Chapter Nineteen

"Perhaps he is cursed after all."

The duke glanced at her. "I beg your pardon?"

Selena shook her head, indicating she'd spoken to herself, and peered from the top of her horse at the warehouse she recognized all too well. She had decided to change into her Turkish trousers, which made riding a horse astride more comfortable than riding sidesaddle.

She scowled at the building.

How unoriginal.Just like their crest.

A twinge of worry—small and prickling—nudged at her when she considered the possibility of Warrick having been kidnapped because of her.

By his supposed lover.

Her annoyance flared again, obliterating any concern that had bubbled to the surface. How could he get caught? He had some brain to go with all his brawn! How did this happen to an earl of all people? Titles truly didn't mean all that much, did they? The meaning attached was the meaning one gave.

"I still don't understand why we did not show up for the meeting. They have Warrick." More to point, that woman had Warrick. Not that it bothered her. She didn't believe they were actually lovers. He loved her. He could only be her lover.

And she didn't want anyone other than that brawny man. She had decided.

Selena threw her head back with a groan. She was lying to herself. It did bother her.

It bothered her a lot.

If fact, it bothered her more than anything else had ever bothered her before. Two days of suppressed bother was threatening to erupt!

"Patience, Lady Selena," Mortimer answered. "Also, word to the wise, you shouldn't drink straight from the bottle. Brandy tastes better in a glass."

"I'll keep that in mind." She pointed to the building. "And they have already arrived. How can you be patient? Just how patient do you want me to be?"

"You are tipsy, so remain calm. Just a little bit more patience."

"Duke."

"Yes?" Amusement.

"I'm not anything of the sort. And also, I don't know if you have learned this in all your years of life, but I shall tell you now, for the sake of your happy future, never tell a woman to remain calm. It has the opposite effect."

"I see. Then, by all means, lose your composure as you deem fit."

"Are you mocking me?"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Selena snorted. Silence fell between them, and she didn't think he would say anything more, but he suddenly noted, "Your earl isn't here."

Selena turned to him. "Warrick's not here?"

"The women in cloaks arrived, which means they weren't here from the start."

"Warrick is not here," she repeated flatly.

He lifted a brow, then shook his head. "You understand, do you not?"

Understand? No, she didn't understand anything more! How had her ability to deduce the obvious hit such an all-time low? Could she be tipsy? She shook her head twice, collecting all her thoughts, her mind racing over the possibilities of what him not being here might mean. "Then we are waiting for them to leave," she guessed. "You want us to follow them back to their true lair."

"Correct."

"If they are so dangerous, shouldn't we inform the law?"

"I am the law."

She opened her lips, then shut them again. The loftiness of this man took arrogance to a whole other level.

Very well, Duke. You are the law.But it seemed the duke's sleuthing abilities were as dismal as hers. Otherwise, "How have you not been able to find this club before?"

"They've never come out of the shadows so boldly before. And I'm mostly interested in the founder. The Madam they call her. Now," sharp eyes locked with hers, "all thanks to you, to you heiresses, I am closer to unmasking her."

"You should thank Warrick and his gang, too, I suppose, but I shall accept the thanks. I am happy to oblige, though I am curious. You have been searching for the betting book."

"I have."

"Yet you have not asked me for it. Why not?"

"Would you hand it over to me?"

The horse shifted beneath her. "Knowing what I know now, perhaps."

He nodded. "I've decided for the time being, the book is better off with the heiresses."

Oh? "Why on earth would you decide that?"

"Call it a hunch." His lips quirked upward, only a bit, but a welcome change from his usually cold face. "When I require the book, I shall come retrieve it."

"I love your arrogance."

"I don't call faith in my abilities arrogance, my lady."

"Is asking for something considered an ability?"

"For a man, of course."

Selena shook her head, looking off into the distance. This part of town was quiet, but not without peddlers roaming about. Curious glances were sent their way, but everyone gave them a wide berth. Selena glanced at the duke from the corner of her eye.

He told her to stay calm, but with each second slipping by them, her impatience taunted her and made her question all the decisions she had made of late. All the ones she hadn't made. All the ones she'd avoided.

This was what happened when you left important matters up to fate and timing. Had she missed her time?

"They're leaving," the duke said in a low voice.

Selena perked up, burrowing deeper into the hood of her cloak. "After only after ten minutes? Is that not a bit premature? What if I am just late?"

"Four went in; only three walked out. They must have left someone behind on the chance you'll still appear."

Selena nodded, and when the cloaked figures entered a carriage and set off, she and the duke nodded at each other and nudged their horses to follow in their wake. A red cloaked figure had been amongst them. They followed the carriage to the fringes of Covent Garden where it finally drew to a halt, and Selena watched as the three women excited the carriage and entered an establishment across the street.

The Rose.

"Of course it's named The Rose," she muttered. The unoriginality continued.

"A brothel." Mortimer's curled his lips. "This is their lair?"

"An alehouse, an abandoned warehouse, and now a brothel. The women of this club sure do make their rounds."

"I presume the brothel is used as a front, just like the tavern."

"Still, ladies who use a brothel as a lair?" Selena was supremely disappointed in this club. "Where is their class?"

"This isn't about class. It's about money." He glanced at her. "You should remain outside."

"Not a chance, Duke." Warrick was in there. She wasn't about to wait outside and leave his rescue up to fate.

"This is no place for a lady."

"Now is not the time to develop scruples." She dismounted her horse. "You already brought me along. In any event, I've never been in a brothel before. I am quite curious." Would it be tasteful or seedy? Debauched or opulent? Would her earl be in one of the rooms? Would there be women? She hadn't forgotten about all the tales she overheard throughout the years.

But that wasn't what was important here. She'd followed the duke's instruction and been patient about waiting outside the warehouse and following the women here. But Warrick and her brother had been missing for two days. Two days that she'd been none the wiser about their fate! She had been patient long enough.

"Fine, but please take care of your safety."

"Oh, you do not have to worry about me, Duke."

She could hold her own.

*

Warrick hadn't lostan arm.

Neither had he escaped this godforsaken place. But that didn't stop him from continuing to try. His wrists burned, but just a little more loosening and he would be able to free his hands. They had been stuck in this room for hours on end. His arms hurt. His legs hurt. And his arse had finally lost all feeling. And damn it, worry clamped his gut tightly.

"She must have a plan..." Not knowing Selena's plan, her whereabouts, her doings, however, drove him damn near insane. This was the first time in weeks he hadn't received any report on her. The first time he had felt truly separated from her. Even when she'd rejected him over and over, he hadn't felt as distant as he did sitting here tied to a chair.

"Who?" Saville asked. "My sister?"

"Yes. There must be a reason she didn't go to that meeting."

"She will show up for me," Saville said, a hint of pride lacing his voice.

"You sound supremely optimistic, yet I'm not so sure. Selena is no simpleminded woman. She also doesn't think like your average lady." She didn't accept things for what they were. She loved to challenge. She loved to defy.

"She will probably convene all the heiresses to deal with this club and cause another scandal," Saville remarked.

Maybe. "But this is no simple club, either."

Saville cracked a mocking smile. "You only realized this now?"

"No, I've thought so for a while," Warrick admitted. "Ever since I found Selena in a tavern on the docks. One they presumably own."

"Tavern?" Saville shot a glare his way. "My sister? When the hell was this?"

"Does it matter at this point?" It was all in the past.

"I am throttling you both when we settle this madness. A tavern? What the devil was she thinking?" Dark eyes narrowed on him. "Was Lady Theodosia there, too?"

"Wouldn't you know if she had been?"

"Not necessarily. The chit commissioned a girl with similar features to lead me around the nose for an entire day. Who knows how many times she made a fool of me."

"And you fell for that?" He wondered if he had fallen for that, too. No. He didn't believe he would ever mistake Selena for anyone else.

"They looked alike," Saville defended.

"Very well, they looked alike."

Saville's stomach gave a loud growl. He let out a deep sigh. "Hungry."

"Why didn't you eat the sandwiches they brought earlier?" Warrick sent a sidelong glance his friend's way.

"Why didn't you?" Saville shot back. "Have a stranger feed me? No thank you."

Yes, Lady Ridgeland had gone out of her way to make a mockery of them, demanding they open their mouths and say "ah." Feed them? Who did she imagine they were? He'd rather starve to death than take a morsel of food from her hand.

The door opened and soft laughter followed.

As expected, the moment you talk of the devil it appears.

"Do you have a damn ear to the door, madam?" Saville echoed his sentiments.

She sauntered over to him with a smile. "You must be starving, dear. Are you sure you don't want a bite to eat?"

"Lost my appetite the moment you revealed your face."

Her smile slipped. "What a rude thing to say to a lady."

"A lady?" Saville snorted. "A title that does not suit the likes of you, madam."

"Perhaps I shall send you to another room, earl. Your voice is quite unpleasant to the ears."

Warrick shot a warning glance at his friend. Keep your mouth shut. He did not want to be alone with this unhinged woman in a chamber. In a brothel, no less.

Saville averted his gaze with a scowl.

Warrick drew a deep breath. "You never struck me as a fool, Lady Ridgeland. But this—are you sure you are ready for the consequences?"

"Of course, dear." He flinched at Lady Ridgeland's purring tone.

"Stop calling me that."

"But I do so enjoy your death stares whenever I do. It makes me want to punish you even more than a pinch on the arse here, a candelabra there."

His veins turned to ice. "You were behind those incidents?"

"You rejected me so many times; I had to find a way to vent my frustration."

Heat rushed to his chest as shock sparked through his body, but only momentarily. In its wake, relief remained. He'd been punished. By her. A living, breathing woman. Not random acts brought on by any curse. He didn't have to speculate anymore. However, that still didn't excuse her damn actions. "You are a bloody nuisance to society, madam."

"Oh, don't be like that, it was nothing serious."

"Why target me, then?" Warrick demanded. "There are many men who would be happy to give you what you ask. Why did you latch onto me?"

"Because unlike those men, you didn't fall for my abundant charms, and I do so enjoy a challenge." She trailed a finger over his exposed skin. "And you do have a body that is to my taste."

If Warrick had any hair left at all after this, he would bloody rejoice. "Do not touch me." He felt damn violated.

"Are you a lightskirt, madam?" Saville asked from the side.

Her head snapped to the right. "What did you just call me?"

Saville shrugged. "I didn't call you anything. I merely asked if you are a doxy. I mean, it's not that farfetched a question. You brought us to a brothel, and now you are fondling a man against his will."

"Men have done far worse to women over the ages."

"Not all men, and that doesn't excuse your behavior. You do realize when we will leave this place, there will be consequences for your deeds."

"You underestimate us, my lord." Her hand paused. "It shall be your word against all the people who will vouch for my whereabouts. You are merely two men who went on a two-day run of debauchery."

The chafing of his wrists and ankles would prove otherwise, Warrick thought darkly, but said, "So you have thought of everything then."

She smiled at him. "You shall find I am a very thorough woman."

And you will find, madam, that I am a very unforgiving man.

"Shall I place a kiss on this body of yours? Show you what you have been missing?"

"Don't you dare," Warrick growled, just as a knock sounded on the door. He'd never been so relieved by such a timely interruption.

"Enter." Lady Ridgeland straightened, but her paws didn't leave his body, only shifted to his shoulder. He would need a bath—two, no, three baths—to wash away her touch.

A woman entered.

"I thought Turkish trousers were the latest craze," Saville muttered. "Seems to be cloaks with big, awful hoods."

"What is it?" Lady Ridgeland asked. "Do you have news of that wretched girl?"

"That wretched girl," the woman pulled back the cloak from her face, "brings news of herself in person."

The breath left Warrick's lungs.

"Selena?" Saville found his voice before Warrick could utter even one. She was such a beautiful sight. "How did you find us? No, what the hell are you doing in a brothel?"

Her eyes swept over the both of them, falling on his exposed chest and then flicking to the hand of Lady Ridgeland resting on his shoulder before locking with his eyes.

Confound it.

What was with this timing?

Her gaze turned to Saville. "I could ask the same of you, brother. Is this a kidnapping or a new rage in roleplay?"

"What the devil do you know of roleplay?" Saville asked, yet it came out as more of a mutter than a demand.

"I'm impressed, Lady Selena," Lady Ridgeland said. "You didn't respond to our missives so that you might follow us back here."

"Oh, I cannot claim all the credit. I had help. A voice of patience. A voice of calm. A voice of a man even more determined to find you than I was."

An unfamiliar feeling spread within Warrick's chest.

A man. What man?

Lady Ridgeland titled her head to this side in thought. "There are many men who court my favor."

"Then why go to such lengths? You know kidnapping is a crime. One you shall pay for dearly."

"We shall see about that."

What damn man?