'Twas a brilliant plan. Subtly diabolical. Rummaging through her reticule, Percy withdrew a notebook and said, "Would you mind if I took down a few pointers?"
When one was fighting the devil, one must meet him on his own ground.
16
Later that afternoon,Gavin looked up from the club's ledgers as Stewart entered the office and shut the door behind. The big man hadn't bothered to knock, which meant the news was grim. Gavin had asked his mentor to investigate possible culprits of the attack at Vauxhall; in his bones, he knew that had been no random robbery attempt.
"There's a price out on your 'ead, lad," Stewart said.
Gavin digested that piece of information for a moment. "How much am I worth these days?"
"'Tisn't a laughin' matter." His mentor scowled. "A hundred pounds."
Gavin closed the ledger he'd been working on. "For that price, one would think to get a better bargain than those incompetent buggers at Vauxhall. Three of them, and they still couldn't finish the job."
"Didn't count on the fact that you learned to fight from the best," the other man said with a hint of satisfaction. "No half-arsed cutthroat is goin' to take you down." He sat in one of the chairs facing the desk. "But that's neither 'ere nor there. We've got a problem on our 'ands."
"Too much to hope you discovered who's funding the enterprise, I suppose?"
Stewart's bushy brows lowered. "Whoever 'e is, the bastard's covered 'is tracks well. I questioned all my contacts an' no one knows where the rumor o' the bounty started. But ev'ry Tom, Dick, an' 'Arry believes it to be true. You might as well 'ave a bull's-eye painted on your back."
Gavin rubbed his neck as he considered the possible suspects; four came readily enough to mind. "I'd start with Kingsley," he said. "He seemed none too pleased when I turned down his offer to join forces. What do we know about his movements?"
Will, Gavin's head guard, had been keeping an eye on Kingsley.
"Will says Kingsley's a slippery bastard. Apparently, the man visits a public 'ouse e'vry Saturday, and ne'er the same one twice. He chooses places outside o' London that are so packed to the gills that Will couldn't spot 'im inside."
"Wenching, do you think?" Gavin mused. "Mavis would nail his bollocks to the wall if she knew."
"Could be. Could be Kingsley's plottin' in secret for some other reason." Stewart frowned. "Until I get to the bottom o' this, you had best keep your wits about you. Take one o' the men to accompany you if you must step out. But no more midnight jaunts with that chit, lad, not until the matter is settled."
"I'll not hide like a bloody coward," Gavin said coldly.
The idea was unpalatable. And he had no intention of interrupting hisrendezvouswith Percy. Minutes ago, when he'd supposedly been reviewing the club's accounts, he'd in reality been fantasizing about the steamy interlude in the hut. About what would have happened if he had not stopped; if he had, instead, drawn her skirts farther up, baring her sleek thighs, getting ever closer to the sweetest spot of all—
"Goddamn it. Iknewit. She's bewitched you."
Gavin shook himself free of the image. His mentor was glaring at him. To his chagrin, his cheekbones heated as if he were a schoolboy caught in a prank. "That's nonsense."
"Don't bother lyin' to me. I know you better than the nose on my own face. That Fines girl 'as got you wrapped 'round 'er finger, an' you're too blind to see it."
"The opposite is true. I am usingherfor my purposes."
The other man snorted. "You tumbled 'er yet?"
"No. Not that it's any of your business." God help him if Stewart found out he'd let the opportunity slip at Vauxhall. In truth, he'd spent a great deal of the last two days trying to figure that out himself. Why had he stopped, when he could have had Percy—her and Morgan's company?
"What's she good for, if not that?" Stewart shook his grizzled head. "This is bad news, son. I ne'er known you to wait pretty on a female, which means one thing: she's got 'er claws in you."
"I've got a thicker hide than that."
"You think that, but you're wrong. Trust me, I know what it's like." The other man speared him with a dark, prophetic gaze. "'Twas the same with Marissa, and we both know 'ow that ended."
With Stewart in irons and tossed into the hulks for assault—aye, Gavin knew the story. But the situation with Percy was different… wasn't it?
"At the beginnin', 'twas like havin' a megrim an' a stomach ache at the same time. Couldn't focus, couldn't eat… all I could think about was the bleedin' wench," Stewart said grimly.
Not so different, then. Damnit.
