Ellis glanced over his shoulder with a slight smile and found Marcus standing there. His friend slid into on to the stools pushed up to the bar and called out. “Two of those, Brooks.”
The bartender gave a wave of recognition. As they waited for their drinks, Marcus watched Ellis closely. Too closely.
“Damn it, Rivers,” Ellis muttered as the whisky was set down before them. “Don’t sit there reading me.”
Marcus shrugged. “It’s hard not to when I’m worried about you.”
Ellis sipped his drink. “Christ, spare me your playing nursemaid. I’m fine.”
“Saw you go into the back, but I don’t think it was with the lady you kept encountering here before. The one you insisted I ban. The spitfire.”
Ellis stared at his drink. The remnants suddenly tasted sour. “You know me,” he said at last. “A lady for every occasion.”
“Hmmm.” Rivers leaned back and took a sip of his own drink. “If you say so. If you don’t want to tell me the truth.”
“You already know too many truths, old friend,” Ellis said with a sigh and another sip of his drink. “If I lie, it’s just out of habit.”
“Self-preservation, I think,” Rivers corrected with a frown. “Handsome, let me help you.”
Ellis considered it. He could tell Rivers what he was off to do and where. He could ask for his help and he knew, without a doubt, that his friend would. Only when everything fell apart, Rivers would be implicated. He’d lose everything he’d fought so hard to build. So few people got out of the gutter. Ellis wasn’t about to drag his friend back in.
“No, I don’t think so,” he said with a pat of Rivers’ arm. He downed the last sip of his whisky and stood to reach into his pocket for blunt to pay.
Marcus shook his head. “That one was on the house.”
Ellis stared at him and Rivers stared right back. His friend’s gaze widened a fraction, and Ellis nodded slightly. “Goodbye, Marcus.”
He extended a hand for Rivers to shake, and his friend rose before he did so. “Goodbye, Ellis,” Rivers said softly.
Ellis pivoted and walked away, eyes stinging. Now he had to shrug off all he was about to lose. He had to focus on what moves he’d have to make to ensure no one else would lose instead.
Juliana paced Harcourt’s parlor, glaring at the gathering of her two sisters and their husbands. They were all arguing around her now, talking about what should have happened in the past. What they could have noticed to stop all this.
Rook had rung for the household to be woken, much to the dismay of Harcourt’s butler. But they’d come, bleary eyed and wrapped in dressing gowns. Rook’s quick explanation of what had transpired that night, him coming upon her and Ellis in Harcourt’s study, had been what inspired this cacophony of discussion.
She lifted a hand at last. “Great God, will you all stop? This is pointless and it won’t help Ellis.” The noise in the room stopped and everyone stared at her in surprise. She folded her arms, a shield of protection. “I’ve already confessed it to Rook, so I won’t deny it now. I am in love with Ellis.”
Harcourt drew back, an expression of horror on his face. Her sisters just stared. Rook remained unreadable, just as he had when she first admitted that his guess about her heart was correct.
“Juliana,” Thomasina breathed at last, breaking the silence of the room.
Juliana threw up her hands in frustration. “You can argue with me about it later. Right now Ellis has deciphered the code that tells him where the gem was hidden. He didn’t tell me where he was going, but I’m terrified at what will happen once he uncovers it.”
“He’ll run, you mean?” Harcourt snapped, his dark eyes narrowing. “He’ll take the gem and leave Winston Leonard to potentially destroy us all.”
“No!” Juliana took a long step toward him. This was the fight against her family that Rook had meant earlier. A war that she realized now would have many battles. And if this was the first, she would win it. “I realize you don’t like Ellis. All of you have reason to be angry with him. But Iknowhim. He would not abandon us for money. He wouldn’t abandon Rook or his brother to potential death. He—he wouldn’t do that to me.”
Rook cleared his throat. “She’s right. My cousin has a great many faults. But I saw his face. It wasn’t triumph I saw when he bolted out that window. It was determination. Surrender. I fear for what he’ll do in order to protect us all.”
“As well you should.”
The group of them turned, and Juliana caught her breath. Marcus Rivers had entered the parlor. Harcourt’s butler Willard was on his heels. “My apologies, my lord. He wouldn’t—”
“Mr. Rivers,” Juliana breathed as she stepped up to him and looked into dark green eyes that were lined with the same concerns as her own. “He went to Donville, didn’t he?” she whispered.
“You may go, Willard,” Harcourt said. “Mr. Rivers, I presume.”
Rivers looked past her at the crowd. “Lord and Lady Harcourt, Rook, Mrs. Maitland. I apologize for barging in at so late an hour. Though I’m happy to find you all gathered. I assume to discuss the same thing I came here for.”
