How to Best a Marquess (Raven Club), page 18
And Hugh.
A hand landed on her arm. She knew who it was before he turned her around. Hugh’s face was tight as he stared down at her. She should feel hatred, yet she felt only sadness.
“I never meant for this to happen, Ellie.”
Anger bubbled in her veins along with awareness of the man. She despised her reaction toward him. She jerked free of his hold. “Liar! What did you think would happen?”
“I had no choice. I saw you leave the club yesterday and overheard you speak with Violet Lasher. Baron Willoughby hired a private investigator. Even knowing how unstable and dangerous the baron is, you plan on handling him yourself. And you agreed to continue to work with Violet Lasher.”
He’d heard her conversation? “You fool! I was going to accept your proposal and inform you of our meeting.”
His brow creased. “Am I supposed to believe this?”
“It’s true, but you didn’t trust me, did you? You needed to control the situation—to once again do what you thought was best—without consulting me. You have not learned or changed your ways. And—once again—I will suffer for my lack of judgment!”
He reached for her once again. “Ellie—”
She swiftly stepped back. “No. Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me again. You have what you wanted. The Raven. And you’ve guaranteed my protection by banishing me to the country. There is nothing left.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she whirled and ran. She sprinted through the halls, not caring about the servants who gaped, and made it to her upstairs bedchamber and slammed the door. She managed to sag against the wood before the first hot tear trickled down her cheek.
…
She despised him.
How could he have made matters disintegrate so swiftly between them?
A sourness settled in the pit of Hugh’s stomach during the entire carriage ride back to the Raven Club. He went directly to the boxing room.
She was going to say yes, to tell him she’d met with Violet and that the baron was still a threat, to trust him.
Bloody hell.
He scanned the large room for someone to fight. No one was around except for two young boys who swept the floor.
Tossing his jacket onto a chair, he savagely worked loose the knot of his cravat and tugged his shirt over his head. Both pieces joined his jacket. He grasped the steel bar above the doorway and began pulling himself up, then down. He counted to fifty, then kept going. Soon, his arms screamed in protest. He ignored the pain.
After overhearing Ellie’s conversation with Violet, he’d done what he’d had to do, what he’d believed was right. He’d thought about his decision for countless hours before he found himself in the Earl of Castleton’s study. Hugh’s motivations for confronting Ian had nothing to do with the club, but rather Ellie’s safety.
She needed to end her association with Violet Lasher. Christ, it was dangerous enough to send Baron Willoughby’s wife off into the country, but to face the deranged man once again and to continue to work with Violet was downright reckless.
Dammit. The woman did not have a bone of self-preservation in her body.
If Ellie had won the club and Hugh went on his way, who would protect her? Who would know to? Without his help, eventually her luck would run out.
His nerves tensed at the thought of Ellie threatened or worse, injured. The baron would stop at nothing to find his wife. His jaw clenched as his fingers tightened on the bar, and he continued to pull himself up, then lower his weight.
Yes, he’d been convinced his visit to Ian was necessary. It didn’t matter if she hated him. With Ellie ensconced in the country, she’d be safe from a madman.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ellie was in a torment of misery. She sat at her dressing table, cradled her head in her hands, dug her fingers into her hair, and cried. She tried not to look at the trunks in the corner of her room. She’d stay until after the birth of Grace’s babe, but meanwhile, her maid had been helping her pack.
Hugh might not have told her brother the specifics, but Ian would learn the truth. She had no doubt that he would soon learn everything—her partnership with Violet Lasher, the secret bedchamber, the extent of their efforts in sending Lady Willoughby away from her abusive husband.
Her life was over. She’d never step foot into the Raven Club, never hear the crack of the dice on the hazard table, the spinning of a roulette wheel, never watch a boxing match. She’d never see the growing success of her efforts. Never maintain a ledger. Never experience the freedom of donning a mask, concealing one’s identity, and roaming an exciting underworld of pleasure.
When would she learn? Why must she fall prey to a pair of green eyes and a charming smile? The pain in her heart became a fiery gnawing.
He was a rake of the worst sort.
And she had allowed herself to trust him, to love him, to hope for a future with him once again.
Idiot.
She’d be relegated to the country, grow old strolling the gardens in the earldom’s vast estate, and no doubt die of boredom.
To think, she had been so close to achieving her dreams of independence. If the Marquess of Deveril had never set foot in the ring, had never barged into her life and seduced and betrayed her, she would not be in this position.
Tears ran down her cheeks. She hadn’t been a weeping female since she was eighteen and Hugh had broken her heart.
Twice now she’d cried. Both times had been because of the same man.
When would she ever learn?
He’d won. He’d come for the Raven and would leave with it. She was left with nothing but a bleak future. And a broken heart.
Despite everything, she had fallen in love with the man.
Fool. He had never truly wanted her.
A low knock sounded on her door. “Go away.”
“It’s me. Olivia.”
Her sister opened the door and took one look at her. “Oh, Ellie. Did the marquess do it again?”
“He asked me to marry him.”
“He did?”
“It’s not what you think. He only asked because he believes it’s the only way to protect me. And when that didn’t work, he told Ian I was involved in dangerous activity.”
“Were you?”
“Yes. But that’s not the point. He thinks he can control me, that he knows what’s right for me. Just like he did years ago when he arranged for me to find him kissing Isabelle.” She hiccupped as fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “How can I hate him and love him at the same time? What does that say about me?”
“Oh, Ellie,” Olivia said again.
Ellie’s response was a muffled sob. Olivia sat on the edge of the bed and hugged her as she wept.
…
“The Raven Club is officially yours.”
Hugh glanced at the document in his hands. He was in the office of the Raven Club with his solicitor, Mr. Isaac Greenstone, and Lord Castleton. Moments before, he’d signed his name on the deed.
He’d won.
Yet he felt wretched, as if he’d lost something much more valuable.
“I trust you are satisfied with the terms?” Lord Castleton said.
Hugh shifted in his seat before the large desk. He felt suddenly parched and eyed the sideboard in the corner of the room. He nodded, aware of Castleton and Mr. Greenstone watching him. “Yes, I will run it as you had.”
“If you need advice about the day-to-day activities, I am not far. Brooks has agreed to remain as your employee. He is an invaluable source of information as well,” Ian said.
“Thank you.”
Ian stood then went to the window overlooking the casino floor. “I will miss this place.”
Hugh pushed back his chair and stood. “You are welcome at any time.”
“I know.” Castleton turned and extended his right hand. Hugh shook it.
Not a man to mince words, Castleton headed for the door.
“Wait,” Hugh said. “Your sister. What is to become of her?”
The earl’s expression was tight as he faced Hugh. “She is going to my country seat. If it were up to me, she would leave immediately. But Lady Castleton wants her to stay until the babe is born, then depart.”
“For how long will she be gone?”
“Indefinitely.”
Hugh stared at him in shock. “You cannot be serious.”
“What is it to you? She rejected your proposal. If it weren’t for your concern, I would not have discovered what Ellie was up to. Christ. Dealing with a renowned courtesan. Smuggling a baron’s wife out of London. Baron Willoughby will be relentless and will use every means at his disposal to find his wife. I’ll need to have men watching him.”
“Ellie meant well.”
“She knew better.” Castleton’s lips thinned.
“I believe you are being too harsh,” Hugh said. This wasn’t what he wanted. Never had he intended to banish her from London, from her sister Olivia, from her friends, from everything she’d ever known.
Castleton’s mouth took on an unpleasant twist. “Leave it, Deveril. She is not your wife, man, but my sister. I will do as I wish. Now excuse me. I must return to my wife.” He opened the door, then departed.
Hugh stood and walked to the sideboard. He reached for a crystal decanter, noticed it was near empty, then went to the door, wrenched it open, and called out. A young lad immediately approached. “Yes, me lord.”
“Whisky.”
Hugh found himself back in the ring with Bear. To be fair, he’d challenged the giant to a rematch. Only this time, Hugh had drunk one too many glasses of whisky. He hadn’t been sober in a week.
His footwork was slow, and he gasped when Bear’s uppercut made contact. Hugh fell to a knee, gasping and sweating. He relished the pain, felt he deserved it and more.
The crowd went wild, cheering and yelling for more.
Hugh felt bile rise in his throat.
Don’t puke on your own boots.
He pulled himself to his feet. He jabbed and hit Bear in the stomach, but his movements felt slow and awkward.
His heart wasn’t in the fight.
His heart wasn’t in anything.
He’d spent a week dissolute and drowning his win of the Raven Club in a bottle. He hadn’t shaved and had been short with his employees. He knew his croupiers and servers weren’t thrilled with the new owner. He’d heard the whispers of disgruntlement and disgust.
Brooks had watched, hadn’t said a word. Damned bastard. The man looked at him as if he knew the truth and he didn’t like—or worse, respect—what he saw. He was right.
Ellie would suffer because of him. She’d be sent to the country, never to return to town again, never to experience another season or the excitement of the Raven Club. Her dreams of financial independence shattered.
The blow caught him off guard, and he landed on his back. He struggled to his feet, wanting more, wanting the punishment he deserved, when a loud shout halted Bear.
“Stop!”
The crowd booed but parted and fell silent as the Earl of Castleton, the formidable former owner of the Raven, stepped in the ring himself and hauled Hugh to his feet.
“Have you lost your mind?” Ian growled in his ear.
“Sod off.”
“I would, but you’ve done it yourself. Get yourself together, Deveril. You are the owner of this establishment.”
At the wave of Castleton’s hand, Bear stepped out of the ring and the crowd dispersed.
Ian dragged Hugh to a wooden stool and reached for a metal cup and dipped it in a bucket of water. Hugh reached out for the drink, but Ian didn’t hand it to him. He threw it into his face instead.
Hugh sputtered. “What the hell!”
“You need to sober up. You have standards to uphold. Christ, if I knew you’d act like this, I would have given the place to Ellie.”
Hugh glowered. “Maybe you should have.”
“Don’t be daft. Brooks told me you’d been acting like an ass.”
Brooks. He should have known. The man’s loyalty would always lie with Castleton.
“Stop drinking. If not, you will find yourself robbed blind by your workers or patrons,” Ian said.
“I’ll be fine.” Hugh dragged a hand across his forehead, wiping the water away. “Has Ellie left town?”
Ian glared at him, his dark eyes watching him. “No. Not until after the birth.”
Hugh wanted to see her. Desperately. Ever since he’d won, he kept telling himself that the outcome was right. Even if things had not ended up the way he’d liked, the country was safe. The club only held danger for Ellie. The baron still posed a risk, and Hugh had no doubt that she would have continued where she left off with Violet Lasher if she had won. It was a mantra he kept repeating to himself.
“Why are you here? Because of Brooks?” Hugh barked.
“No. To warn you. I’ve had men watching Baron Willoughby. Word is the baron knows that someone at the Raven Club is responsible for his wife’s disappearance. You need to be on guard.”
Hugh sat upright, suddenly alert. “Where’s Ellie now?”
“Safe at home.”
Hugh sagged in relief. She was in Castleton’s home, away from the club and danger. Brooks appeared in the doorway. “Castleton, there is a message for you.” He handed the earl a missive.
Ian unfolded the foolscap and his face paled a shade. “My God. It’s time.”
“Time for what?” Hugh asked.
“The birth. Summon my carriage!”
“Wait! We should tell Ellie,” Hugh said. “To make her aware of the baron’s knowledge until she leaves town.”
Ian’s fingers tightened on the missive. “Come along then. You tell her. I’ll be with my wife.”
Hugh was by Castleton’s side as they left the club and traveled to the earl’s townhouse. As soon as they stepped into the vestibule, the earl took flight up the stairs to where his countess was in labor.
Hugh caught a glimpse of his reflection in a gilded mirror on the vestibule wall and cringed at what he saw. His normally immaculate attire was disheveled. His cravat was loosely tied. His hair was mussed from repeatedly running his fingers through it. He had the growth of stubble on his face.
In short, he looked like a wastrel.
He should have been satisfied with his win. Instead, he was miserable.
He glanced up the winding staircase in hopes Ellie would make an appearance. Just a glimpse of her would suffice to satisfy the ache in Hugh’s chest. She may want nothing to do with him, but Baron Willoughby was a threat, and he had to see her, to warn her. Hugh didn’t waste another second.
“Where is Lady Ellie?” he asked the butler.
“She is out shopping with her sister, Lady Olivia.”
This was not what Hugh wanted to hear. If Baron Willoughby knew the Raven Club was involved with the disappearance of his wife, then he knew Ellie was involved in the subterfuge as well.
“Where did they go?” His voice was tense.
“I’m not certain, my lord. I would guess they’d frequent the shops on Bond Street.”
Hugh was down the porch stairs before the butler could blink. He had a bad feeling in his gut. If Ellie wasn’t safely within her brother’s home, then she could be in trouble.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Shopping can uplift a lady’s spirits like nothing else,” Olivia said.
“I hardly think a new bonnet will help.” At the expectant look on her sister’s face, Ellie lightened her tone. “But I do believe spending an afternoon with my sister shopping for bonnets is a splendid idea.”
Olivia’s brow eased, and she smiled. “I didn’t have the milliners in mind.” She hooked her arm through Ellie’s and urged her down Bond Street.
Ellie was not in the mood for shopping, but she did not want to disappoint her sister. She was also aware that her days in town were limited, and she wanted to spend as much time with Olivia as she could.
Her heart sank. She’d no longer see Olivia on a daily basis but would have to wait until her family traveled to the country to see her sister. How awful.
They came to a shop, and Ellie glanced at the sign above the door. “Phillips Jewelers?”
“I’d like to purchase something special,” Olivia said.
A departing patron opened the shop door, and the two sisters swept inside. The jeweler was busy helping a gentleman with a selection of snuffboxes. Displays on counters and tables captivated Ellie, and she wasn’t sure where to look first. Necklaces, earrings, and bracelets of precious and semiprecious jewels of diamonds, pearls, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, amethysts, and topaz were nestled on black velvet trays. Snuffboxes with lids that could incorporate a tiny portrait of one’s spouse were displayed on tables throughout the shop. Ellie wondered if Ian would like another snuffbox with Grace’s image. A table was laden with a full dinner service of silver plates. Another held cameo brooches and lockets.
Olivia waved for Ellie to join her in the corner of the shop where a selection of letter openers was displayed. Some were plain with simple silver handles; others were inscribed and their handles encrusted with jewels.
“I thought to get you a letter opener so that you can open all the letters I plan to write you.”
Ellie’s eyes welled. “That’s so thoughtful.”
Olivia touched her arm. “Oh, Ellie. I didn’t mean for you to cry.”
Ellie shook her head. “I’m crying with happiness now.”
“I promise to write every day. And I shall visit often. Ian will tire of me asking to see you and will no doubt relent at my persistence.”
A tear slipped down Ellie’s cheek. “I will look forward to each treasured letter and every visit.” Her fingers grazed the displayed letter openers. “You pick one.”
Olivia selected one with a jeweled handle made of opal. As they waited for the shopkeeper to finish with his customer, the shop’s bell chimed, and a man clad in a coat and beaver hat with the brim pulled down low entered and went to the back. Ellie paid him little heed as the shopkeeper raised his head to smile at the sisters and motion them to the counter to pay. He covered the sharp tip of the letter opener with a piece of cloth. Rather than carry a wrapped package, Ellie slipped her small purchase into her reticule.
