Gail Ranstrom - A Rake by Midnight

Charles bowed to Gina before he turned to his brother. “Here you are, Jamie. We’re late for our appointment, and we ought to leave these good people to their evening.”

Bella shook her head in feigned disbelief. “I tried to persuade him that they were welcome to stay for dinner, but Charles would not hear of it.”

“Quite right. We are expected elsewhere,” James confirmed as he stepped away from the bench.

The men bowed, but before they departed, James looked at her, something unreadable in his eyes before he turned and disappeared along the garden path. A vague feeling of disappointment filled Gina at their departure.

Bella led her through the library doors and went to the console table to pour sherry into a glass and bring it to her. “I had no idea!”

Gina accepted the glass and took a healthy gulp. “Of what?”

“That you were in love with James.”

She choked, the sherry burning her throat. Love? Oh, to the contrary. She could barely endure his company. “You are mistaken, Bella. I am not in love with Mr. Hunter. If I am awkward in his presence, it is because I do not like to keep his company. He…he…saw me.” Indeed, he was a reminder of all she had endured. Of all she had lost. And that was what she’d been at a loss to explain to him mere moments ago.

Bella gave her a wise older-sister smile. “Perhaps that is why he is so drawn to you. ’Tis almost painful to watch him when you are in the same room. He cannot tear his eyes from you.”

“Because he imagines me naked! It…it is lasciviousness, Bella, and nothing more.”

“Truly?” But Bella looked doubtful. “He looked genuinely distraught when Mama announced she was taking you home to Ireland.”

Because he would have liked to waltz with her? She caught her breath at the sudden pain in her chest at the realization that, had things been different, had that night never occurred, she would have liked to waltz with him, too.

That night at the Crown and Bear tavern, Jamie Hunter rolled his eyes in disgust. “Good Lord, Charlie, you haven’t had that much to drink. Focus, man!”

Charlie grinned, a canny look on his face. “I’m not far gone, Jamie. I’m thinking of something else.”

“Someone else, more likely. Who is it this time?”

“The sweet little thing you just cast off. Suzette.”

“That was two months ago.” Jamie leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “But Suzette can make the blood boil, can she not? Alas, what will she do when you move on to another demirep? She’s damned near made a career of the Hunter brothers. You’re the lone holdout, Charlie.”

“Well, I am not holding out any longer. Suzette was saving the best for last. She is fond of the tall, dark and handsome sort.” He waggled his eyebrows at Jamie and chuckled. “I’ve seen the congé she has acquired from Lockwood, Drew and you. I’d be willing to wager she could retire if she sold those jewels.”

“Why would she retire when she has yet another Hunter brother to fleece?”

“I daresay you all got your money’s worth. I know I shall.”

Jamie shrugged. He couldn’t say why he’d tired of Suzette Lamont, only that he had. Though, when he thought about it, he’d reached that decision very soon after his family had become involved with the O’Rourkes.

He suppressed a shiver and came back to the conversation. “Just be a gentleman when you leave, Charlie. Suzette deserves that much.”

“Aye, she was so devastated when you left that she took up with a German not a week later. Ah, but she’s done with him now, and ’tis my turn.”

“Made a pauper of him, more likely. Watch your purse strings, brother.”

“Jealous?”

Was he? Perhaps just a touch. Suzette was skilled and had taught him much about pleasing a woman. And he was beginning to feel the effects of prolonged celibacy. The fleeting thought that perhaps he needed a woman to take the edge off his lust for Eugenia made him shake his head in disgust. He downed his whiskey in a single gulp.

This eschewing of mistresses was what came of being around his older brothers. They’d become domesticated so quickly that he could scarce believe it. Lockwood had taken to marriage like a duck to water. Andrew, a libertine to rival the worst, was now a happy house cat, curling by his fire with his favorite new toy—Bella.

Ah, yes, and here came the latest in a long line of newly domesticated tomcats. Devlin Farrell. A man whose slightest twitch had roused terror in seasoned criminals was now a well-contented newlywed who literally worshipped his wife.

“Gents,” he greeted them. “I see you started without me.”

Charlie laughed. “I have no doubt you’ll catch up, Farrell.”

Devlin signaled the barkeeper and a tankard of ale magically appeared. “I have no intention of catching up. Lilly is waiting at home. Wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”

Jamie snorted. He very much doubted Lilly would be disappointed tonight, or any other night if he was any judge at all. If there was no saint like a reformed sinner, Devlin Farrell would soon have his own niche at St. Paul’s.

After a long drink, Devlin answered their unasked question. “No sign of them, but I’ve confirmed they are still in the vicinity. Tell the secretary his information is wrong.”

“We suspected as much.” Charlie sat a bit straighter, as if he had suddenly shaken off the effects of the whiskey. “And is there, indeed, a price on Jamie’s head?”

“A rather large one.”

Jamie grinned. “How much am I worth?”

“Ten thousand pounds.”

Charlie whistled and rolled his eyes. “There should be at least a dozen takers at that price.”

“At least,” Devlin agreed. “But common cutthroats do not have the finesse to take our Jamie by surprise.”

Ten thousand pounds was, nevertheless, a daunting sum. Jamie shifted uneasily in his chair, taking the threat seriously for the first time. Who would come after him first? He held Devlin’s gaze. “Will it be the Gibbons brothers?”

The corners of Devlin’s mouth quirked. “They’re mean as snakes and will turn on you in a trice, but blast if they aren’t sometimes useful. They’ll do anything for money, though I don’t know what they do with it once it’s in their hands.”

“Wish they’d get a bath,” Charlie muttered. “Or buy some manners.”

“It’s a mystery.” Devlin shrugged. “They live in a hovel, never invest in a bar of soap, pick their clothes out of rag piles, eat garbage and even share their whores so they only have to pay for one. They must have a fortune amassed somewhere.”

“Two more pathetic creatures I’ve never seen.”

“Oh, I don’t know….” Devlin’s right eyebrow shot up as he glanced between Jamie and Charlie.

Jamie and Charlie burst out laughing and toasted each other as if to confirm Devlin’s analysis.

Devlin sat back in his chair and his expression sobered. “In view of the risk to you, Jamie, I’d like you to accept a bodyguard or two. I know just the men, and—”

“They’d get in the way. Make me conspicuous. And do not think to set them on me without my knowledge. I’d mistake them for bounty hunters and have to kill them.”

Devlin did not look happy. “I might have a lead for you. If you handle it with your usual skill, you could end this thing quickly.”

Jamie sat forward and lowered his voice. “What do you have up your sleeve, Devlin?”

“That night, at the ritual, when the charleys arrived and the brotherhood scattered down the tunnels, I recognized a few men. Some, you already know about. But I haven’t mentioned that I saw Stanley Metcalfe and Adam Booth. They looked confused and frightened and, unless I miss my guess, that was their first time at a ritual, and is the reason I did not pursue them. They’ve kept their noses clean since, though.”