Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

“ I can hardly see out of this mask,” Iris complained as she stepped down from the carriage. “Are you sure I have to wear one? I doubt Lord Cain would recognize me. I was in Italy during most of his shenanigans.”

“Considering you look so much like Rosalie, yes, you have to wear it,” Violet said, rolling her eyes at Rosalie. “Now shhh. We’re here. We can’t say anything that gives away our real identities.”

The three sisters looked up at the door in front them which their carriage had just deposited them in front of. The sign above it was written in large red letters. Rilkin’s Casino.

“But don’t we want Cain to recognize us?” Iris whispered.

“Yes, but we want him to think we don’t want him to recognize us.”

Even to Rosalie, who knew the plan inside and out, Violet’s words were confusing, and she almost laughed.

But of course, she didn’t laugh. Tonight was dead serious.

They had been over the plan many times, and Rosalie knew Iris understood why they had to pretend to be in disguise. Iris was just nervous, so that’s why she was rambling, repeating things she already knew. And Rosalie could relate; as she stared up at the entrance to the gaming hell, she was also nervous. Never before had she taken a carriage to a dodgy part of London, found a gaming hell down a dark alley, disguised herself, and tried to entrap a dangerous criminal.

But that’s what they were doing tonight.

It was the whisper network that had led them to Rilkin’s casino. Women were good for sharing secrets, and it hadn’t taken much probing of the more gossipy ladies of the ton to discover that Lord Cain, when he wasn’t plotting to kidnap Rosalie or trading in opium, was often to be found at Rilkin’s Casino, one of London’s most notorious gaming hells. Once they’d formulated a plan around the casino, Violet had complained to a friend while walking the Serpentine that her sister Rosalie, recently living apart from her husband, was insisting that they visit Rilkin’s.

“She’s determined to do all the things she couldn’t do when she was living with her husband,” she had confided in a dramatic whisper. “But Iris is insisting we go with her since it isn’t safe on her own.”

She’d shaken her head, her friend’s eyes wide with shock and intrigue.

And of course, the rumor had spread like wildfire throughout the ladies of the ton.

“Aren’t you worried about your reputation?” Iris had asked Rosalie that evening as they prepared their outfits for the night at the gaming hell.

“Not really,” Rosalie had said dismissively as she adjusted her mask. “I care about seeing Cain behind bars.” She sent her sister a shrewd look. “Aren’t you worried about your reputation?” she’d shot back at her.

Iris had smiled. “Not really. I care about helping my family.”

And now, they were here, outside of the gaming hell, and Rosalie’s stomach was in knots. She couldn’t quite believe she was doing this.

Now, I really am a heroine in a novel , she thought wryly. The kind that sneaks into gaming hells, apparently!

Taking a deep breath, she gathered her courage and knocked on the door.

The sound was deep and resonant and seemed to echo from inside the hell. Then the door swung open, and they entered.

Inside was a tall, spindly man who looked to be well over a hundred. They were in a small antechamber where everything was red and covered in velvet. The man said nothing, merely gestured at their cloaks which they removed slowly and handed to him. He took them and disappeared through one of three doors. They waited, looking at one another with wide eyes. Rosalie’s heart was in her throat. Violet looked calm and serene, but Iris was fidgeting quite a bit.

The man returned and bowed to them then held out a hand toward the middle door. From behind it, they could hear laughter and the sounds of carousing. The sisters glanced at each other then Rosalie stepped forward and pushed open the door.

She was greeted by a roar of noise.

The gaming hell was huge. As she stepped inside, Rosalie had to crane her neck to see the ceiling which was painted with elaborate frescoes in gold leaf. Giant chandeliers of crystal hung from the ceiling, casting glittering, rainbow-colored light over the scene.

And what a scene it was. Dozens of gaming tables, all surrounded by gentlemen, ladies, and women who were decidedly not ladies, unmasked and in low-cut gowns. The men and women were drinking, mostly flutes of champagne but also whiskey and pints of cider while those seated at the tables were either playing cards or throwing dice. Everyone was making a lot of noise, and that, along with the dizzying crush of people, nearly overwhelmed all of Rosalie’s senses.

“This is madness,” Violet breathed as she glanced around.

Iris grimaced. “Complete madness.”

They stepped into the room, and the door shut behind them with an ominous bang. Now that she was inside the hell, Rosalie felt her excitement surge. A waiter passed with a tray, and she seized a flute of champagne from it.

Iris raised an eyebrow. “Should you really be drinking?”

“I’ve got to make it look real, don’t I?” she grinned. “Now, remember the plan: we spread out, but we always keep one another in sight. And when Lord Cain approaches me?—”

“We remember,” Iris assured her. “Now come on, let’s go.”

They set off into the room, Rosalie making sure that she could see her sisters at all times. She went first to a table where people were playing a version of what looked like loo although the rules seemed more complicated and the amount of money on the table made her feel faint. She stood near the table, watching and taking small sips of her champagne. A large, red-faced man seemed to be winning. She observed the game for a minute or two then she felt a prickling on the back of her skin, like someone was watching her.

Turning quickly, her eyes met those of a man standing on the opposite side of the hell. He was tall and wiry, with a sharp chin and mustache. He was too far away to see the color of his eyes, but there was an intensity to them that made her skin crawl.

They stared at each other for a moment then the man looked away. It wasn’t Lord Cain, but she wondered if, perhaps, this man worked for him. Then a waiter passed in front of her line of sight, and by the time he was gone, so was the man.

Shivering slightly, she turned back to the loo table then looked over to where Violet was sitting at a craps table about twenty feet away. Violet gave her a curious look—she must have seen Rosalie turn—but Rosalie shook her head. It wasn’t him .

“Well, hello there, pretty lady,” a man to Rosalie’s left said, and she turned to see that the red-faced man who had been winning earlier was now standing next to her. He was holding a glass of whiskey and swaying slightly, leering at her with bulging eyes and several rotten teeth. “I saw you watching me,” he crooned, leaning closer to her. His breath stank of alcohol, and she leaned instinctively away. “How abouts we have a private little chat? And then you can sit on my lap and tell me all your favorite things, and I’ll buy them all for you.” He jangled his purse, and Rosalie felt her stomach twist.

“No thank you,” she said as firmly as she could.

“Come on, little lassie,” he insisted, and he reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Let go of me,” Rosalie said, a little more loudly.

“What’s the problem?” the man leered. “Why else did a pretty little thing like you come to a place like this? I know you want it.”

“I said, let go of me!”

The man’s expression darkened, and his fingers tightened on her arm. “What did you say to me?” he hissed.

Rosalie tried to rip her arm away, but he held on. She looked around, to see if Violet or Iris were near, but she couldn’t see them, and when she looked back at the man, his face had turned purple.

He yanked her closer to him. “Come on and give me a kiss,” he snarled as his big mouth came toward her. She closed her eyes in horror.

And then suddenly, the man released her. At the same time, he let out a little oof of pain. Rosalie opened her eyes. The man was being held by his cravat, which was choking him, by a newcomer wearing a mask.

“The lady said no,” the man in the mask said in a cold whisper, and then he threw the man back against the loo table, causing it to shake and the players to look over in alarm and annoyance. The man slumped against the table then sank to the ground, looking up in fear at the man towering over him.

It was Lord Cain.

“Are you ready?” Grove asked Nathan and Lord Redfield as the carriage pulled to a halt.

Nathan gripped his pistol through his jacket, feeling it on the inside of his pocket. “I’m ready.”

Lord Redfield nodded as well, a determined look on his face. “Born ready.

Nathan glanced around at the rest of the men in the carriage, those Scotland Yard officers who were accompanying them to the hell. All were dressed, rather awkwardly, in evening attire as this would be an undercover mission. But all of them were armed and had a description of Lord Cain. Nathan trusted them.

“We’ll see if Cain is really foolish enough to show his face here,” Grove said, glancing out the window at the bright red words Rilkin’s Casino over the door.

“Probably not. But hopefully, we’ll catch Rilkin unaware.”

Grove nodded just as the footman pulled open the door. “All right,” he murmured, “let’s go.”

“Lord Cain!” Rosalie couldn’t keep the gasp from her lips.

Lord Cain turned from where her would-be assailer had fallen to the ground and let his eyes roam hungrily over Rosalie. She could feel them devouring her, and although it made her feel sick, she forced herself to smile tentatively.

“You rescued me,” she murmured, taking a step toward him.

He puffed out his chest. “Yes, I did,” he crowed. “From this vermin.” He looked down at the other man and spat at his feet. Around them, several people gasped and made sounds of disapproval.

“Thank you,” she said, dropping her eyelashes demurely. When she glanced back up, he was watching her thoughtfully.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said. “This is not a safe place for a young lady such as yourself.”

“I’m not so young,” she argued. “I’m a married woman. A duchess. I can go where I please.”

His eyes glittered for a moment. “Although I heard you and the Duke are taking some time apart.”

She bit her lip. “For now, yes. I want my freedom. He, for instance, would never let me come to this kind of place.”

Cain took a step closer to her. “Rilkin told me you were here,” he murmured. “He said not to trust you. But I believe it is fate that brought you here tonight as tomorrow, I was planning to leave the country.”

She stared up at him, her heart hammering. Tomorrow! We have only tonight to catch him!

“And what?” she asked scornfully, remembering that she couldn’t act too eager. “You thought I would come with you?”

His mouth twisted, and then he smiled. “I was hoping you would consider it.”

She looked at him levelly. “And why would you think that? Considering I have only ever refused you so far?”

“Because you know, deep in your heart, that I am the one for you.”

She looked around, pretending to seem concerned about their being overheard. “Let us go somewhere more private to discuss this,” she said. “Are there private rooms here?”

“There are,” he said, and he offered her his arm. “Follow me.”

After pretending to consider, Rosalie took his arm. Then, very covertly, she glanced to her right and left. Sure enough, both her sisters were there, trailing behind them as they set off across the casino floor.

“She called him Lord Cain!” Mr. Thistlewood blustered, gesticulating wildly with his hands. “I heard her loud and clear! He attacked me out of nowhere, and then she called him Lord Cain. You must have him arrested at once, Lieutenant-Commander Grove! He is a menace to Society!”

“You are the menace to Society, Mr. Thistlewood,” Grove said blandly while next to him, Nathan felt as if his heart might explode. They had arrived inside the casino to find that some sort of incident was taking place near the loo tables. A very drunk Mr. Thistlewood—a banker and general lout—was claiming to have been attacked by Lord Cain, who had then disappeared with a masked lady.

“And the lady?” Nathan demanded. “Who was she?”

“No idea,” Thistlewood said with a shrug. He reached for his glass of brandy and drank it down in one gulp. “A pretty little thing.”

“What did she look like?” It couldn’t be. She wouldn’t! Or would she…?

“How should I know?” Thistlewood thundered. “She was just some lady for hire. Blonde hair. Big green eyes, at least from what I could see through her mask. Oh, and skinny. Too skinny for my liking usually, but the eyes are what did it for me…”

“You, sir, are no gentleman,” Redfield said, his expression disgusted. “You should apologize to us right now, and the lady herself, for speaking that way about her.”

“She was no lady,” Thistlewood sneered, “so I’ll speak about her as I want. Anyway, that’s quite rich, coming from a man of your reputation.”

Grove had to grab the back of Redfield’s collar to keep him from leaping at Thistlewood, but Nathan had stopped listening. It’s her! She’s here! He had no idea why or how, but as he turned and scanned the casino, he felt as if every nerve in his body were on fire. He had to save her before it was too late.

Lord Cain opened the door for her, and Rosalie went inside. It was a small bedroom, richly furnished with fabrics of satin and velvet in reds and yellows. The door closed behind her, and Rosalie’s throat went dry. She turned slowly. Lord Cain was watching her. She drew herself up.

“Now, we can talk,” he said.

She nodded and took a step toward him. “I’m not agreeing to go away with you.”

He smiled slowly. “We’ll see about that.”

“Show me first,” she murmured. “Show me why I should go with you.”

His eyebrows went up. “What do you mean?”

She swallowed and forced herself to be brave. “Kiss me.”

For a moment, he looked as if he could hardly believe her. Then he crossed the room in two long strides and took her in his arms. She closed her eyes and let him draw her closer. Every single inch of her revolted against his touch, but she didn’t dare pull away. Instead, she brought her hands together at the back of his neck and slipped her fingers into the cuff at her wrist.

Lord Cain’s mouth was so close to hers that it was difficult for her not to pull back in disgust. His breath smelled rancid, and she felt for a moment like she might be sick. But she forced herself to focus. Just a second more…

Her fingers found the blade.

His lips lowered toward hers, and as revulsion spread through her, the blade came loose from her cuff. Triumph surged inside of her, and then she pressed the small blade into the side of Lord Cain’s neck.

Immediately, he froze. She pulled back so that her lips were as far from his as possible while keeping the knife at his throat, and she smiled up into his shocked and horrified face.

“What are you doing?” he whispered.

“What I should have done a long time ago.” She raised her voice. “Violet, Iris, you can come in now.”

The door banged open, and her sisters burst inside, both wielding their own small knives. Rosalie couldn’t help but laugh when she saw them. Her sisters looked so fierce and so wonderful. She had never seen a sight she loved more.

Iris turned and slammed the door shut then locked it.

“You’ve got him?” Violet asked as she began to pull the ribbons from her hair.

“I’ve got him,” Rosalie said, and she pressed the blade a little deeper into his neck. “And he’s not going anywhere.”

“They went in there,” the footman said, pointing nervously at the door at the far end of the corridor. “Lord Cain gave me a few pennies and told me not to disturb him.”

“Thank you,” Grove said. He had drawn his pistol as had Nathan although Nathan was too agitated to try and speak. “Now you best get out of here,” Grove told the footman.

The footman took one look at the guns and then scampered away.

“Stay here,” Grove said to the other officers, who were gathered behind them. “Make sure that Rilkin doesn’t try to ambush us.”

He then nodded to Nathan and Redfield, and the three of them began to creep along the corridor. As they approached the last door, they heard noises coming from inside of it: bangs, groans, and heavy breathing. Nathan’s heart was pounding in his throat. He thought he might be sick.

Grove and Redfield positioned themselves on either side of the door while Nathan got ready to knock it down. Grove looked at him and mouthed, “Three… Two… One!”

Nathan threw himself at the door with all his strength and in one go, it came clean off its hinges and fell forward, crashing to the ground.

Someone inside screamed, someone else yelled out a muffled cry, and Nathan leapt into the room, his gun raised high.

Then he lowered it again as inside, he was met with one of the strangest sights he’d ever seen.

Lord Cain was lying in a fetal position on the ground below a bed, tied from hands to feet with hair ribbons and gagged with a pair of stockings. Meanwhile, Iris and Violet stood on either side of him, facing the door, knives pointing straight at Nathan’s heart while Rosalie sat on the bed, one foot on the ground while the other rested on Lord Cain’s neck.

“Good evening, Nathan,” Rosalie said coolly as Nathan lowered his gun and gaped at her. “I believe you have been looking for this man?”