"Never been… good with words. Should've said… long time ago..."—Stewart reached a large hand to Gavin's scarred cheek—"… sorry."
"You did it to protect me. You've always protected me." Moisture streaked Gavin's face. "Don't go."
A faint smile showed through Stewart's beard. "You're the son… I ne'er…"
And his hand fell.
Through a veil of tears, Percy watched as Gavin closed his mentor's eyes.
"Mr. Hunt, someone's coming! We can't slow 'em down!"
Shots blasted through the night. Gavin jerked upright. Before Percy knew what was happening, he shoved her behind him and drew his pistols. Paul ran to stand next to her just as an enormous black carriage came hurtling down the lane. It came to a sudden stop, the door flying open. Percy's jaw slackened at the sight of the familiar golden crest.
"No, Gavin! Don't shoot!" She pushed in front of him. "It's Nicholas!"
A group of large men in dark coats descended from the carriage. The leader headed straight for her, his gloved hands closing on her shoulders.
"Are you hurt, Percy?" His grey eyes assessed her, and above the pristine folds of his cravat, his mouth formed a tight, imperious line. He'd never looked more like the powerful and foreboding marquess that he was.
"I'm fine," she said quickly. She addressed the tall, lanky man standing next to Nicholas, who held a gun pointed at Gavin. "Mr. Kent, please put your weapon away. This is Mr. Hunt, and he is a friend—"
The Thames River policeman's aim did not waver. "I'd be more careful in my choice of friends, Miss Fines. This man is a known scoundrel."
"Rather a dramatic entrance, wouldn't you say, Morgan?" This came from Paul. "Not your usual understated style. But rest assured, Percy is fine. I have been with her this entire time—"
"As for you, Fines," Nicholas said in even tones, "we have much to discuss. You have caused your mama no small amount of worry. Go wait in the carriage,"—his tones booked no refusal—"and we will go see her directly."
Shoulders hunching, Paul did as he was told.
Percy looked anxiously at Gavin... and all breath left her in a rush. His scar was a violent slash across his hard features, and his eyes raged with hellfire.His words before the mayhem returned to her:It has to do with Morgan. This is between him and me.
"Percy, we must leave now," Nicholas said. "As for you Hunt, rest assured I will deal with you later."
"Will you indeed, my lord?" 'Twas the first time Gavin had spoken, and the lethal quality of his voice sent a warning shiver up Percy's spine.
Nicholas' eyes turned to silver-grey slits. "You wish to settle this now? Fine." He removed a wallet from inside his jacket. "How much?"
"How much," Gavin repeated softly.
"Yes, man, how much is owed to you?"
"Are you referring to Fines' debt to me... or your own?"
"Mine?" A look of distaste crossed Nicholas' handsome features. "I do not frequent establishments such as yours, Hunt."
"What about an establishment owned by one Benjamin Grimes?"
Nicholas paled. "Who... who are you?"
Gavin's teeth flashed, his look that of a predator cornering his prey at last.
32
Cold satisfaction washedover Gavin to see the uppity whoreson turn whiter than a ghost. Indeed, he had raised one straight in Morgan's smug face. Rage numbed the rawness of his insides, blanked his mind of things he couldn't think about, not now. His instincts kicked in.
Whatever happens, show no fear. Be brave. Look strong.
"Who are you?" Morgan's voice had lost its authority now, was no more than a whisper.
