Chapter Seventeen

Timing was everything.

Or so Shakespeare had claimed. Selena had always found it to be a matter of fate. Was it fate that finally gave her the one thing she'd been searching for weeks only to douse her joy with that one single condition? Was it fate that made that one single condition confess love to her that very same night?

A day had passed without as much as a word from either Warrick or her brother. It was like the two of them had vanished from her world. Perhaps they were both giving her space. Which could be expected of Warrick, but her brother...? Then again, it also wasn't unlike him to douse his anger at White's, or wherever young men went to douse their anger.

Their absence, however, was not what Selena was worried about.

A whole day had passed, and she still had no idea what she would do about the conditions or the confession. Since the very minute she'd first heard of the secret women's club, she wanted to find this it in the hope of carving an identity for herself that moved beyond heiress, the sister of the Earl of Saville, and lady. She hadn't known what she would find, but there had been a renewed sense of purpose in her heart even in the searching.

Now... the timing of everything seemed a bit off.

For one, she didn't have the book anymore. Theodosia had it. She knew if she were to ask for it back, her friend would hand it over in a heartbeat, but it was not her book to give to the club. All the heiresses had a say.

Selena paused to consider her progress. "Something seems to be missing," she murmured to herself.

"Did you say something, my lady?"

Selena glanced at the maid below her and shook her head. "No, I was merely talking to my brother."

"The earl . . ."

Selena smiled. In one hand she held a palette filled with colors, and in the other a paintbrush. She pointed her brush at the portrait of Saville that decorated a large portion of the wall in the blue drawing room. "I like this version of my brother better. He is silent and does not retort back with whiplash comments. Quite pleasing to hold a conversation with him in this form. I should have done so much sooner."

"My lady, be careful on the stool."

"Oh, do not worry. I won't fall. But tell me, how does my brother look with this mustache?" She thought it rather fine.

"Very good, my lady."

She tapped her chin with the wooden end of her brush. "I think I shall give him a pair of devil's horns as well."

The maid retreated with a small bow. "Then I shall take my leave."

"Oh, Lucy," Selena called out. "Do retrieve all my brother's waistcoats from his closet and bring them here."

"My lady?"

"Along with a pair of scissors."

A hesitant pause. "As you wish, my lady."

Selena grinned at the painting before her. "It's so delightful to vent, do you not think so, brother?" She dipped her brush in a spot of red and proceeded to paint a small horn on his head. "What do you think about the conditions the club set? Shall I accept or not?"

Hand over the book.

Cut ties with Warrick.

One was manageable. All she had to do was calling a meeting of heiress and ask their permission. If they refused, the matter would be out of her hands. But the other condition... that was not so manageable. That was near impossible. Because he had confessed to her. He said he loved her.

Loved. Her.

Her infatuated heart couldn't be more overjoyed. However, the mere memory of that woman in the warehouse still left a sour taste in Selena's mouth. She had claimed they were lovers, dousing her joy every time she recalled it.

"I suppose I can't allow one woman to ruin this moment for me. Warrick's lover? What utter nonsense." She added more color onto her horns. "What do you think, brother? If she were Warrick's lover then she wouldn't be so desperate for me to cut ties with him, would she?" Selena paused. "It's an obvious test."

If she failed, they would retract their invitation. And it did also feel so personal.

And why did they even want the betting book? It was filled with nothing but a record of ridiculous pastimes of the masculine realm. In other words, they wanted a book filled with wagers of bored men.

Unless they wanted to use those wagers to blackmail certain people?

"Not so farfetched an idea..." She finished the other horn and leaned back slightly to observe her handiwork. "A much better representation."

Two maids returned with waistcoats in their arms, followed by Theodosia, who stopped dead in her tracks.

"What on earth are you doing?" her friend asked. "No, forget about that, what are you wearing?"

"Oh, this?" Selena glanced down at Warrick's robe. "Do you like it? It's my newest fashion craze."

"I shall pass," Theodosia said. "I prefer the Turkish trousers."

Selena stepped down from the stool, setting the palette and brush aside on a table. "You are just in time." She waved a hand over the waistcoats the maids placed on the divan before excusing themselves. "We are snipping these up." A little revenge for daring to lock her in her chamber, regardless of the futility of it. She couldn't move on without getting him back.

"Your brother's, I presume."

Selena nodded.

"As much as I wish to join you in your rampage, I don't have much time to spare. I came to tell you that I shall be leaving London on the morrow."

Selena blinked away her surprise. "I never thought you'd take my advice."

Theodosia picked at one of the waistcoats. "It's good advice. I'm also taking the betting book. I can't have that thing in the house when my brothers return, and I want to escape their scolding altogether."

Ask for the book."Is your mother joining you?"

Theodosia shook her head. "Which I'm forever grateful for. If I have to sit through one more cursed blind match up I might commit murder."

"She's just concerned for you."

"I know. I believe she is worried about my brothers' reactions to everything that's transpired so far this season, so she is allowing me to retire to our country estate."

"Well, that is good." Now is your chance. Ask for the book. "What time will you be leaving?"

"I'm not sure. Noon, perhaps. Why? Care to join me?"

Wouldn't that take care of everything and nothing at the same time! "I wish I could, but that would mean my brother would be following me."

"Please remain at home then." Theodosia grinned at the painting. "I'm surprised he didn't burst into the room to stop you."

"He has been avoiding me for the past day."

Theodosia nodded thoughtfully and took a seat against the pile of clothing, glancing at the waistcoats with interest.

"Tempted?" Selena asked.

"A little bit."

Selena handed her the pair of scissors. "Try it. I promise you will find it rewarding."

Theodosia paused, but only for the briefest of seconds, before accepting the scissors, inspecting the various selections of waistcoats. A purple one caught her eye. "I think he wore this one when he hounded me in the cardroom that time."

Ah, yes. Selena recalled that night. It was the night Warrick had stood up for her to her brother. Her heart did a little somersault. "Well then, it's the perfect one to slice into pieces."

Theodosia nodded, and a moment later the sound of snipping filled the drawing room. A smile blossomed on her face. "You are right. It is rather rewarding."

"I told you so."

Theodosia continued to snip. "Have you heard anything about your club yet?"

Selena stared at the mountain of cloth before her. She should open her mouth and ask for the book. She should tell her friend about the demands of the club. She burned to confess everything about Warrick, what they had done, how she felt.

But she couldn't.

Theodosia wouldn't leave London then, and her brothers might catch up to her. No, she couldn't put this weight on her friend's shoulders.

"They are as elusive as ever." She supposed that still remained true. They were also more questionable. More than ever.

"Well, if you cannot find them, you can always start your own. Nothing is stopping you."

"Oh, and would you join my club?" Selena asked with a smile. The idea did hold some appeal.

"I might consider it if it's you. We can all gather and discuss how to deal with the men of our families."

"That would make for an interesting topic." Her suggestion? Snip up their favorite clothes and turn them into devils.

Theodosia's eyes flicked to the painting of her brother again. "I must admit, my fingers are itching to apply some coal to his eyes and rouge to his cheeks."

"That..." Selena inspected the painting again. "That is a marvelous idea!" She pointed to the paintbrush. "Feel free to indulge your itchy fingers."

I can always ask for the book tomorrow before she leaves.

Yes, she still had time.

She would use every second.

*

Warrick had beenfurious many times in his life, but this was the first time he'd been livid to the point where his heart wanted to explode from his chest. Kidnapped. What infuriating madness was this? Who dared to kidnap two earls? To tie them up in a suspicions room and leave them to rot?

Whoever it was would surely pay for this.

This night had turned into a true, real-life nightmare. Just when one thing seemed to go right, another veered horribly wrong. He wanted to find Selena, but by the looks of it, they weren't escaping soon. He only prayed she was not in any danger.

"How tight are your bindings?" Warrick strained his arms against the rope that bound his hands behind his back. Nothing. He tried his legs, which were fastened to the chair. Nothing there either. He glanced down at the rope that circled his chest and secured him to the chair. These women weren't taking any chances.

Saville groaned, his voice straining. "Too tight to free myself." Saville glanced over. "They know how to bind a man."

Warrick grunted. "We should have gone for one of their pistols."

Saville shook his head. "I already got shot once. It still hurts like the devil."

Warrick hadn't forgotten about Saville's injury. "Don't push yourself too hard. I'll try loosening mine." They had to escape. The sooner the better. If not, then perhaps they could come to some sort of understanding with these women.

"Why did they cover our eyes anyway?" Saville asked as his gaze swept the room. "Any dolt could tell we're in a brothel."

Yes, and a cheap one at that. He surveyed the room. There wasn't much else besides a bed, a washstand, and the two chairs they were secured to. Red, time-worn wallpaper covered the chamber and had begun to peel, and a cold breeze escaped through a ghastly set of matching curtains. Other than that, the laughter of women, distant grunts, and the cloying scent of perfume mixed with that of old furniture gave their location away.

A tavern. A warehouse. A brothel. This group of women really had masked themselves well.

The door opened and the red-cloaked woman entered, followed by a big bulky man with a scar on his face. Warrick snorted, sneering, "I see you dressed to match the mood of the room."

She didn't rise to his taunt. "And I see you've settled in nicely. We would have taken you to the warehouse, but we decided to bring you here, where at least your limbs won't freeze from the cold. What do you think? Are you comfortable?"

Damn it. He knew that voice. Think, man.

"How gracious of you, madam," Saville mocked. "I shall be sure to show you the same sentiment when I'm freed."

The woman let out a faux sigh. "We never intended to involve you, Earl. Unfortunately, you were at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"So it's me you want?" Warrick asked. "Why? What insurance can I provide?"

"I'd also like to know the answer to that, since I am Selena's brother."

"Yes, but you are at odds with your sister. I daresay she would let you rot here before she helped you."

"You haven't answered my question yet. What is that that you wish to gain from Selena?" Warrick demanded.

"I suppose it won't hurt to tell you." The women leaned closer. "We want the betting book."

Sure enough.

This damn book had come back to haunt him. If only it could be the ghostlike type of haunting instead of the kidnapping sort of haunting by a bunch of madwomen. Why could it not have been a bloody ghost haunting?

"You want the betting book?" Saville asked. "Why?"

"Let us just say there are wagers in that book that are of importance to us."

"How can our club's wagers be useful to you?" Warrick asked. This couldn't have anything to do with the heiresses. Something else was at play here.

"That is no business of yours."

"Well, you've set your sights on the wrong heiress," Saville said. "Selena doesn't have the book."

"My sources tell me otherwise. And even if she does not have the book, she has one day left to retrieve it."

That caught Warrick's attention. "You plan to keep us here until you get the book?"

"Of course. As I said before, you are our insurance that she hands over the book."

Warrick narrowed his eyes on the red hood obscuring a mystery face. "You don't plan to include in her your club, do you? Or else you wouldn't have gone as far as kidnapping to force her hand."

"What need would we have of her? She is of no use to us beyond the book." The woman shrugged. "Perhaps in a few years."

"Damn crazy bat!" Saville growled. "Why don't you show your face?"

"Yes," Warrick agreed. "I would like to see this face of my lover."

"I'm hurt that you cannot recognize my voice." The woman pulled back the cloak and smiled at him.

Shock spread through Warrick.

Saville laughed. "Lady Ridgeland?" He looked at Warrick. "She is your lover?" Your taste leaves something to be desired, Saville's tone implied.

"She is not," Warrick bit out. She had only ever been a nuisance. "She never has been."

"Glad to hear it," Saville muttered under his breath, but not out of the earshot of anyone present.

Lady Ridgeland's smile froze. "Well, you might be glad to hear it, but Lady Selena was quite ready to believe in our connection—and quite shocked."

Warrick froze. "What the devil did you say to her?"

"Oh, just what you suspect, I'm sure."

"You mean you lied to her about us." Was that the true reason why Selena had acted so out of sorts when they last saw each other? But why hadn't she demanded answers from him? Given her character, she ought to have verbally boxed his ears.

"It's a lie for now."

Warrick sneered. "It's a lie forever."

"Needless to say, I felt spurned that day you rejected me at the Ashworth ball."

Warrick's mind raced. Had Selena believed this woman's words?

"Lady Selena has quite the decision to make, Warrick, dear," Lady Ridgeland continued. "She's been told that if she wants to join the club, she has to hand over the book and cut ties with you."

Warrick's temples ached. Had he known last night would take such a turn, he wouldn't have drunk brandy straight from the bottle. He could still feel the aftereffects of the alcohol, and his head had yet to fully clear.

"Why reveal your identity now?" Saville asked. "Is your little club not secret? What are you playing at?"

"Oh, I am but one member, and the power of denial is still strong in this world."

"Not when it comes to secrets," Warrick said. "All you need is a rumor."

"Yes, that's utter nonsense," Saville agreed. "And if you are but one member, it means you are not in charge. We would like to speak to whoever you are taking your orders from, please."

"I'm afraid that is not possible. I am tasked with procuring the book. How I do it is up to my own ingenuity, but no other members will be further involved."

"And would your founder be happy that you revealed yourself to us?"

"She is too busy to worry about such irrelevant matters."

"To worry about your games, you mean. Is that why you lied to Selena and demanded she cut ties with me?" Warrick demanded.

This troubled him more than he liked to admit. He cared little about the betting book, though he'd rather not have it fall into the hands of Lady Ridgeland. However, Selena might hand over the book for a chance to join.

But cutting him out of her life . . .

He didn't know where he stood with her. She had resisted marriage to him even while barging into his chamber. Her actions did not always align with her words. Hadn't she herself jested about fickleness? Then there was his failed confession. And most unnervingly, there was also the week he had cut ties with her. Though his intentions had been good, it hadn't been perceived that way. She could, he realized—she could very well cut ties with him. She could very well give him up to try to join a club she had declared she wanted to find above all else. The comprehension burned in his gut.

"My sister won't cut ties with Warrick."

Warrick glanced at Saville in surprise at this defense.

"Can you claim that with absolute certainty?" Lady Ridgeland asked with a smile that shot cold shivers down Warrick's spine.

"Yes," Saville said. "She loves him."

Warrick's eyes widened. "Saville," he said in a warning tone. What are you doing? Don't goad the madwoman. In the same breath, his heart did things it didn't normally do. Could Saville truly know such a thing about his sister?

"What?" Saville blinked at him innocently. "The two of you are more lovers than you are with this creature before us." He turned his attention back to Lady Ridgeland. "They kissed. We almost dueled over it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Your attempt to provoke me won't work."

"I even found her in his house, wearing his robe. Damn near stopped my heart."

"Saville," Warrick ground out. Did he realize he was aiding in his sister's ruin?

Lady Ridgeland huffed. "I suppose that shall make watching her choose us over him all the more rewarding."

Warrick scowled at her.

"Don't worry. I don't truly want you as my lover, Warrick, dear. I'm merely enjoying your anguish."

"Why the hell would you do such a thing?"

"Punishment, my dear." She sauntered over to him and traced a gloved finger over his jaw. "You see, when you reject a woman and make her feel like a dirty piece of cloth, there are consequences."

"That was never my intention," Warrick bit out, hating her hands on him.

"And yet that was how I felt."

He averted his gaze and grit his teeth. "How you feel is not my responsibility."

"I beg to differ," she said cheerily.

Warrick bit down on his teeth. There was no arguing with a woman who refused to own up to her actions.

Unbidden, thoughts of his curse surfaced. If he had wed before thirty, would he be dealing with such a crazed creature? But then, if he had married before thirty because of a curse, it wouldn't have been Selena.

And he very much wanted to marry her.