Queen of Hearts: Lords of Scandal Page 4

  “Thank you for understanding,” he answered, looking from the sparkling fixture down into her face. She looked up at him, her features as gentle as her voice had been. She stole his breath like this.

  The truth was, when he’d touched her, he’d felt a jolt of attraction that tightened every muscle in his body.

  He wanted this woman.

  But he couldn’t have her. They had business, that was the first reason, and she wasn’t the sort a man could trifle with. Any man. Not even dukes.

  But more than that, he had the feeling he could genuinely care for her. She had the kind of strength that might bolster a man, especially one like him who’d been grinding his way through life for such a long time.

  But he had so little to give and the match he did make would be for Lizzie’s benefit. She’d be a lady who could usher his sister through society and finance the venture with her dowry. From what he gathered, Arabella was neither rich nor skilled in the parlors of London. She might be right for him but he wasn’t marrying for himself. The choice he made would be for Lizzie.

  Still, as he looked down at Arabella, any trace of rationality dissipated. Common sense forgotten, he wondered…what would her mouth taste like? How would she feel in his arms?

  “Arabella?” Chance asked from the top of the stairs, his voice ringing out. “What’s going on?”

  “Chance,” Arabella called back with a smile as her gaze left Edge’s. “How good to see you.”

  “Don’t try to distract me,” he said trotting down the stairs. “What is he doing here?”

  “Where is Daisy?” she asked, avoiding the question, Edge was sure.

  Chance grimaced. “You’re not actually thinking to bring her into this are you? You know I don’t want her anywhere near the club, or the business, or him.” He cocked his head in Edge’s direction with a fierce scowl.

  He saw Arabella start, a tiny tremor that moved through her. His own gaze narrowed. What was that about?

  “This doesn’t have to do with the club. Mostly.”

  “What doesn’t?” Daisy appeared from the back hallway just off the foyer that made its way to the back of the house.

  Edge glanced at the woman he’d once wished to marry. She was as lovely as ever as she sailed into the entry, her dark hair pulled back in a loose coif. Chance met her at the bottom of the stairs, a possessive hand coming to her waist.

  But his normal pang of jealousy didn’t surface. In fact, he looked at Arabella to make certain she was faring all right. Why had she been upset?

  “Edge and I have come to an agreement, but we were hoping,” Arabella gave Chance a large smile, “we were hoping that Daisy might be able to help us a bit.”

  “Help us?” Chance growled out low and dangerous, assessing both of them. “Daisy may help you at any time but if it involves him…” He jabbed his finger in Edge’s direction.

  Daisy ignored him, gesturing toward a sitting room. “Come. Sit so that we might discuss your plan further.”

  They moved into a sitting room just off the entry, this room as well-appointed as the entry as he sat next to Arabella on a settee. She spread her skirts as her spine once again took on the perfectly straight angle.

  In concise words, she described the help that Edge had asked for in exchange for Hart’s shares. She left out most details of the club but as Chance stood behind his wife, his hand tightened on her shoulder.

  When Arabella finished, Daisy smiled and said, “Of course I’ll help.”

  At the exact same moment, Chance growled out, “No.”

  Daisy looked back at her husband, her lips pursed, her brows marked with a frown. “Don’t be silly. Of course, we can escort Lizzie to a few events.”

  “Daisy,” Chance replied, his tone significantly softer. “We’re not socializing with Edgemere.”

  Daisy waved her hand. “I’ve got a few gowns that I think would work for her. Send her tomorrow and I can see if they fit.”

  Edge looked back at Chance. If he wasn’t mistaken, the duke was losing this round. In fact, it didn’t even appear to be a contest.

  “Daisy,” Chance said in a low voice, his hand sliding down her arm. “This is a terrible idea.”

  “She’s a lovely girl, Chance. And she deserves an opportunity to find a husband. Why have all that we do and not help people in need? People we like.”

  “We’re not helping people, we’re helping him,” Chance said, then pointed at Edgemere, his lip curling into a sneer.

  “You’re helping me too.” Arabella cocked her head to the side, giving Chance a steady glare.

  “Bella,” Chance said then, looking away from Edge. “He’s using you the way he tried to take advantage of Daisy.”

  Anger pulsed through him. Would they ever look past his mistake? “I wanted to marry Daisy and now I’m trying to give Arabella what she wants while still providing for my sister. Why do you continue to insist on painting me as the villain?”

  And then Arabella’s hand came to his arm, touching his sleeve. Awareness pulsed through him, replacing his anger.

  It was a gentle touch meant to calm, but he had the distinct urge to pull the beauty against his side and kiss her senseless. Lose himself against the softness of her lips and for once, forget all the weight that hung about his shoulders.

  “Because you’re—”

  “Chance,” Daisy interrupted. “Enough. I would like to help Lizzie. She’s my friend and the one who is truly in need here.” Then Daisy rose. “I’ll send our carriage for her tomorrow at noon, I’ll collect her myself, so a chaperone isn’t required.”

  Edge looked back, unsure how to express just how grateful he was to both women. Daisy was doing Lizzie a great service and Arabella had understood exactly how to broker this meeting.

  As they rose to leave, he ignored Chance’s dark glare. Whatever the man thought of him, in this moment, he owed the duke of debt of gratitude as well. One he’d repay by delivering a thief to their door.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Arabella watched the floor of the gaming hell, now teaming with life as men called, cheered, booed, and generally caroused at the tables.

  She smiled to see all the action as she scanned the room.

  But her gaze stopped as she watched Edge wind his way around the tables. His intention focused and sharp as he looked from dealers to gamblers, giving away no emotion.

  He’d been working for nearly two hours with the same methodical pace and demeanor without interruption. What he looked for, she couldn’t say, but as he worked, it was clear to her that he was searching without respite.

  And she was free to study the hard planes of his face, the cut of his worn coat.

  She shifted, remembering the feel of his arm under her hand. She hadn’t meant to touch him like that. She hadn’t even meant to silence him. She’d wished to give him comfort, she’d felt for him in that moment.

  He was attempting to take a desperately awful situation and make it right. Didn’t Chance understand how much more difficult life was without the support of a title and money?

  How much harder a person had to work to be successful?

  For the first time all evening, Edge’s gaze met hers and gave a quick jerk of his head toward her office door. Then he started for the room.

  She followed, narrowing her own gaze.

  He left the door open but the moment she entered, he closed it quickly behind her. “What is it?” she asked, turning back to him only to realize in the small space they were ridiculously close. She tilted her chin to look up at him, her breath catching in her throat as the heat of his body sifted through her clothes.

  “I’ve found something.”

  His deep voice reverberated through her. Was it the sound or the words that affected her so? “What?” she asked, realizing she sounded breathy. She never sounded that way. Ever.

  “That man on the back table, he’s…” He pursed his lips. “He’s not acting like the others.”

  Her brows drew together.
“What does that mean?”

  “It might mean nothing. But he’s far more serious, he isn’t drinking, he’s paying rapt attention to the cards…”

  “I see.” She pressed her hands together as she considered those words. “I can get Lockton. He’s in charge of security.”

  Edge shook his head. “At this point, everyone knows Lockton and his role here. I’d rather play this more quietly.” He shifted, bending down even closer to her and she caught a whiff of his scent. It was spicy and warm and comforting with its pine and leather notes. She drew in a deep breath, feeling herself relax as the air flowed into her lungs. “I’m going to follow him and see where he goes when he leaves.”

  Tension slammed back through her. “Follow him?”

  Edge nodded.

  She swallowed. Maybe she hadn’t considered just how dangerous finding the thief would be. “Alone?”

  “What other choice is there? Only Lockton is here and—”

  She stretched to her full height. “I’m here.”

  He drew back his head, surprise lifting his brows. “You can’t think to—”

  By way of answer, she circled around her desk and pulled out her small derringer. She ignored the small tremor of fear that snaked down her spine. The one that seemed to occur more and more often. “I can.” She didn’t even bother to mention the knife she had strapped just below her bodice at her waist.

  He stared at her for a moment, his arms crossing. “I’ve seen the others attempt to tell you no.”

  She gave him a bright smile. “Then you’re already aware it’s useless.”

  One corner of his mouth pulled up. “I’ll keep watch on the floor. When he leaves, so do we.”

  “I’ll tell Lockton,” she answered as they both exited the office.

  Their arms brushed on the way out the door and she did her best to ignore the tingles spreading through her at the touch. She had to focus on the business. And even if she were to ever allow a man to distract her, it would not be Edgemere.

  He was too…

  Titled. And though he hadn’t come from money, he clearly had an agenda to marry a rich, well-connected lady and she was neither. She didn’t need another reminder of how she didn’t belong.

  With that in mind, she watched him watch the floor until the man finally got up to leave an hour later.

  With a quick wave of his hand, he followed and so did she.

  By some stroke of luck, the man didn’t take a hack but began walking. She and Edge stayed far enough behind to catch him just as he rounded each corner. Edge hadn’t said a word and so she followed his lead.

  The Den of Sins was located on the eastern border of the city, where the better part of London gave way to the working-class slums. As the man walked, he led them deeper and deeper into the dirty, grimy streets packed with the poor.

  And then they started toward the Thames, winding their way through warehouses. Even Arabella began to question the intelligence of this choice as the night grew quieter and the darkness thicker and blacker.

  In a place like this, someone could cut a man’s throat before he even knew he wasn’t alone.

  Arabella never allowed fear to rise like this. Usually, she forced it down by sheer force of will, making certain that it didn’t cloud her mind. But tonight, next to Edge, emotions were surfacing that she’d assumed she’d long mastered.

  What if something were to happen? What had she accomplished with her life, precisely? A business. What else?

  Edge reached for her hand, holding her fingers in his. She was too scared to notice the attraction, but she felt the comfort like a palpable force as he squeezed her fingers in his, stopping. “Shh,” he whispered as they began to creep forward.

  And that’s when she heard it. The voices of men. Two, three?

  Her and Edge peeked around a corner to see four men standing together. Even in the dark, she recognized one of them. Sir Thomas.

  She brought her hand to her mouth to keep from gasping aloud.

  How had Edgemere known to follow that man?

  She looked up at him, his brow marked with a frown in the dim light. “I knew he was suspicious.”

  Arabella shook her head. She would have never picked out that man. She had to confess that Edge was as skilled as he was handsome. Which made him even more dangerous, as far as she was concerned.

  Edge was intimately aware of Arabella at his side. Had she even noticed that she’d pressed up against his arm, her hand on his bicep?

  He’d known she didn’t scare easily but he could feel her fear now.

  If he could just move closer, he’d like to hear what they said but he was afraid to move her forward, closer to the band of men, and he didn’t want to leave her either.

  A few words drifted back to him. “How do they take the bets at Hell’s Corner?”

  He didn’t quite catch the answer, but he did hear Sir Thomas’s next question. “And what about Crockford’s?”

  They weren’t just stealing from the Den of Sins. They were taking from all the clubs. Which was…brilliant in a diabolical way. How could you be prosecuted for stealing from illegal businesses? His gut roiled as he considered how deep and large a group of thieves like this might be. Were they looking at the entire band of thieves or were there more?

  Could Edgemere enlist the help of these other establishments?

  He’d have to prove the thefts to them first.

  Arabella clutched him tighter. “Does that mean what I think it does?” she whispered, panic lacing her voice. He gave a quick nod, holding a finger up to his mouth. He didn’t want them to be discovered now. Good as Arabella was with a knife, the two of them could not overpower so many men.

  And besides, he only needed to follow the same man again to find Sir Thomas another night. The next time, he wouldn’t bring Arabella but the other lords who ran the club. Together, they’d easily catch Sir Thomas and mete out their own justice.

  That was task number one.

  He turned to leave, pull Arabella away, when he caught the next sentence, clear as day. The wind had receded and their voices drifted over the thin night air with ease.

  “Petty theft is getting old,” the man he’d followed from the Den of Sins said as he spit on the ground. “If we did one big take, we’d make a month’s worth of profits in a single night.”

  Sir Thomas shook his head. “Most of the clubs are too well run.”

  “Not the Den of Sins,” the man said with a leer coloring his voice. “They’re still learning the ropes and most nights it’s just the woman…”

  Edge bristled to think of these thieves targeting Arabella. No man or woman could stand up to a group like this alone.

  “She’s good with knives,” Sir Thomas said. “I’ve seen it myself.”

  “I bet she’s good at other things too,” another man cackled. “And if we all paid her a visit, I’d bet we’d be able to collect all the spoils.”

  A round of male laughter followed that and he felt Arabella tremble against his side, her body pressing closer. Her breath was shallow against his neck as her cheek pressed against his shoulder.

  “So we find out what nights she’s alone,” another added. “And then we attack.”

  Anger, hot and fierce, burned in his belly as his teeth ground together.

  It wasn’t his job to protect Arabella. He reminded himself of that.

  But he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he’d kill any man who’d try and hurt her.

  He wrapped a protective arm around her waist, drawing her closer still as he started to back away once again. Her heart pounded against his ribs.

  She continued to lean into him as he started back down the alley, making quick work of leaving the docks and entering respectable London.

  She wrapped an arm about him too, her weight pressed into his side as the moved quickly through the night.

  Hailing a hack, he thought to take her back to the club but as he helped her into the carriage, he whispered, “What’s
your address?”

  “One hundred twenty-three Buckleberry Street.”

  With a quick nod he gave instructions to the driver. At this time of night, they moved quickly through the city and arrived at a small but smart townhome near Cheapside in minutes. It was an excellent address for a woman like her, though the elite would never live among the merchant class.

  He paid the driver and then led Arabella down the side alley and then around to the kitchen door, but she stopped near the back gate looking up at him. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” He looked down at her, confusion marking his brow.

  “I…” she swallowed. “My fear. It ruined your investigative attempt. I never become afraid like that. I don’t know what happened.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “It’s not all right. And it wasn’t even that they threatened to hurt me. But the idea that this is a large group and that they are all working against us… I’ve had this feeling of late—” But she stopped short.

  “It is going to be all right,” he answered, looking down at her with a smile. “But I meant that you did not ruin my investigation.”

  She blinked in confusion as she stared back. “What do you mean?”

  “I got what I came for. I found the spy and know how to track down Sir Thomas. I’d consider that a success. And we know the direction their plans are heading. We’re much better off than we were just a few hours ago.”

  She nodded. “I know but I never allow my emotions to overcome me like that and what if there are hundreds of men working to steal from us. How could I ever fight that…”

  He couldn’t help himself. He pulled her close, “Arabella, everyone is entitled to panic in a situation like that. It’s no small task chasing criminals about seedy neighborhoods through the night.”

  “I don’t normally…” her words tapered off and she shook her head. “I never let my fear show.”

  He understood those words and the meaning under them. She felt fear, she just refused to acknowledge it. And he was honored, she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of him. And he’d make sure he did everything in his power to keep her safe.