that I’m not certain Gabriel knows how to do anything but hurt people. It’s all he ever knew. All he was ever good at. He’s never had a pet, let alone a lover. I don’t know if he’s divulged that to you. If you’ll excuse my forwardness, I feel you must know. It isn’t that he hasn’t lain with a woman, it’s that he’s never kissed one, touched, flirted with… nothing.” He glanced down, fighting an obvious battle within himself, as she knew he must feel as though he were breaking some sort of confidence. “I thought he never touched a woman because of how he looked, but I’m not sure that’s it, entirely…”

  “What do you think it is?” she breathed.

  “He never learned how to handle fragile things without breaking them. I think that frightens him.” Raphael asked the question as if he didn’t want the answer. “Has he… has he ever frightened you?”

  “Not once,” she said with ardent meaning. “I’ve always known I’m safe at his side, and have never needed safety from him. That’s just it…” She looked up, her eyes threatening to spill over again. “He tells me all the time he is not kind. Insists he is every sort of terrible and treacherous thing… but he’s never been anything but gentle with me.”

  Raphael’s own features tightened with emotion.

  “Because we no longer wanted to be criminals, it turned some of our men into enemies. Marco, the one who struck you, it was not confirmed that he died in the fire. We are afraid he’s behind your current need for protection. That it is Gabriel’s feelings for you that put you in danger in the first place. I don’t think you can imagine the guilt he carries for that.”

  She digested that information for a moment, shredded to bits by claws of ragged grief for what her terse protector had been through. “If only I’d have known…”

  Raphael nodded. “I agree. You should have known. But Gabriel’s protection of you was unfortunately absolute. I know my brother. He would spare you having to carry a secret. Or the fear such an enemy might impose upon you, especially when fear already seems to be your particular foe. He knows so little about women; he doesn’t realize that creatures so delicate can also demonstrate such immense strength. His greatest sin is that he underestimated you, but I feel it was done in ignorance, not condescension.”

  Felicity covered her eyes. Wishing like hell she could be different somehow. That she could have inherited only a modicum of Mercy’s boldness, Prudence’s sense of adventure, or Honoria’s courage.

  A crack of thunder ignited her frayed nerves, causing her to jump, just before the sky opened up to release a torrent of rain.

  Raphael put his hands on his thighs and pushed to his feet. “It is late. Perhaps we should rest and talk about this in the morning?”

  “Actually, I need to speak with Mercy. I’ve much to tell her.”

  He nodded. “I hope you forgive Mercy. She hated the idea from the start. It would break her heart if there were a chasm between you.”

  She nodded, loving him a little for his regard of her sister.

  “Raphael? I’m glad you’ve both come home.”

  His features softened into a lovely smile. “So am I, mon sœur.”

  She took his arm and he conducted her down the hall with all the ceremony of someone escorting a queen to court. When they passed Gabriel’s door, she hesitated but somehow knew she wouldn’t find him skulking in his room. That wasn’t his way.

  Mercy met them on the stairs, her features anxious and expectant. “Felicity, I—”

  “It’s all right.” She embraced her sister. “I’m not angry any longer.”

  “Oh good.” Mercy squeezed a little too hard. “You know I hate apologizing. I’ve never been good at it.”

  Suddenly she was so glad to have her sister back, she couldn’t decide whether to giggle or cry.

  “Where is everyone?” Mercy asked, keeping one arm locked around her as they made their way to the parlor. “I can’t even find Mrs. Winterton.”

  Felicity revealed the entire story of the letter, the poison ingested by Mrs. Winterton, her attack in the street that led her to posting the advertisement for a guard. She told them of the fight in the garden, and didn’t miss the meaningful glance between Mercy and Raphael as she recounted Gabriel’s bravery that night.

  After careful thought, she omitted the part about her fainting.

  “Where is Gabriel?” Raphael queried. “I was certain he’d be prowling close by.”

  Mercy shrugged. “He was patching a broken windowpane with planks on the glasshouse, last I saw.”

  Raphael nodded, tapping his chin in a pensive posture. “I will consult with him, but the poisoning aspect of this… it doesn’t feel like Marco. Neither does hiring others to do his wet work. If there is killing to be done, that bastard will jump at the chance to get his hands dirty every time.” He studied Felicity so intently, she swore she could hear the gears of his brain grinding away. “Tell me of this fortune you have inherited… It is common knowledge?”

  Felicity squirmed. “Yes.”

  “Have you turned down any proposals lately, from men who would be after your assets?”

  “There have been a several suitors of interest, most recently the Earl of Bainbridge. However, he proposed after I was threatened or attacked. I can’t think of what his motive would be.”

  “I can,” Mercy interjected. “He is our cousin of some distance, and an earl, besides, but I have heard he’s quite penniless. He needs an heiress.”

  “Yes, but he was honest with me about that. It’s part of why I decided we wouldn’t suit. And while he made it abundantly clear that he didn’t love me, he was nothing but cordial when I refused him.”

  Raphael stroked his angular jaw. “Bainbridge… he lives in the vicinity?”

  “He does, just on the other side of the park.”

  Nodding, he seemed to come to a conclusion. “Well, it’s important we find Marco whether he’s behind this or not. I won’t feel that either of you are safe until I’m able to spit on his grave. However, I’d like to speak to this Bainbridge.”

  “Gareth— Gabriel didn’t seem to think highly of him,” she said.

  Smirking, Raphael went to the door. “My brother has excellent instincts, though in this case, they might be a bit suspect. Perhaps we can get Morley involved, now that he’s back from the Continent.”

  At that, Felicity groaned. “I don’t want everyone to make a fuss.”

  “If your life is in danger, Felicity,” Mercy shook her elbow, “best you get used to a bit of fuss, and be glad it’s not an all-out war.”

  Felicity proffered a weak smile, deeply grateful for such a family as this, regardless of her trepidation over the attention.

  “Well, let us all get some much-needed rest, yes?” Raphael yawned, though whether in earnest or for effect, it was difficult to say.

  Felicity stood and kissed her sister goodnight, reveling in their closeness, as if one half of her had been returned. “I missed you. I’m glad you’re back.”
<
br />   “I made it back just in time, I see,” Mercy said, clinging to her. “I’ll go to hell before I see you married for anything but affection. I don’t care what Father wrote in that damned will. He was wrong. It was like a parting shot.”

  At that, Felicity tensed. “Does my fortune go to Bainbridge upon my death?”

  “No,” Mercy answered.

  “Then, who?”

  Her sister’s mouth fell open. “The solicitor said there was a list of names, but he cannot reveal them to you or to the other recipients until such time as is deemed necessary.”

  “Say someone found out…” Felicity postulated. “Shouldn’t everyone on that list be considered a suspect?”

  “Then it is the solicitor we go to first thing,” Raphael said, his eyes glittering with a dark anticipation. “We’ll make him talk.”

  Chapter 14

  Knowing sleep was impossible, Felicity stood outside Gabriel’s door for several breaths.

  She could feel him in there. A man like that carried some sort of atmosphere with him, like the current in the air before a storm broke.

  A warning, most probably, to creatures of prey.

  The effects of his nearness were familiar to her now. Little vibrations of the fine hairs on her body or a prickle of awareness washing down her spine.

  Except the thought of him devouring her made her tremble with emotions other than fear.

  I am not kind.

  He’d said that to her in the very beginning. He’d always cautioned her about who he was. And yet, it was in his very sin against her that he proved his own claim false.

  His lie was meant to be kind.

  Lifting her fist, she meant to knock at his door. But froze.

  Asking for what she wanted, what she needed, had rarely ever gone well, and Raphael’s revelations about his brother had both clarified and complicated things.

  She’d been shattered by discovery of his past. By the barbarity he’d had to endure. And she did comprehend that his hands knew no other trade than violence and crime.