Davey scurried to the other side of the bar, keeping his eyes lowered as he unloaded the tray. The servants had reported that the boy was a hard worker, with nary a complaint about anything. Yet Gavin had never seen the boy smile—except for that one time. With Percy.
Who could blame Davey? The minx had a way about her. Just the thought of her smiling face warmed Gavin's chest, chasing away some of the chill. The need to see her burned inside him; now, however, it warred with growing concern about her safety. The world was catching fire around him, and he wouldn't let her get singed by the flames. At the same time, he balked at any further delay of their meetings: her family was bound to return soon, and the time to win her was running out.
Which left one option. He had to speed matters along. When she came to him tomorrow night, he would have to renegotiate their terms. He had no choice but to seduce her, take the wager and her heart. And what the hell—if it softened the blow for her, he'd fish her brother out of the hole when it came to O'Brien. Once he had her loyalty secured, he would send her somewhere safe until the business with Lyon died down.
No small order you've set yourself.
He brooded over his whiskey as Davey continued to stow away glasses. Something in the boy's somber, detached demeanor reminded him of himself.No man is an island,Percy had said. For so long, he'd prided himself on his self-sufficiency, surrounding himself with a sea of anger. Vengeance had kept him afloat.
For the first time, he wondered if he was also... trapped.
Clink. Clink.Davey stacked the glasses with the soulless efficiency of a soldier. With none of the carefree whimsy of a boy his age.
Gavin's chest tightened. He knew all too well that innocence was the price of survival. Percy's comment about Davey's infatuation leapt into his mind, and for some ungodly reason he heard himself say, "How is your milkmaid?"
The tinkling sound abruptly halted. Brown eyes peered up at him. "Beg your pardon, sir?"
"You were talking to Miss Fines about her," Gavin said. "Nan, was it?"
"Yes, sir."
Drawing conversation from Davey was about as easy as drawing a tooth from another boy. God only knew why he was attempting the task. Rubbing his neck, Gavin said, "How is the matter proceeding?"
"You mean… with Nan?"
For devil's sake."Yes, her," Gavin said. "Unless you've got others waiting in the wings."
"Oh no, sir. I would ne'er…" Davey turned a bright shade of red. "Nan's the only one fer me. Though I don't reckon she feels the same. What would she want wif an ugly git like me?"
Unfortunately, Gavin could see the other's point. Davey had not been blessed when it came to matters of appearance. In addition to his lanky frame, the boy had brown hair that stuck up in a habitual cowlick, and his ears occupied an undeniably wide berth. Not the most promising packaging overall.
Gavin recalled the physical awkwardness of his own adolescence. The whores in the hulks had made a game of mocking him.Jack the Slash, Scarred an' Feathered.In retrospect, he understood that their pushing him in the dirt had allowed them to avoid the bottom rung; at the time, however, their jeers had only sparked his humiliation and burning need to prove himself.
Jaw tight, Gavin said, "You'll outgrow it."
He had. When he'd finally grown big and strong, ruling those hulks with his fists, the whores' tunes had changed. They'd vied for his attention—and he'd fucked them, coldly, never forgetting that like everything else, sex was about power. A transaction.Use or be used.
"A man's worth is measured in more than looks," he said grimly.
"Miss Fines said the same thing. She said,"—Davey reddened further—"'e'vry boy's a prince inside.' And that's 'ow I'm to carry meself if I want to win a princess."
It sounded like something Percy would say. Sweet, idealistic—for an instant, Gavin wondered what his life might have been like if he'd met her earlier. If Morgan hadn't betrayed him, if he hadn't gone through the hulks… if he'd known her love rather than the scorn of slatterns, his mother's rejection…
In other words, if everything was different.
His brows drew together as something raw seeped through the wall of anger. For once, what would it be like to trust someone? To lose himself in Percy's warmth…
"It's Nan's birthday next week. Miss Fines said Nan might like a present." Once started, Davey couldn't seem tostoptalking. "She says as 'ow gifts make a girl feel special."
"She said that, did she?"
In his usual dealings with females, Gavin was generous with baubles and the like. His arrangement with Percy, however, had hardly been conventional. He'd been so caught up in the business of the wager (not to mention saving his own neck) that he hadn't thought to buy her anything. He would remedy that oversight. Percy deserved a gift as unique, as breathtakingly beautiful, as she was. Frowning, he wondered what the hell she would like.
He coughed into his fist. "Did she, ahem, give you any suggestions?"
"I asked 'er. She said if it was 'er, she'd want somethin'… personal like." Scratching his head, Davey said, "Somethin' that tells the girl you've been thinkin' bout 'er. A bunch o' vi'lets, if they remind you o' 'er eyes." The boy looked at him glumly. "Problem is, sir, Nan's gotbrowneyes. Only brown flowers I can think o' are dead. An' I don't think she'd like that much."
Gavin's lips quirked. "I'd wager you're wise to skip the dead poesies."
