He chuckled. “I knew there was spirit about you when we first met. It is why I approached Porter with a proposition this evening that he didn’t care to accept. Maybe you will be more amenable to the idea.”
Fleur stilled. “If Drake was here, then where is he now?”
“In that regard, I fear I cannot answer.”
Somehow, she didn’t think that was true. And since she was intrigued by his supposed proposition, she decided to humor him for the moment. “Very well. She sheathed the sword in her belt and crossed her arms in front of her. “What is your grand idea?”
His lips quirked, and then he became all seriousness. “I want you as my mistress.”
Fleur blinked. Drake had told her that Avalon had found her agreeable but she never imagined he would dare take it so far. “I see.” She acted as though she were mulling the prospect over in her mind. “I fear I must decline your generous offer, sir, as I am quite taken with Mr. Porter.”
He exhaled heavily. “That is quite regrettable. If you agreed, I was going to sweeten the deal by forgiving your brother’s debt to me.”
Suddenly, the blood turned to ice in Fleur’s veins. She straightened and took a step toward him. “How much does he owe you?”
Avalon attempted to appear contrite, but Fleur could easily see through his guise. “Twelve hundred pounds.”
She closed her eyes. It was a staggering sum. Double what he had lost to Drake. With her gaze focused back on the man, she asked, “What if I was able to clear his debt?”
“You mean from Porter’s generosity?” He shook his head. “I fear his funds are about to run short. After the deal he made with Harriette, his circumstances are bound to falter.”
Fleur clenched her fists at her hands. She knew she was courting trouble by daring to ask the question but she couldn’t stop herself if she’d tried. “What are you talking about?”
He blinked, as if surprised. Another ploy, she was sure of it. “You didn’t know they had met in secret to discuss another five thousand quid for you?” A strange buzzing began in Fleur’s ears that threatened to eclipse the rest of the other man’s words. “I didn’t realize Porter kept such significant secrets from you.” He released a slow breath. “I shouldn’t like to be the bearer of bad news, but I heard it from Miss Wilson herself.”
“For what purpose?” Fleur asked. “That sort of money doesn’t get thrown about without good reason.”
“Harriette wanted to ensure your safety, of course. She was regretful with how things went on at the auction and begged Porter to release you from his hold. She knew that his reputation would eventually sully him and she didn’t want you to get caught in his snare. It was why she sent Flavian with me that night.” He hung his head. “Unfortunately, after the game, he fled. No doubt he feared Porter’s retribution. Everyone in the pub heard Porter threaten him.”
Fleur was finding it difficult to draw a full breath. “Are you saying that my brother is… missing?”
“I’m afraid so. And now it appears that Porter is as well.”
She shook her head. Drawing out the sword, she held it in front of her while Avalon’s face blurred in her vision. “You’re lying. Drake wouldn’t hurt my brother because he knew it would hurt me.”
Avalon’s face looked empathetic. She hated him for it. “You forget the sort of man that Porter was, that hestillis. You’re blinded by your love for him while he’s used you most ill.” He held out his hand to her and cajoled, “Hand me the weapon and I will ensure that you don’t have to endure this sort of misery anymore. You will be well cared for under my protection.”
Fleur looked at his hand as if he were offering her a poisonous apple. The hand holding the sword trembled, and she despised any show of weakness when she told herself to remain strong and courageous. Something told her that if her brother and Porter were missing it was due to this man.
Making a decision and trusting in her love for Drake, she took a step forward and sliced the sword through the air, making a neat cut through Avalon’s outstretched palm. “I don’t need anyone’s protection. I have my own.”
As he uttered a howl of pain, she turned and started to run back toward the main room to find Amos.
She never made it.
* * *
Drake groaned.His skull was splitting and he had the sensation that he was floating. Perhaps he was dead, but then, why the hell did his wrists ache?
When he opened his eyes, he realized that it wasn’t a dream but a harsh reality. His arms were bound above his head by a coarse rope and he was dangling a short distance from the floor. It caused him to swing lightly in the air.
He struggled to gain focus and it appeared that he was in a large building, that might have once been a prominent warehouse, but was now devoid of most anything that might have been useful. He looked up and could see the early rays of dawn drifting in through the holes in the open roof. He supposed he could call for help but that usually didn’t work. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time he’d been in this sort of bind, quite literally, so he knew he just had to wait for the opportune moment to escape.
Hearing another groan, he glanced to his left as best as he could and spied Devon’s bloody face. It appeared that Amos’s son was in dire straits as well. He intended to find out what he’d done to gain such animosity, but for now, he had to concentrate on getting them out of there.
He was too far away to kick to gain his attention but he did call out his name.
His limp head lifted slightly and he peered at Drake through slitted eyes. “Porter?” he rasped. “What are you… doing here?”
