Page 38 of A Whisper Of Desire (The Disgraced Lords #4)

Chapter Sixteen

T he boredom she felt was unexpected. It had been exciting at first to watch Maitland play vingt-et-un.

He started off keeping his winnings small, and then in the last half hour began to make bigger wagers.

Watching how the game was played, she now understood how a man of Maitland’s ability with numbers could win against the house by memorizing the cards that had already been played.

Now she was bored and simply wanted the night to end. Instead, Marisa used this time to watch for Simon. She hadn’t seen either brother since arriving at the club two hours ago.

It would not be a good idea to ask after them either. She didn’t wish anyone to know of her interest, just in case they were being watched.

Maitland turned his head and beckoned for her to lean forward. She was sitting behind him, watching the table over his shoulder. She leaned forward and flung her arms round his neck. He whispered into her ear, “We may be here a bit longer than I thought. The house has started cheating.”

Kissing his cheek, she returned his whisper. “Can you still win?”

“Of course, but it might take a bit longer, and it means Francis has been alerted to my winnings. Stay near me, as there could be trouble.”

The tension evident in his shoulders saw her massaging his neck without realizing she was doing it. Then movement in the adjoining room caught her eye. Her hands stopped the massage and began to squeeze hard instead. Maitland finally looked up. She nodded toward the door.

Arend was here. Maitland followed her stare and reached back to squeeze her hand, pulling her forward. She bent her head to hear him.

“If Arend’s here, it means Angelo’s back. Don’t leave that seat.”

Arend didn’t come into the gaming room. He was still in the drawing room, where she could hear another sex performance starting.

An idea struck. Perhaps Arend could be persuaded to find the boys. She sat back in her seat, chewing on her bottom lip, wondering how to get Arend’s attention. She hoped he’d come to the gaming room.

Rather than following the cards, her eyes remained glued to the door. Her hopes rose when she saw Arend heading toward the gaming room, but before he could reach them, a man intercepted him.

The stranger was fair-haired and tall. Broad-shouldered. She couldn’t make out his features, but the man seemed to know Arend.

Arend appeared to be having a heated conversation with the man. When Arend made to move round him, the man grabbed his arm, and she watched Arend angrily shake him off. To her horror, the man simply followed Arend into the gaming room.

When Arend reached her side he ignored her completely and bent to speak to Maitland.

At the start of this charade, they had discussed a plan, should Angelo return to the club before they had completed their task.

Arend had been pretty sure Francis would send word to his boss about Maitland being at the club and winning.

Hence, tonight would be the only night they had to break the house.

If Angelo returned, their plan was for Arend to make a scene, trying to get Maitland to leave the club. He would push Marisa away while they argued, to indicate that Arend was not happy that his friend was in a Molly club.

They hoped this would allay Angelo’s fear about this being a planned strategy, and mean he’d let Maitland continue to play another night.

Arend’s push when it came was harder than she’d been expecting, and before she could grab hold of Maitland, her chair tipped over backward, and in a tangle of arms and legs she crashed to the floor. Her head hit the wooden edge of the chair’s back and pain slammed into her skull.

Maitland cursed and surged to his feet, pushing Arend out of his way.

The young lad from last night was bending to pick her up. “No one touches him except me.” Everyone stopped playing and silence hung in the air along with the cheroot smoke. “Arend, collect my winnings, if you please. We are leaving.”

A sound akin to a moan came from between her lips and her face was as pale as ice. Everything within him screamed to get her out of this club.

As he was lifting her into his arms a man said, “It would appear His Grace is leaving. Such a pity, when he was on such a long winning streak.” Amusement filled the words. “Perhaps it is just as well, or I may have had to ask a duke to leave my club.” The tone, in an instant, turned icy.

Maitland couldn’t care less. He simply pushed past the man he assumed was Angelo and made for the exit. Arend stayed to scoop up his winnings.

“Is he all right?” the young man asked, as Maitland made his way to the entrance.

Maitland merely nodded. The young lad followed. When they reached the door, two of Angelo’s men barred their exit. Marisa was stirring in his arms and he wanted to leave before she protested their sudden departure.

“Get out of the way,” Maitland growled at the towering masses before him.

Marisa wriggled and her eyes kept fluttering closed. “Get Clarence,” she whispered, and she tried to reach for the young lad behind him.

Angelo barked something at the lad before turning to confront Maitland.

Maitland kept his gaze focused on the club owner, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the lad push something into Marisa’s hand.

“Don’t ever return to my club, Your Grace. I’m only letting you leave now because I understand this idea was probably Arend’s.” With Marisa in his arms, Maitland could do nothing as Angelo reached out and stroked Marisa’s face. “So like her brother.”

Bloody hell. Angelo knew whom he held in his arms. Maitland cursed out loud.

Angelo moved in close to whisper quietly. “Did you think you could fool me? Your wife is the image of Lord Coldhurst, and I know he does not have any brothers.” He clicked his fingers at the two men guarding their exit. “You can leave. I don’t want to see either of you here again.”

The thug opened the door and stepped aside just as Arend arrived.

“You should have waited, and paid me what I want, Arend. I have the information you are seeking.”

“I don’t suppose you feel inclined to share,” Arend asked with a raised eyebrow. “Out of the goodness of your black heart.”

Angelo laughed and clapped Arend on the shoulder. “You know what I require, Grayson Devlin, Lord Blackwood, on his knees before me.”

Halfway through the door, Maitland stopped at Angelo’s words. He looked over his shoulder directly at Arend, whose face was a mask of seething rage. Arend had known. Arend knew what Angelo wanted in exchange for the information.

“That’s never going to happen. Why can’t you want money like any other normal person?” Arend growled.

“Grayson slighted me and he will pay.”

“Christ. Slighted you? Angelo, hundreds of men have slighted you.” When Angelo said nothing, Arend looked at Maitland before turning back to Angelo. “Can’t you let the past go? This is too important to play games. If you’ve learned something, you’re now a target too. Help us and it helps you.”

“Bring Grayson to me and you’ll have your name.”

The idea of Grayson on his knees to this pervert made Maitland’s stomach curdle. Arend launched himself at Angelo, only to be tackled to the ground by one of the huge thugs guarding the door.

Arend yelled at him, “Go. Make sure Marisa’s safe. Angelo won’t hurt me.”

“Not much, anyway,” Angelo laughed. “I won’t kill him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Arend and I have a history. I might simply remind him of that fact.”

Undecided, he hesitated before Arend again and yelled, “Go.”

His Tiger Matthew saw him emerge from the club with Marisa in his arms and soon they were ensconced inside—safe.

Marisa stirred and he focused on what was most important. Arend could take care of himself until help came. He vowed he’d collect Hadley and return as soon as his doctor had seen to Marisa.

“You are fussing. It’s only a bump on the head. Turn the carriage round and go back for Arend.”

The desire to take her home and lock her away forever to keep her safe burned in his blood. She was important to him. She was— his life. He needed her in his life like he needed air to breathe.

She sat on his lap, cradled in his arms, and he hugged her.

“Hey. You are squeezing too tightly.” But she had a huge smile on her face. “Go back for Arend. I really am quite all right.” She placed her finger on his lips. “I’ll wait in the carriage.”

He pushed her finger aside and pressed a kiss to her lips before banging on the carriage roof. “I’ll collect Hadley first.” Once he’d given instructions to go to Hadley’s townhouse, he ran his fingers over the back of Marisa’s head. The skin had not broken, but she had a lump the size of an egg.

“Arend knows Angelo. Aren’t you at all curious as to the connection?” Marisa asked.

“Arend has always been something of an enigma. He withdrew from our group for a few years. Said he was on the Continent. We thought that odd, given the war with Napoleon.”

Marisa remained silent. Arend held secrets. Anyone looking at him could tell that much. He was the dark, silent, brooding type. Perhaps that is why, along with his good looks, women found him irresistible—a challenge to conquer.

Once they’d collected Hadley, the two men discussed how to handle Angelo.

“Time for niceties is long past. The man is playing a dangerous game.” Hadley pulled off his gloves and shoved them into the pocket of his greatcoat. “We have to do whatever is necessary to make him reveal what he knows.”

Maitland nodded. “Perhaps Arend is doing that as we speak.”

The two men exchanged a look.

“Where do you think Angelo will have taken him?” Maitland asked.

“His tented drawing room. Do you know where it is?”

“Yes, on the second floor at the back of the house. Marisa and I were interviewed by Francis in that room.”

The carriage pulled up to the door of the Top Hat and the men disembarked. “Stay in the carriage,” Maitland said. “I hope we will not be long.”