Hartwick nodded.“Whites, same as his father and his grandfather before him.”
“Does he gamble?”
“Some, but not excessively.Mostly he is a sot, is what I have heard.”
Rhys stood.“Thank you for dinner.I have something to take care of.”
Hartwick lowered his eyebrows.“What do you have to take care of?”
“Don’t worry, I promised her I wouldn’t kill him.”
Lucy gasped.“You promised what?”
Rhys bent to buss her cheek.“Thanks for dinner.Don’t fret, I’m keeping an eye on Violet.”
Twenty minutes later, he slipped into the main lounge of Whites.A waiter approached him and asked if he required anything from the bar.Rhys ordered a brandy.Not that he would drink it, but it would help him blend in.He made his way slowly around the room, observing the play of cards while searching for Lord Sommerset.
Ah ha, there the bastard was; he sat in a leather wingback chair, a glass of liquor clutched in his hand.Sommerset’s eyes were bloodshot and puffy.He spoke with two other men.One man said something, and all three howled with laughter.
Rhys moved closer to the cluster of seats where the three men sat but stayed out of their sightline.Not that any of them would recognize him.He was always a ghost.
“That wench was so talented she nearly sucked my brains out through my cock,” one of the men said.
Sommerset nodded.“I told you she was a fantastic shag.”
“Thanks for passing her along.Now that you’ve got a wife, you can get shagged anytime you want.”
“Wives do not suck cock.Trust me.”Sommerset took a swallow from his glass.“Besides, I have done my duty and gotten her pregnant.I am free to take a mistress again.Although my lady does have a delicious ass.Perhaps I’ll take advantage of my marital duties tonight after all.”
His friends laughed and clinked his glass in a toast.
Rhys’s hand tightened around his own glass so hard the cut crystal bit painfully into his palm.What kind of man talked about his wife like he spoke about a prostitute?The hell you will lay one finger on your wife tonight, you prick.Rhys slipped over to the bar.He set down his glass and gave a nod to the bartender.“This isn’t to my liking.”
“I am sorry, sir.What can I pour for you instead?”
“What is Lord Sommerset drinking?He was exclaiming loudly how excellent it was.”
The bartender’s expression soured briefly as he glanced over at Sommerset.“He always drinks Armagnac.”
“I’ll have that, then.”
“Right away, sir.”
After taking the glass of Armagnac, Rhys discreetly pulled a thin metal vial from the inside of his jacket.Lowering the glass below the lip of the bar, he poured about half of the sleeping powder into the brandy.He swirled the liquid in the glass, watching it dissolve, and examined why he was so angry on behalf of a woman he barely knew.
Rhys prided himself on his cold control, but everything about Violet Sommerset sent his emotions rising to the surface.Fear for her safety, rage at her worthless husband hurting her.Surely that was it.Who wouldn’t be angry at a man who would hit a pregnant woman?A man who would disrespect his wife openly in front of others?At least for tonight, Violet wouldn’t have to worry about being subjected to that sack of shit.He turned and leaned his elbow against the bar, waiting for his opportunity.Less than ten minutes later, it came as Sommerset put down his empty glass on the side table next to him.Rhys strolled past and, as easy as pie, switched the glasses.
Rhys stayed long enough to see Sommerset reach absently for his glass.The man didn’t even blink twice at the full glass at his elbow, simply picking it up and taking a deep gulp.Either he was too drunk to question the fresh glass, or the service here was so reliable that he wasn’t surprised to have his glass refilled.
That’s it, lad, drink up.Rhys set the empty glass on the bar and whistled a low tune as he meandered out of the room.He exited the building as he had come in, through the service entrance.Walking up the stairs to the street, he stepped out into the cold night air.Breathing deeply, Rhys tipped his head up to gaze at the full moon, round and bright in the sky.He felt somewhat better knowing that Sommerset would be sleeping for the next twelve hours.But he couldn’t tamp down his worry for Violet.She had been so wan yesterday when he had left her at her home.He blew out a frustrated breath.Fuck.Then he turned and headed for Hanover Square.
Chapter Eleven
Violet ran asfast as her legs would carry her.She raced through the house, down the first-floor corridor and up the back staircase.Panic spread through her limbs, spurring her to pump her arms and legs harder as she climbed to the second floor.At the top, she halted in confusion at the endless hallway that stretched before her.She glanced down and laid a hand on her large, swollen belly.Keep moving.Protect yourself.Heavy footfalls followed her, but she didn’t dare turn around.Another corridor intersected, and she flew around the corner.Running, always running.She was so tired.She tried a doorknob.Maybe she could lock herself into one of these rooms.The handle rattled.Locked.The next one as well, and the one after that.A sob ripped from her chest.She had to keep running.So tired, but still she ran.Her hair flowed behind her, and her bare feet slapped against the floor.Then she was yanked to a halt.She cried out in pain.A second hand wrapped around her throat and began to squeeze.This was it.This is how she would die.
Violet jerked awake with a scream caught in her throat.She scrambled back until her back hit the carved wooden headboard of her bed.Moonlight streamed in through the window and illuminated the white sheets.She sucked in shallow breaths.
“It was just a bad dream.You are safe,” a deep voice said from across the room.
