“You’re moving up in the world.”
“Hardly. It’s an impressive title, but it simply means I no longer walk the streets but oversee those who do.”
Jim had always been humble to a fault. Luke suspected if he were suddenly crowned king of England, he’d brush it off, saying that it simply meant he sat in a fancier chair than anyone else.
“Why did you think my reason for being here had something to do with Frannie?” Luke asked.
“Because she’s what we all have in common.”
“No, Feagan is what we all have in common.”
“But Frannie is the one we all circle around to protect.” Jim leaned forward, pressing his elbows against his thighs, holding his glass with two hands, as though he expected bad news. “So if she’s not what brought you to my door in the middle of the night, what is?”
“I need you to gather some information for me.”
Jim leaned back, smiling confidently. “That’s where my true talent lies.”
Luke was well aware of that fact, and he intended to put James Swindler’s skills to good use. He was determined to learn the truth behind Lady Catherine Mabry’s request long before she revealed it. Knowledge was strength, and where she was concerned, Luke needed all the strength he could summon.
A gaming hell. Claybourne had brought her through the back door of a gaming hell.
Catherine was still reeling from that realization as she stood in the office doorway watching while Claybourne sought to convince a red-haired lady—who seemed
determined not to be convinced—that everything would be all right.
“Frannie, she’s going to teach you that being married to a lord is not something to be feared,” Claybourne said.
Unless one was married to the Duke of Avendale, Catherine thought wryly.
“But I don’t want this.”
They continued on, going back and forth. Catherine listened with half an ear, more intrigued by her surroundings than the conversation, even though she couldn’t see the main portion of the inside of the building. She was halfway tempted to ask for a tour.
Claybourne wanted to marry a woman who worked in a gaming hell. Who worked. In a gambling establishment. Society would never accept her. The entire situation had disaster written all over it. Still, Catherine embraced the challenge. She would not only teach her, but she would see that she was accepted into Society. It was worth it to see that Winnie was safe.
The dress Catherine wore was one she used when calling on ladies of quality. It seemed entirely inappropriate all of a sudden. What did one wear when going to a gaming establishment? She struggled not to laugh maniacally. The entire situation was simply absurd and at the same time incredibly fascinating. Winnie would absolutely die if she knew where Catherine was spending her evening.
The owner of the establishment, to whom she’d been introduced upon entering, also stood in the doorway, leaning back insolently, his arms folded across his chest, his gaze running from the top of her head to her toes and back up. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel his impudent perusal, as though it was a soft touch.
Twisting her head, she glared at Jack Dodger. “Are you pleased with what you see?”
He snapped his gaze up to hers. “Immensely.”
She allowed her gaze to wander over him, stopping for a heartbeat at the burn in the shape of a T that marred the inside of his thumb until she finally settled her gaze on his dark eyes once more. “I can’t say the same.”
His chuckle was a low thrumming purr, like that of a large cat preparing to strike. A shiver went slowly down Catherine’s spine.
“How is it that a lady of the nobility ended up with a backbone?” he asked.
“It appears you know little of the nobility, sir.”
“I know a great deal about them.” He leaned forward slightly, satisfaction in his dark eyes. “They are some of my best customers.”
She knew his sort—a troublemaker—the reason decent women needed an escort when traveling on the streets. He was attempting to shock her. She was not easily shocked. She turned her attention back to the arguing couple. “We all have our vices.”
“And what is yours, Lady Catherine?”
“None of your concern.”
