Chapter Nine

The first time Selena ever found herself in a fix—stuck in a tree after picking apples in the countryside—she had been scolded for several hours on end by her brother. The two of them may not always have seen eye to eye, but her brother had always been there to get her out of scrapes. He had always been there for her, period. Always him. Their mother had decided to embark on a new life, but Selena didn't blame her for that. She'd had Saville and that was enough.

Until the list of heiresses that he and his friends had created was exposed. For once, he had been the one who had caused the trouble. However, instead of helping her as he had done in the past, he had brought in Warrick.

Recalling those moments of his past protection, Selena's current anger and sense of betrayal was partly over the list, but mostly over her brother's abandonment. She had felt deserted by the very man who ought to have shielded her.

Warrick had been right about conflicting feelings.

So many conflicting feelings.

Because she had also experienced a sense of relief since she hadn't entirely wanted him to protect her. She wanted to stand on her own. But then he'd gone and enlisted a proxy, confusing the matter further still.

Her feelings were deeply in conflict this very moment, though in this case they were about Warrick, hoping he would walk through the door, and at the same time wishing he would not.

He didn't.

And again, that feeling of inner turmoil surfaced.

Selena straightened when the barman approached with another two beers and set them on table.

"We didn't order these," Selena said, glancing at the big man with frank suspicion.

"Nevertheless, they're for you." He reached for their empty glasses. Only then did she notice the scars that crisscrossed his hands. "Don't go anywhere. Wait."

Selena watched his back as he strode off. Just what situation had they gotten themselves into? She turned her wide eyes to Leonora.

"Don't go anywhere? Wait?" Leonora's face mirrored hers. "Should we make a run for it? I can run pretty fast, but his legs are longer."

Selena agreed. "I'm not sure how far we would get."

"Aren't you scared?" Leonora asked in a hushed voice.

"A bit," Selena admitted truthfully. "But I'm also curious."

Leonora's eyes widened in disbelief. "About what?"

"Why we should wait."

"Perhaps he caught onto us. I mean, we did ask him about charities, and we weren't exactly inconspicuous when inspecting our glasses."

"Speaking of which..." Selena carefully lifted her beer to peer at the bottom. No emblem. Highly suspicious. "You might be right."

"This is not good, Selena. What are we going to do now?"

"Don't fret," Selena reassured even while her own heart thundered. Could it be a mere coincidence? She didn't believe so. Odds were that they were finally going to meet whoever was in charge of this club. This was what she had wanted. Also, "We still have our driver and footmen outside. We shall be fine."

But for the first time since she started her search, Selena experienced a sense of crisis. These women, she knew nothing about them, nor did she know anything about the club. Though after today, it was clear that it was no ordinary club of women gathering and discussing the demise of the world hierarchy. And this time, neither her brother nor Warrick was here to save and protect her. Plus, she had dragged Leonora along.

Selena calmly took a sip of her beer. In a time of panic, never let the panic show. She'd learned that in all her years testing the boundaries of her brother's temper. "I wonder if we know anyone in the club."

"I suppose we shall be surprised by the reveal."

"Would you join if they invited you?" Selena asked.

"That shall depend on what happens here today." Leonora shifted in her seat, reaching for beer as well. "What about you? Will you join without evaluating the benefits?"

"Honestly, I never thought about benefits. Only finding the club and joining."

"But you must have your reasons."

She did. Although they were growing rather hazy of late. "They seem to have lost some of their valor."

"A situation like this will do that to even the best of motivations."

Selena chuckled. Had she been too caught up in her reasons that she ignored a bright red flag? She took another small sip. "The beer is good though."

Her friend nodded. "It's better than mulled wine."

Selena noticed a man enter from a backroom and whisper into the barman's ear. A moment later, the scarred man approached them again. "Come with me."

Selena and Leonora shared a look before rising.

Well, I suppose the time has come.

"What if we don't want to?"

The man just stared her, his penetrating gaze her answer.

A girl had to try.

The door of the alehouse slammed open, drawing her attention, and two looming figures stepped over the threshold leisurely, sharp eyes taking in everything of their environment. One of those figures' gaze fell on Selena and didn't leave.

"Warrick?" Shock, delight, confusion all wrapped up in that one word. She didn't recognize the other man, who wandered off to inspect the place.

He hadn't forsaken her yet.

"The moment I take my eyes off you, you run amok," Warrick said, striding over.

She had never appreciated more the sight of...

A gasp flew past her lips as she took in the cut on his lower lip, then the bruise on his cheek. "What happened to your face?"

"I'll tell you later. First, I want to know what you are doing at a bloody tavern."

"A lead brought us here."

He nodded. "The rose and the sword."

Selena's brows furrowed. He'd picked up on it quicker than they had. "In any case, the barman," Selena pointed at the empty space beside her, and then blinked. "Where has he gone?"

Leonora shrugged her shoulders.

Warrick glanced around the room. "The big one? He left when we entered. Why, what about him?"

"He told us to follow him."

Warrick's face turned grim. "And the two of you were just going to blindly do as he said?"

"We couldn't fight him off, now, could we? I believe he was going to lead us to the head of the club, or at very least a representative."

His gaze turned more vigilant as his eyes darted from the backdoor to her. "Damn it, you are as reckless ever."

"We must find him," Selena pressed. "He could be the final piece of the puzzle to finding these women."

"It's too late."

"Why?" Selena asked. "He couldn't have gone far."

"I arrived with a Bow Street Runner." He pointed to the man he'd arrived with, currently inspected the overhead sword. "Do you imagine they will risk being exposed now? A damn alehouse of all places..."

He was right. Anyone who valued their secrecy would be long gone by now. However, "Why are you here with a Bow Street Runner?"

"It's a long story."

"Does it have to do with why your face is beaten to a pulp?"

He sighed, glancing to Leonora and back. "I suppose I ought to warn you, your brother knows we kissed."

"What? How?"

He looked away. "You should ask him about his intuition and sharp eye. But I didn't deny it when he accused me."

Selena bristled. "Are you mad? Why wouldn't you deny it? Who admits to such things?" She could not believe this.

"Unfortunately, your brother knows my tells." His eyes, filled with some unreadable emotion, lifted to hers. "He demanded we marry."

Selena couldn't contain the shock jolted through her body. Marry? "That is why you should have denied it even if he didn't believe you!"

"Damn it. I refused, all right?"

"You refused?"

Confusion marred his brow. "Shouldn't I have?"

"Of course you should have!" She pinched the bridge of her nose, drawing in a deep breath. "It's just my brother..."

"Was furious, yes." He stepped closer and said in a lowered voice, "I can handle Saville. No need to worry that you will be leg shackled to me."

"That's not what I am worried about!"

"It's . . . not?"

Selena froze. It's not? Wait. Did that sound like she wouldn't mind if he hadn't refused? She shook her head. "I mean, that is exactly what I am worried about!"

A snort. "Like I said, there's no need to worry."

Selena bit down on her lip. "Whether you can handle him or not, Saville won't just leave it at that. What aren't you telling me?" She reached out to his bruised face, her hand hovering over the discoloring skin before she retracted her arm. "Does it hurt?"

"No," he said softly.

"Liar." Her brother had a nasty temper. "Out with it. What aren't you telling me?" she asked again in a sterner voice.

His gaze shifted to the runner. Selena followed his gaze, not surprised to find the man standing guard at the door and her friend laughing at something he'd said. She hadn't even noticed when Leonora had wandered off. Warrick glanced back at her, lowering his voice to whisper, "He challenged me to a duel at dawn."

"That is madness," Selena hissed back. "I won't stand for a duel." What if Warrick got hurt? Not that her brother was a crack shot, but the danger of a duel was all too real regardless. She couldn't allow this to happen. Wouldn't allow it.

"I can handle your brother," he reassured.

"So you've said, but Saville is willing to openly point a pistol at you and fire, he's that stubborn."

Warrick suddenly smiled, catching Selena off guard. "A trait that runs in your family."

"You should worry more about what runs in yours."

He chuckled.

"Honestly, have you forgotten you are cursed? Bad luck follows you around like a lost puppy you tossed a scrap of meat to, or did you forget?"

"I understand your concern, but I promise you, I can handle your brother."

"Everything good here?" the Runner asked as he and Leonora strode up to them.

"All good." Warrick nodded at the man. "We're leaving."

Selena looked at Leonora, whose once worried features were vibrant again with a knowing smile. How was it that every time she conversed with Warrick she forgot about everyone else? Her face flushed.

"What's wrong?" Warrick asked.

She turned back to him. "What do you mean?"

The back of his hand pressed against her cheek. "You're suddenly red." His gaze flicked to the table. "How much beer did you drink?"

Leonora laughed. "Oh, it not the beer."

Selena glared at her friend. "It's just the heat."

"Yes," Leonora agreed, her eyes sparkling. "The heat."

She patted her cheeks. "And we had two beers each."

"Quite right." Leonora's grin inched upward. "The beers also helped with the heat, I think."

"Let's go," Selena said, back rigid. Leonora, you just wait. She stole a glance at Warrick, her brow furrowing as they fell on those wounds again. He was here. He had come for her.

Brother . . . you just wait as well.

*

Dawn, the next day

Warrick once thoughtthat if a man had good friends, even if life turned to utter hell, it would still feel like a supreme paradise. He wasn't so sure about that anymore.

"Is this what years of friendship has boiled down to?" his second, the Earl of Deerhurst, nagged from the chair beside the desk in his study. "A duel?"

Warrick reached for the wooden case that held his pistols. "He is the one who issued the challenge. I'm honor bound to accept the challenge."

"That's horse shit and you know it."

Warrick ignored Deerhurst's remark and opened the case, inspecting the pistols. Of course he didn't want to duel with one of his friends, but Saville would never let him off. If this was the only way to calm his friend's temper, so be it.

"So not only are you two fighting, but you have also dragged the rest of us into this mess as well."

"What the devil am I supposed to do? Saville needs an outlet for his rage. I am it."

"It's easy," Deerhurst said. "Ask for Selena's hand."

Warrick's brows sprung to his hairline. "Why does everyone believe that is the answer? Pressuring two unwilling people together?"

"This isn't about applying pressure. She still has the right to refuse. But you'd have at least offered. Let Saville deal with his sister's choice."

"What if Saville threatens her into accepting? What then?" Then there would be no way he could back out in any way or form.

"You believe that chit can truly be pressured into anything?"

No... "Nevertheless, I'm not giving that madman such an opening. He'll ruin their relationship."

"He is right to be angry," Deerhurst pointed out. "What the devil possessed you to kiss his sister?"

"I am aware," Warrick bit out. "But it's not like I committed a grave sin."

"You are, however, still meeting him for a duel."

"He issued the challenge. He must retract it." He was going to do exactly what Saville was doing—stubbornly point a pistol at one of his closest friends—in the hope that friend wouldn't pull the trigger.

It wasn't that Warrick couldn't understand his friend's anger. If he had a sister, he would do no differently. Well, the brawl in his chamber was too much, but he'd probably also call for pistols at dawn if a man who confessed to kissing his sister refused to take responsibility. But this wasn't about responsibility.

This was about Selena.

About what she wanted.

He hadn't wanted her to know about the duel with her brother. There was no hiding it, however. Saville would have confined her by now—lock and key—and with that big mouth of his, he would have bellowed all his misgivings, cursed Warrick's ancestors, and declared his stance.

"Forgive me for asking, but do you have feelings for Selena?"

Feelings for Selena? Selena Savage?

"You did kiss her." Deerhurst crossed one leg over the other. "There must be some sort of attraction."

"When has attraction been a reason enough to marry?" Men get lost over attraction, but they didn't marry because of it.

"Some men would argue it's better than marrying with no attraction at all."

"It doesn't matter. It was a mere impulse on my part."

Deerhurst's arched brow accused him of lies. "Two times the impulse?"

More than that, an impulse that hadn't waned. "Is that so hard to believe? How many times did you kiss your wife before you offered marriage?"

Deerhurst coughed into his hand. "This is not about me. And I did marry her in the end."

"Good for you."

"Does Selena not return the sentiment then?"

He didn't know what she returned or didn't return, but she had been bothered, just like him. "I haven't asked her."

"Then answer me this, do you still feel guilty because of the list?"

Warrick ignored him, but his heart felt the jab.

"It's fine to feel guilty. It's not fine to let it ruin your life."

Warrick placed the pistol back into the case. "It's not ruining my life."

"So you do still feel guilt."

"Wouldn't you?" he countered.

"I feel the things I need to feel and then I let them go, especially if what I feel does not serve me or my family. There is no point in losing hair over something that has passed."

Warrick lifted a warning gaze to his friend. "Leave my damn hair out of this."

"Fine. There is no point in losing sleep over past matters," Deerhurst amended with a smile.

"I sleep like a log. Dead to the world."

"Very well, then why does it look like you've lost weight—"

"I have not lost one ounce," Warrick growled.

Deerhurst chuckled. "What about your mind? Not lost that?"

"Fully intact."

"Then it must be your heart."

Dear God in Heaven. "The organ in my chest is beating just fine." Warrick set the pistol case down. "What are you getting at, Deerhurst? That I've lost my heart?"

"Haven't you?"

"It's still very much in my possession."

"Then why the hell did you admit to the kiss? You could have taken the truth to your grave. Both your graves."

He had been questioning this as well. Maybe he'd admitted it so that Saville could keep them apart, keep them from crossing any more lines. Or maybe he admitted it in hopes he would force them together.

He couldn't tell which.

He didn't care to know either.

"Without a confession, speculation remains speculation," Deerhurst went on. "He would have doubted his own imagination after enough time had passed. Perhaps a part of you wanted him to back you into a corner."

"Perhaps I did." Warrick sighed, letting his head fall back, shutting his eyes briefly before turning back to Deerhurst. "Perhaps I just wanted Saville to beat me to a pulp and come to his senses on trusting a friend to play guardian over his sister."

"If that is the case, you certainly succeeded."

Truthfully, he himself couldn't get as far as believing his reasoning. But after he found Selena at that alehouse, embroiled in this club affair, agreeing to follow questionable a barman to an unknown location, he didn't regret his choice in admitting to the kiss if it led to her protection.

Selena needed to be locked down. Not in the way one would cage an exotic creature, but more to save it from falling into the hands of the people who would. Maybe she wouldn't see the difference, but he certainly could.

Christ, just thinking what could have happened to her set his heart in a wild frenzy.

The undeniable truth of the matter was Saville had the right to keep a tighter leash on his sister. So he would duel with his best friend. And then perhaps things would return to the way they were before.

Another lie. Nothing would return to the way it was before.

Warrick rose to his feet. "Let's not tarry. I don't want forfeit on account of being late."

Deerhurst nodded. "My carriage is outside, ready."

Warrick followed Deerhurst out the door and straight into his ride to whatever fate awaited him and his friendship with Saville. It wasn't until the carriage lurched forward that the measure of calm he'd held onto started to crack.

I am doing this for her.

For her.

Selena Savage.

A woman who dared to challenge them all.

And it was all so she could search out, and potentially find, what she had lost amidst the aftermath of his mistake. Deerhurst hadn't been wrong. Guilt still stabbed at him. But not as much anymore. And by his actions today, he hoped all would be forgiven and he could finally move on from this matter.

Of course, he had no intention of shooting Saville. Saville, no doubt, had every intention of putting a hole in his heart. If he survived, was it too much to ask—too selfish to hope—that he might receive a kind thought, perhaps even a bit of sympathy, from Selena?

Warrick's lips lifted.

Lord, oh, Lord, this truly was the most laughable situation he had ever found himself in. That damn curse. Even if he did aim his pistol at Saville—a true aim—he would probably still miss his target. With his luck, he might very well die today.

At least he would die with an acceptable head of hair still intact.

Deerhurst eyed him. "Nervous?"

"No." Warrick glanced at his pocket watch. "We should be arriving shortly."

Deerhurst peered through the curtains, pausing before a furrow formed between his brows. "This doesn't seem right. We are nowhere near the designated point."

All the blood left Warrick's limbs. He ripped open the curtain. "Where the hell are we going then?"

"I'm not sure." Deerhurst rapped on the roof. "Stop the carriage."

There was no response and no sign of the carriage slowing.

Warrick scowled. "What the hell is the meaning of this?" He called out, "Driver! Stop the carriage or these pistols will be used on you."

No response.

Warrick turned his gaze to his friend, eye blazing. "Is this your doing? A ploy for us not to duel?"

Deerhurst lifted his hands in surrender. "I give you my word, I had no hand in this."

"Avondale?"

"He is working on calming Saville down."

"If not you the two of you, then who—"

Dear Christ.

There is only one other person who knew about the duel and would be mad enough to interfere.

"Selena."

That damn Savage had done it again!