Chapter Fifteen

No good deed goes unpunished.

The lists of her regrets today kept growing and growing. She should not have given into the temptation of the scent covering Warrick's robe and worn it. She should not have wandered about the house and struck up conversations with servants to tease out information about their employer instead of thinking about the consequences of acting as though this were her house, and these her servants. She should not have admitted to seducing Warrick, angering her brother to the point of being dragged back home and locked in her chamber.

Locked.

As in he had turned the key and locked her inside.

Insufferable man!

Did he honestly believe a locked door could keep her inside their house? Had he forgotten she'd had learned to climb through windows and up and down trees as a child? She also had a meeting she could not miss. Yet another thing she regretted—this meeting.

Also coming alone.

Selena sighed. The chaos of this morning must have addled her brain. Amidst all the shouting, as she'd had been hauled off by her brother, she had not missed the unfathomable look in Warrick's gaze. There was no emotion, as though he had suppressed every last drop. Yet his gaze had remained so intense that the hairs on the back of her neck had only settled back down in the familiar setting of her bedchamber.

Why can't I say yes?

Yes to marriage, yes to him.

He was a good match, and she was quite fond of him. More than fond. He brought out in her a passion no other could claim to accomplish. And yet she could not utter the words that would clear the mess they were now mired in. Not even after acting the lady in his house!

She'd almost given in.

Almost.

Him standing strong, not allowing his closest friends rob them of her choice... it was so appealing that she'd almost acquiesced. But she would rather die than allow anyone to browbeat her into marriage.

Her gaze surveyed the ramshackle building falling to pieces brick by brick. Late afternoon, night had not yet claimed the day, but an overcast sky brought with it a light drizzle and moody feeling.

Well, it's now or never, Selena.

She cast one last look at the hired coach, the driver having promised to wait for her, before she entered the building.

The temperature dropped a degree.

She just needed to remain calm, quiet, and patient. Nothing bad was going to happen to her. Her death would assuredly give rise to inquiries, would it not?

She hadn't quite known where the person would meet her, but she didn't have to wait long. The pitter patter of footsteps alerted Selena to another person, and a woman's voice issued from the shadows.

"You came."

"You thought I wouldn't?" Selena asked with a guarded tone she reserved for those who were not enemies but not yet friends. They must have been watching her, and even if they weren't, the scene at the alehouse should have brought her to their attention, if nothing else, but what sort of attention that was, she could not yet say.

"I wasn't sure, to be frank." A figure appeared from the darkness. Cloaked in red. "I didn't think you would come alone."

"I'm here." But she didn't want to tarry. "And I'm not alone." A bluff if there ever was one. "Why did you ask to meet?"

"We have something you want, and you have something we want."

Now that was interesting, and it surprised Selena. "What could I possibly have that you want?"

"The betting book you stole from White's."

Her entire body froze and, for a second, even her brain. They wanted that old, cursed misery of a book? "Why ever would you want the book?"

"That is our business."

Fair enough. She didn't care anyway. "And what would I receive in turn for the book?" Selena already suspected the answer.

"An invitation into our club."

Finally.The long-awaited invitation.

How unfortunate that she felt no relief, no giddiness whatsoever, after receiving the one thing she'd wanted for so long.

"Do not tell me you don't want our invitation anymore?" the voice asked when she did not reply.

Anymore.The arrogance! Not misplaced though . . .

But why now? "Won't the book be my business too if I enter the club?" Selena asked instead of answering the woman's question.

"You are a sharp one." The woman chuckled. "Yes, it will, but that is business for when you join. And the betting book is the price of admission."

How curious. "Do all members pay a price of admission?"

"Of course. No club is without its membership fees. Ours is merely a once-off fee of money, object, or favor."

Money, object, or favor?

Theodosia would be dying of laughter by now, pointing a finger—I told you so.

"If the betting book is the price of admission, why ask for it only now? We've had it for weeks."

"Yes, but we didn't know who stole the book. Then a few of you released copies of its pages. After that, we had to observe you and decide who best to approach."

"And I'm the only one who showed blatant interest in joining your club."

"You have been quite obvious about it, yes."

"Why meet me in such a horrifying place?" Selena crossed her arms. "Could we not have met elsewhere?"

"My apologies for the unpleasantness of the location, but you have people following you, so we had to be careful."

Was she talking about Warrick? Selena didn't think that was the only reason she chose this as their meeting place.

"What if I don't have the book?"

"It would be best not to lie us, Lady Selena."

"How would you know if I am lying?" Well these people didn't know everything then. She honestly didn't have the book anymore.

"I assure you, we have our ways. You have two days to decide."

Her brows furrowed. "Only two?"

"Yes, and before you question our timeline, all members received two days to make their decision to join or not."

"Very well, but what happens if I don't hand over the book?"

The woman laughed, causing Selena to frown. Where had she heard this laughter before? It sounded somewhat familiar. "Then the next time we meet, it shall not be in a warehouse."

Shivers broke out all over her skin. She would not consider herself the best judge of character, but she was no simpleton. That one sentence was filled with unspoken meaning, and lined with a sly undertone an infant would recognize.

She should have alerted Warrick. But she hadn't. She'd thought a bit of space would help clear her mind, especially after the debacle with her brother earlier today. Yet another regret to dwell on.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Selena's gaze flicked to the shadows beyond the woman. Earlier she'd had her reservations, now uneasiness clamped down on her chest. What did they want with the betting book? Did us mean the club? Why not say club then? What if they were actually a cult rather than your run of the mill secret female club? And how did they know—or think they know—she had the book?

"Oh, nothing much," the woman said. "Merely that we have shown you a courtesy by allowing to hand the book over with your two hands and as a result, join us. We could use a lady such as yourself on our side."

"Then tell me this, what is your club about?"

"Liberation."

"Of whom?"

"Can you not guess?

She stared that the woman's faceless form, her mind conflicted. Men? Society? The possibilities were too endless for a mere guess, but she didn't want to prolong this conversation further. "I shall consider your proposal."

"There is, of course, another condition."

Of course, there was.

Why was nothing ever simple with secret clubs? "What is it?" Selena asked. And why wait until now to reveal it?

"Cut all ties with the Earl of Warrick."

Selena blinked. Did she hear that wrong? "Excuse me?"

"Cut all ties with the Earl of Warrick. That is the last condition."

"Why on earth do you want me to do that?" What was it about this man? Everyone either wanted her to accept all ties or cut all ties. How tiring.

And... Selena narrowed her eyes on the figure. How did they know there were ties that could be cut?

"You are not willing? It's a simple enough request."

Not true. There was nothing, not one single dratted thing, that was simple about it! Unless you call giving the man you fancy your innocence "simple." And besides, she did not want to cut ties with him. "That might be a bit difficult. He is my brother's best friend." And mine.

"That is neither here nor there. He's been following you around like a dog who has misplaced his owner. I want it to stop."

Unease spread through Selena. A dog who misplaced its owner? Then who would the owner be? "I daresay whether he follows me about or not has nothing to do with the club."

"Not the club, no. Me."

Selena went cold. "If you wish for me to cut ties with the earl, you must at least tell me why."

"Warrick is my lover."

His name on this person's lips, even if just the title, along with lover, caused Selena's breath to catch. Instant denial welled up within her. "That's impossible."

Because I am his lover.

"I assure you, Lady Selena, I very much am." The woman suddenly laughed. "I see you are quite shocked. Do not tell me you've designs on the earl."

"I have not."

Liar.

"That is good. I fear your heart would be broken if you did. In any event, those are the conditions. Hand over the betting book. Cut ties with Warrick." Selena flinched. "You have two days to decide. I will send you a new meeting location soon."

"Are you the founder of this club?"

A short burst of laughter. "Goodness, no. I am merely the spokesperson she chose."

Selena clenched her jaw. "Will she be at the next meeting?"

The cloaked woman paused.

"That is my condition." Selena lifted her chin, staring straight at woman. "If I am to cut ties with a family friend and hand over the book, I expect to hand the book over to the person in charge."

"As you wish. I am certain she won't have a problem accepting the book personally from your hands. She's been wanting to get her own hands on it for a while."

"Why did she not come tonight then?"

"Do you have the book here?"

Selena said nothing to that.

Another grating chuckle. "Until next time, then, Lady Selena."

Selena stood in the abandoned warehouse, staring at the spot where the woman had disappeared, lost in thought.

Warrick had a lover.

And it wasn't her.

She was going to throttle him. But only after she decided whether or not to join the club.

*

Warrick crushed thenote in his hand as he surveyed his surroundings. Whitechapel. One of the worst parts of London. Not a place any lady should wander about alone. His jaw ached just thinking how he had once again been left behind.

Selena Savage, justyou wait.

He didn't have a good feeling about this as he strode up to the warehouse where the meeting was to be. He was late. Bloody drunken riots on one of the streets. Furthermore, it was dark, wet, and smelled like rotting carcasses.

He should have shackled them both to his bed when he'd had the chance. That way, they could have ignored reality for a bit longer. Instead, he was here. Cold. Miserable. Mood as foul as the smell in the air. He caught a glimpse of sandy hair dashing to a carriage ahead.

Oh, no, you don't.

Warrick quickened his pace, almost to a jog. He didn't go for stealth, his footsteps echoing through on the cobbles of the street. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Warrick?" Her face went slack at his approach. Good. "What... what are you doing here?"

"That is a question best left for you to answer." He snatched her wrist and tossed the driver three coins. "She'll be riding with me."

The man tipped his head and flicked the reins.

"I was not going to fight against you." She tugged at her wrist. "And you are here, so you must have guessed why I am here."

He lifted the note in his hand while leading her back to his carriage.

"So that's what happened," she murmured. "I thought I lost it."

Warrick held fast to his calm. "You sought me out to tell me about this, but you didn't. Why?" This bothered him the most. Why seek him out and then change her mind? Had he done something wrong? Even if she'd simply forgotten, she could have sent word to him later. But catching her in the act confirmed she hadn't meant to include him anymore.

"After what happened this morning, I thought it best not to involve you. I also didn't know whether I would be able to slip away without getting caught."

"Is that really your reason?" He ushered her into the carriage, brushed the rain from his hair, and followed her in.

She didn't answer.

Fine, then. He wouldn't push. "Just tell me if I did something wrong or not—if that is why you didn't tell me."

"Of course not," she said softly. "You did nothing wrong."

That was something, he supposed. A small release from the reservoir of other things that plagued him. Like, "Why, after you left my bed this morning, did you prance about my house without a care?"

Her cheeks flushed. "Yes, well, I have been regretting that particular deed of mine."

Warrick studied her. "If you were going to be so reckless, you could have stayed in bed with me."

"I couldn't stay there forever. I had to leave sometime." She exhaled a deep breath. "Then I had this mad urge, and you know the rest."

He would never forget that "rest" for the rest of his life. Still, "Why didn't you wake me?"

"Would you have wakened me?" she countered.

Warrick clamped his jaw shut. No. Not in a thousand years.

"You see."

Fine, it was in the past, anyway. He rapped on the roof and the carriage shot forward. There were other more pressing matters. "Who did you meet here?"

She arched a brow. "Have you not guessed?"

"Do not be snippy, Selena. This is serious. Do you know how dangerous this part of London is for a woman? Alone? You didn't even bring a footman! You hailed a damn hackney. What if something had happened to you tonight? How do you think I would feel? How would your brother feel?" He removed his gloves and dragged a hand through his hair. "This is the exact reason why Saville put a watchdog on you. He was afraid of you running amok with no regard for your safety."

"I am not running amok," she protested, her brows furrowing.

"Then what are you doing?" Warrick challenged. "Do you even know? Not that I can blame you even if you don't. I hardly know what the hell I'm doing."

A hand settled on his knee. "I understand, all right?" Her eyes met his. "I made a mistake, I won't deny that." She patted his leg before retracting her arm and settling back. "I met a woman here. She was cloaked. They extended an invitation to the club."

His heart started pounding in his chest. "Does this look like a place any club with good intentions would extend an invitation?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps it was a test."

"Test, my arse. Tell me you are not going to join them."

"I'm not sure. They gave me time to decide."

He waved the note in her face. She could not be this na?ve. "This is not an invitation, Selena. This is not a test."

"Then what is it, Phineas? Perhaps this is just their own unique method."

"How the hell should I know? If the club has this sort of an initiation, or whatever the hell it is, it's better not to join." Mortimer said the club was up to no good. That the people, women or not, were dangerous. This location, in his mind, confirmed the duke's suspicion. However, if he told Selena that, she might join just for the thrill of it. So what the hell to do?

"What initiation does White's have?" she asked.

"What do you mean initiation? The club has membership fees."

"Well, perhaps this is the price for joining this particular club."

"Are you certain it's worth paying?" He didn't think so. "From the looks of it, not only is the price steep, but it might also collect a good portion of your soul."

Her lips quirked. "A portion of my soul?"

"What?" he muttered. "It might very well be the case. And if not yours, then mine. You running about London as though no danger will ever touch you claims a bit of me every time."

She averted her gaze, and after a moment, a small sigh pushed past her lips. "You followed after me, didn't you?"

"But you didn't know that I would."

Her lips parted, then shut again.

Warrick shut his eyes. "What the hell happened? I thought we had an understanding."

"What understanding? You avoided me for six days, didn't you?"

His eyes opened to meet hers. "Then did I misunderstand you coming into my chamber alone? Kissing me? Accepting me as a lover?"

Her eyes suddenly narrowed on him, something indecipherable flashing in the depth of those dark irises. "Are we lovers? Or did we just make love in a moment of impulse?"

He couldn't have heard that correctly. "A moment of impulse? Are you telling me you only used me to satiate your desires?"

"Did we not use each other? I was not the only one with impulses."

"Damn it, I didn't use you, Selena." Why would she even think that?

He matched her probing stare, but to his surprise, she looked away first. That single action was like a punch to the gut. Saville's blows could not even come close. He could practically feel her dismissive air filling the carriage.

"This is not the time to debate this matter," she finally said, still not meeting his eye.

Warrick refused to look away from her for even one second. They had come such a long way since the days he merely followed her around, breached so many boundaries with each other, and taken the first step toward being together in a more permanent way. But this club... he was afraid she would choose to join it if he warned her against it, terrified she would if he didn't. Deep beneath this predicament, however, lay the true source of his fear—that no matter what choice he made, she would never choose him. That she'd always choose something else.

Another small sigh broke through the rattle of wheels and clapping hooves of the horses. It clung to the space between them. Her head turned back to him, her gaze filled with helplessness.

"This is all your fault, you know."

Warrick stilled. The blood drained from his body moments before it rushed back up. "I beg your pardon?"

"This is all your fault." That look of helplessness turned sharp. "Everything is all your fault."

Warrick's mind just... froze. It was beyond the scope of his abilities to decipher what the hell was happening. What exactly was his fault?

She shook her head. "And I don't know whether to thank you or boot you from the carriage."

"Selena, it would be better if you explain to me what exactly I am to blame for."

"Did this not all start with you and the rest of your gang?"

Warrick stared. "Are you referring to the list?"

"Well, that is the start of it all, is it not?"

Yes, but, "I thought you had moved past that." How long has it been? Hell, she'd seemed quite over it this morning. Had something happened between then and now that she wasn't telling him?

"How can I, when I'm constantly reminded of how I am but a tip of a finger in this world of wagging claws?" A helpless note remained.

Warrick wanted to drag a hand through his hair, pinch the bridge of his nose, rub his temples, and slam his fist against a wall. He didn't have enough hands for all his urges. So, he settled for clenching them.

"Forgive me for pointing this out," Warrick said, "but you are not making a whit of sense. How are you a fingertip?" If she was a fingertip, what the hell was he? "You didn't raid your brother's liquor cabinet, did you?"

"How male of you to assume that if I'm not making sense, I must have been drinking."

Well, what else was he to assume? How else was he to get her to speak to him, to share what's truly bothering her? "If you wish to blame me forever, I can take it." His shoulders were broad. "But I sense there is more than just the list behind this, and I can't do anything if you don't tell me what it is."

Again, she looked away.

"Selena."

She kept her gaze averted.

"What aren't we telling each other?" He pushed the desperation that surfaced back down, but some still spilled out. "I can be whatever you want me to be, too. Who, is the only question. Who do want me to be? Who do you want me to be to you?"

Her eyes lifted to his. "Why should we define and claim inconsequential terms?"

Warrick stared at her. She knew how to make his heart palpitate in all sorts of undesirable beats. "Are you talking about us as lovers?"

"I am speaking in general."

Warrick shut his eyes. "Damn this miserable curse. It must be flaring up again."

Calamity would befall him if he didn't marry before the age of thirty. What was this if not a form of calamity? What was this if not form of a curse?

A bitter truth dawned on him: He was dancing with disaster, and at any moment, the music could stop. And when that happened, he would either be standing with her by his side, or utterly alone.