“A good many men are enthralled by the charms of ladies, of course,” Oscar said as he tried, once again, not to think of Imogen back at home. Maybe still in his bed. Waiting for him to find a way to save her. He shook the distraction away. He’d come here with a purpose in mind. He had to focus in order to fulfill it.
“But I’ve heard it goes further than that,” he continued. He drew a deep breath and met the other man’s gaze. “I’ve heard you have women…available. Or can make them so.”
Chapter 18
Oscar watched for any tiny indication of Roddenbury’s feelings on the question, but the earl was a good card player. He didn’t respond for a moment, though his gaze remained heavy on Oscar as he pushed the deck over for him to deal. Oscar shuffled as the tension between them ratcheted up. Roddenbury didn’t know what to think of him and he wasn’t inclined to trust. In some ways, that was smart. Wicked men did wicked things, but most would draw the line at kidnap, murder and forced imprisonment of women. The earl would be a fool not to look for traps at every turn.
“Are you looking for women, Fitzhugh?” he asked, his tone suddenly heavier, darker.
Oscar cleared his throat. “I’d like my club to be more…competitive with some of the hells. Perhaps some willing women would make that happen.”
Roddenbury snorted out a chuckle. “How about less than willing? Though they do tend to come to heel given enough time and incentive.”
Oscar swallowed past the bile gathering in his throat. He wanted to hit this man so badly he could almost feel the crunch of his cheek beneath his fist.
“You look angry, Mr. Fitzhugh. Do you not approve of my methods?” Roddenbury leaned forward. “Or is it more personal?”
Oscar thought of Louisa. He thought of Imogen. “I suppose everything is personal in the end, my lord.”
“Deal the next hand, Mr. Fitzhugh. And why don’t we raise the stakes?” He pushed his money to the center of the table. All of it. “All in.”
“No matter the hand?” Oscar said.
“Life isn’t worth anything without risk,” Roddenbury said with a thin smile.
Oscar shoved his own money in and dealt the cards. Roddenbury motioned to him and Oscar flipped his cards. Two kings. He arched a brow at Roddenbury and waited as the other man flipped his own cards one at a time. A queen. And as he picked up the other card and looked at it before he showed it to Oscar, the earl smiled.
Oscar’s heart sank. He turned the card and revealed an ace.
“I believe that’s the game.”
“That was good luck,” Oscar mused as he watched his money get pulled away by his companion.
“Or something like it,” Roddenbury said with a chuckle as he cleared the table and got up to walk away.
Oscar gripped his hands against the tabletop. So Roddenbury had cheated. And giving that fact away through inference was some odd way to show his dominance, that he was unbeatable. That he was unstoppable.
Oscar couldn’t let that stand.
He stood up and followed Roddenbury, turning him back toward him and yanking him closer. Roddenbury jerked back, cocked his fist and punched Oscar straight in the face.
He reeled at the unexpected attack, at the pain that shot through his cheekbone and around the eye that would surely be blackened in moments. From the corner of that throbbing eye, he saw others coming toward them. He wasn’t a member of this club, but Roddenbury was. Given that fact and their disparate places in Society, he was surely about to be kicked out.
He jerked Roddenbury closer. “I know what you are, Roddenbury. I know what you do. You will be stopped.”
Roddenbury staggered back and held up a hand to stay the men who were coming to intervene. He stared at Oscar for a moment, his gaze moving up and down his frame. Then he shook his head. “You don’t appear to be a foolish man, this little interaction aside. And I certainly hope you haven’t done something you might regret, sir. Because if I find out you have interfered with me…if I find out you are working in league withanyone elseto harm me or my business, I will destroy you. I will destroy everything you have, everything you are, I will destroy everything you love. And she…if there is a she…will still suffer. So that loss will befor nothing.”
Oscar’s stomach turned. Roddenbury was talking about Imogen. He guessed, though he might not be certain, about Oscar’s involvement. And so he had come here to feel this man out, to try to uncover if he could be stopped…and instead he had done nothing but bring him ever closer to Imogen.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Roddenbury,” he grunted. “I just meant you were a card cheat.”
“I hope that’s true,” Roddenbury said. “Take this riffraff away.”
Oscar felt the men grabbing for him and yanked from their grip, smoothing his jacket as he pivoted on his heel and strode from the club on his own volition. But as he threw himself on his horse and rode toward home, his stomach churned.
He’d always controlled his emotions for this very reason. And now because he couldn’t stop thinking of Imogen, of helping her and taking the fear from her eyes, he’d probably only made things worse. He might even lose her because of what he’d done.
The thought of which turned his stomach and drove him even harder to get to her.
