“Mia! Damn it, Mia, I need to talk to you!”
Aden started upright. Miranda, draped across his chest, slid down to his lap and rolled to look up at him, sleepy-eyed.Christ.What the devil time was it? The edges of the lass’s curtains were well lit, and as sense returned he could hear the house about them well past stirring. He’d fallen asleep. Soundly. In a lass’s bedchamber. In Miranda’s bedchamber.
“Mia, you can’t ignore me forever,” came through the door, which thudded again.
Her chocolate eyes widened, her face paling to ashes. “Matthew,” she hissed, sitting up and knocking Aden in the chin. “You have to hide! Oh, dear Lord!”
Rubbing his face, Aden slid from beneath her and rose. He grabbed a spare blanket off the bed and tied it around his waist as he strode for the door. Behind him Miranda gasped and hurried after him to grab his arm. “Leave off, woman,” he grunted, continuing forward with her dragging at him.
“Aden, you can’t,” she whispered, her voice sharp.
“This isnae how I had planned it, but aye, I can. I need a word with yer damned brother. Now is better than later.” He glanced back at her, taking a moment to appreciate just how bonny she was in nothing but her long, dark hair. “And ye’re naked. I appreciate it, but I dunnae ken if Matthew will.”
“Damnation!” Slapping him across his bare back, she retreated to dive behind her bed.
Making certain she was where she wanted to be, he turned back to the door, unlocked it, and pulled it open. Before Matthew could do more than open his mouth, Aden grabbed him by the cravat and hauled him inside the room, closing and locking the door again before he released his grip.
He could see immediately why the lad had proven such an easy target for Captain Vale. Every emotion took a turn on Matthew’s pretty face, shock to disbelief to rage to confusion. Good God, a blind man could read the young Mr. Harris. “Shut yer damned mouth,” he grunted before Matthew could say something to ruin everyone’s plans.
Matthew snapped his gaping jaw closed, squared his shoulders, and opened his mouth again. “Where is my sister, MacTaggert? What have y—”
“Ye worried she’ll nae suffice any longer to pay yer debt to Captain Vale?” Aden interrupted, stalking forward as Matthew retreated. “Ye troubled that he may nae get all he’s paid for?”
“I—”
“Sit down, and keep quiet.”
He wasn’t surprised when Matthew seated himself in one of the chairs by the cold hearth. While he didn’t generally approach trouble head-on, he also generally didn’t care whether he won or lost a particular hand. This time, he did. And he knew what he looked like,half naked and over six feet tall and accustomed to a hard day’s work.
While Matthew watched, Aden went over to Miranda’s wardrobe and found a clean shift and a pretty blue walking dress. Keeping his gaze on her brother, he walked to the corner of the bed and set them in front of where she crouched, naked and clearly extremely annoyed with him.
He wanted a minute to contemplate where he was, and what it meant that he’d not only relaxed enough in her presence to fall asleep, but that he’d evidently slept well into midmorning. That conversation with himself would have to wait, though, because he had several things to set into motion, and most of them would depend on the other angry person in the room.
“Ye set aside what ye think I’m doing here for a minute and what that means to the plans ye’ve hidden from yer ma and da,” he said, taking the seat opposite Matthew. “Vale took ye for a fool, and ye didnae disappoint him.”
“George introduced us,” Matthew said, his voice clipped. “I had no reason not to trust either of them. They’re cousins, and George is a good sort, so—”
“They’re nae cousins. Vale dug into Humphries’s pockets first, and used him to get to ye. Ye ken?”
“He’s n…” Young Mr. Harris sat back in the chair, his eyes losing focus. He was no doubt running through his first encounters with Vale all over again with new eyes. “Why w—”
“I reckon he’s been in London longer than the seven weeks he claims,” Aden interrupted. Proper young ladies had maids, and simply because Miranda’s hadn’t yet tried to enter the room didn’t mean she wouldn’t do it any second now. “He’s been watching and chatting with people here and there, and whatever he learned pointed him to yer sister. Everything else has been part of his road to her.”
“But I beat him several times at the tables. How couldhe have planned ahead of time that I would lose… such a substantial amount to him?”
“Because he let ye win, so he could see the face ye show, so he’d learn which bets ye’d take and which ones ye’d shy away from. He was leading ye about the paddock like a buyer trying out a horse’s paces before he plunks down the blunt to buy him.”
“He couldn’t be that certain,” Matthew insisted. “I’m a fair gambler, I’ll have you know.”
A faint feminine growl came to Aden’s ears in response to that. “Ye’re nae a fair gambler,” he stated. “Ye’re a horrid one. It’s nae yer fault; ye and yer sister both show yer every feeling clear as glass on yer faces. What ye did wrong was listen to someone who told ye otherwise and then likely took ye for all ye had in yer pockets and then some.”
“That is not so. I refuse to believe you. Especially with you sitting, naked, in my sister’s bloody room, you bas—”
“Dunnae finish that insult, or I’ll be forced to punch ye,” Aden warned, rising. He found his coat crumpled up on the floor, and freed a deck of cards from one pocket. As he returned to the chair he shuffled it, then handed the deck to Matthew. “Pick any card, and put it on top of the deck. Keep the deck.”
Scowling, Matthew did as he was told. Sliding a card from the deck, he examined it with absurd caution, looked at all the other cards in turn because evidently everyone thought Aden kept decks of single-denomination cards in every pocket, then set his on top of the deck. “Now what?”
“Look at me.” Once the lad had reluctantly met his gaze, Aden took a slow breath. “Ace,” he said, then, “one, two, three,” and on, slowly, until he’d gone through every possible number a card could be. “Club,” he continued, “heart, spade, diamond.”
