Because she’d seen something ominous in that woman’s eyes—something cruel.
Melanie couldn’t sit by while that poor baby might be suffering.
She had to do something.
CHAPTER 7
“You can’t revoke my membership.”
Malum leaned back in his chair, leveling an impassive stare at Lord Northwoods, the man who had so brilliantly demonstrated his idiocy by threatening one of Malum’s dealers two nights earlier.
Northwoods was dead wrong. Malum could do whatever the hell he wanted—this was his club, after all.
And revoking a membership at theDomuswasn’t just a slap on the wrist—it was a death knell. When a man found himself unwelcome here, word spread fast. Other clubs took note. Social invitations evaporated. Reputations crumbled. The humiliation alone could ruin a fellow, and Malum didn’t hand out second chances.
And yet, Malum wasn’t convinced that would be the best way to handle this fellow.
No, Northwoods might still be useful. The Rakes of Rotten Row, Malum’s allies in his effort to dismantle one of England’s most insidious opium-for-tea operations, suspected Northwoods knew more than he let on. Information had a way of slipping from the lips of men who were desperate—or arrogant enough to believe themselves untouchable.
Malum smiled faintly, his decision made.
Not that there was any hard evidence to suggest Northwoods was involved with the Duke of Crossings, but Northwoods had, in fact, been close to the Marquess of Foxbourne just before he’d disappeared.
And Foxbourne had been involved with Crossings.
Furthermore, Northwoods was just the type of man Crossings would have found easy to manipulate, cowardly and self-serving.
If Malum played his cards right, all of those qualities which made the earl a good target for Crossings might well be turned against the blighter in the near future.
“You know the rules,” Malum said, not so much as blinking as he observed the fellow’s reaction.
Losing the membership alone might be enough for Northwoods to start offering his allegiance. If not, Malum had another source of leverage he could use.
Northwoods had gotten himself into a rather nasty bind. At the tender age of one and twenty, the earl had inherited hisfather’s longstanding and well-maintained estate, and all the privileges and responsibilities that came with it. A decade and a half later, he was approaching complete financial ruin, having lost a significant portion of his fortune to gambling and the rest to poor investments.
Still, this so-calledgentlemandressed fashionably, sent flowers to all the ladies, and generally moved amongst thetonas though there was no tomorrow.
But tomorrow had come, because over the past twenty-four hours, all of Northwoods’ vowels, which amounted to over ten thousand pounds, had been bought up. And those vowels were safely tucked away in the top drawer of Malum’s desk.
Northwoods shook his head, his eyes serious.
“No disrespect, Your Grace, but I saw your man dealing from the bottom of the deck.”
“Right.” Malum raised one eyebrow and let the heavy silence that followed speak for itself.
Philbert was not only the club’s top dealer, but he had been with Malum since the club’s opening and proven his loyalty on more than one occasion.
Tiny beads of perspiration dotted Northwoods’ wide forehead, and every few seconds, his eyes shifted to the exit nervously. His swallows seemed a little too hard, and the man clutched the arm of his chair so tightly, the knuckles on his hands had turned white.
Malum resisted the urge to sigh. He’d spent the better part of the night dealing with an inconsolable infant, and now he was forced to babysit this particular brand of spinelessness.
“When did you last speak to the Marquess of Foxbourne?” Malum asked the question abruptly. Foxbourne was one of a long line of members of the nobility who’d gotten involved with the Duke of Crossings’ opium trading. As a result of that relationship, the man had likely met his end. Until a body wasdiscovered, however, the Rakes of Rotten Row couldn’t know for sure.
“February,” Northwoods answered. “Why?”
“What did you talk about?”
The earl blinked, obviously uneasy at this line of questioning.
