He scrubbed a hand down his face when he saw that the match would be held at the Crown and Sceptre, the same pub that he’d fought in that illicit boxing match. He wasn’t eager to return there, as his presence would start to become noted, but he realized he didn’t have a choice if he wished to drag Flavian out of there.
He ground his teeth together. The man would owe him dearly for this, supposing they actually made it through the night unscathed.
Stepping out of the tub, Drake dried himself off and wondered what he might say to Fleur. Now that they were sharing the same bed, she would wonder about his absence if he wasn’t there. He certainly couldn’t reveal the truth because she would insist on going with him. And considering the apprehension he would be under about her safety; he couldn’t take the risk. It would be easier if he slipped into the pub and back out without drawing too much attention.
Unfortunately, for all his conniving in the past, he couldn’t seem to lie to her now. Instead, he instructed a footman to head up with a note that he had to slip out for a brief time to check on one of his other lodgings. He might not be able to tell a blatant untruth to Fleur, but he had no trouble putting it on paper.
Determined not to spend too much time out, Drake hailed down a hackney to take him near the pub. Instructing the driver to stop a few blocks away, Drake walked the rest of the way. He kept his shoulders slumped and his cap pulled down low over his brows. He wore clothes suited to his surroundings and moved as though he had never left. Too much confidence would see a knife in the center of his ribs. He had the scars to prove it. Thankfully, none of the wounds had been deep enough to drain the last of his lifeblood.
Entering through the front door, Drake was glad to see most of the patrons were already well into their cups and flirtations with the serving wenches that Drake slipped among the assemblage with little heed paid to his movements. He didn’t think he had been recognized as yet, but he wasn’t going to go out of his way to renew old acquaintances either.
He headed toward the back of the pub where a crowd had gathered. It was a key indication that large sport was about to take place. This place was notorious for illegal boxing and gambling, where the stakes were generally much higher than simple coin. These weren’t the gentleman clubs that the aristocracy frequented where the largest hindrance was a cloud of cigar smoke and the scent of brandy wafting on the air.
Here, lives were traded with the expertise of nothing more than a sleight of hand.
He allowed his gaze to travel over the faces eager to jump into the game when they had the chance. Some were almost salivating with each turn of the cards. Drake had never bothered to engage in these deadly matches. He preferred to engage when there was blunt to be had, or perhaps a bit of sport. With Flavian, he had saw an ease to his boredom by having a bit of fun. At the time, Drake had found himself at a crossroads, not sure where he wanted to go. He had considered the western coast, as he had enjoyed some previous exploits near the sea, but instead, something had compelled him to travel in the opposite direction, toward Greenwich.
Some days he wondered if he would have been better suited to follow his first instinct.
But then he wouldn’t have met Fleur and he wasn’t sure he wanted to ponder that regrettable circumstance for long.
Finding a sturdy, timber frame to lean against to observe the match, Drake was relieved to see that Flavian was nowhere in sight. He hoped that meant the young pup had decided to forgo this evening’s entertainment and decided to stay home to nurse the hangover he’d likely been suffering that morning.
Waiting for over an hour, he was almost convinced that Flavian wasn’t going to appear, but then the door opened and Avalon walked inside. But it was the man striding beside him that caused Drake to mutter a curse.
Fleur’s brother.
CHAPTER16
Fleur paced the bedchamber. Something was making her restless. It was as if a dark premonition had taken hold that told her something bad was about to occur.
She wished that Drake would have told her where he was headed so that she could ease her mind if he didn’t return by dawn. At least she would know where to begin the search.
Instead, she was left to walk anxiously about the room and tell herself that her instincts were wrong, that she was being unreasonable.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t dare try to sleep, so she lit a candle and headed downstairs. If she couldn’t sleep, then she would raid the larder and see if cook had made any of those delicious sweet honey biscuits that she couldn’t seem to get enough of. If Fleur wasn’t careful, she was going to find all those new gowns Drake had bought for her start becoming a little snug.
She stopped suddenly, wondering if that might be the only reason they wouldn’t fit. She sucked in a breath as she put a hand to her abdomen. Drake had told her that he’d always been careful when it came to sex, but thus far, things had been progressing as nature intended. She knew she was playing with fire, daring to tempt fate in such a fashion, but being with him felt so right that she hadn’t been thinking of tomorrow, although she should probably start doing so. She didn’t think Drake was eager to start a family any time soon. He hadn’t gone so far as to mention a more permanent situation between them, so that told her enough about their current relationship.
Walking into the kitchen, the light from the flame in her grasp flickered slightly. She shivered, the earlier sense of unease prickling over her skin once more. She set down the candle on the counter and searched the larder. With a pleased smile, she found what she was looking for and eagerly snatched one of the biscuits from the metal tray.
Finishing her first satisfied bite, she licked the crumbs from her lips.
She ate a second and a third before she shoved the tray back where it belonged. She knew it was nerves that was causing her to react like this, but until Drake returned and she could be assured that all was well, she would find little relief.
With little else to do but be consumed by her own concerns, Fleur headed for Drake’s study. She hoped it might offer some distraction before she forced herself to return to their chamber.
Theirchamber. It was unsettling how quickly she was starting to imagine them as a couple, rather than a man and his mistress.
She hoped she might find a book to read to keep her mind off every bad scenario that was crashing through her mind. She was worried that the individual responsible for setting flame to his other residence might do the same—while Drake was there. The note had been brief, but it had set fear inside her heart when she’d read his masculine hand sweeping across the page. She realized that he had lived this long without her guidance but perhaps it was time that changed. If nothing else, Fleur admitted that she was starting to care for him. She didn’t want to see him injured—or worse. She could have assisted him tonight if he’d only confided in her. She appreciated that he wanted to keep her safe, that the less she embroiled herself in his life the better off she was, but she was finding it impossible to ignore the dangers that swarmed him constantly.
Sitting in a chair by the mantel, Fleur laid her head back against the cushions of the chair and stared into the dying flames. They were little more than glowing coals and she would have discounted them entirely if it wasn’t for the slight flutter of a white bit of paper.
Curious, she straightened and wondered why it had been tossed into the fire at all. Unless, of course, it was something that no one else was meant to see.
She carefully reached into the ashes and pulled out the charred scrap. Most of it had burned beyond recognition, but there was enough that she could tell it was a few smudged names on a list. One in particular standing out more than the rest.
…vian…
