Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“ Y ou nearly killed him!” Duncan growled, latching onto Morgan’s sweaty biceps.

Morgan pushed Duncan off him, a warning growl erupting from his chest.

“I have heeded all of your suggestions regarding my fighting, brother, but tonight I refuse,” he snarled back.

“Tonight? Just tonight? Morgan, Morgan listen to me, you have left a trail of bloody, beaten bodies behind you since last week. If you do not get a hold of yourself you will murder someone, and I know you do not want that!”

“Do not be so sure, brother,” Morgan huffed, his mood growing even darker as he imagined Luke’s face.

He knew it was not Luke that he was picturing when he fought with his opponents in the ring; he was fighting with himself. Anger and disappointment had stopped him from attending Helena’s small party before she left to take a holiday with Teresa and her brother to Luke’s estate in Ashfield, but it was his monumental self-loathing that had fueled his need to bloody faces.

It had begun the morning after her party. As he woke up alone in his bed, staring at the ceiling with dead eyes, he realized that, in trying to avoid the pain of seeing her, he had lost out on other, more precious moments.

He had missed the chance to promise her that he would always be there for her whenever she needed him, even if it was in only a brotherly capacity. The chance to wish her a happy marriage, even though they both knew otherwise. He had missed the opportunity to touch his lips to her skin and taste her one more time.

He knew Helena would be back to London for her wedding next month, but he already decided that he could not attend. This had been his last chance. At everything. And he had missed it.

Morgan’s ability to reach for humor had completely abandoned him thereafter. His foul temper had scared the servants, caused meetings to be cancelled, and infused his brothers with worry. Morgan had successfully avoided contact with Ambrose. Their relationship had become rocky after he had decided to show Ambrose the letter from Whittler the day after Helena left for Ashfield.

Ambrose had undergone an apoplectic fit when Morgan revealed his suspicions that Luke was a nefarious character. He had yelled at Morgan in Luke’s defense, insisting that the letter could have belonged to the house’s previous owner, and that their fathers’ murder case had been closed. His response was like a slap to Morgan’s face, and after drinking the numbness away, he had started to fight on a nightly basis. After that incident, Ambrose had stopped contacting him.

Ezra, however, was like a demonic weasel thereafter, appearing out of nowhere in his usual all-black attire, and greeting him with a disappointing frown. When Morgan walked up to him, ready to curse him out of the door, Ezra raised his brow, and in his usual lifeless tone, simply asked, “you can gamble in my hell, but I cannot gamble in yours?”

Morgan had frozen and given Ezra a distrustful stare.

“You seriously think I care what you do in your free time?” Ezra sighed. “I heard about a good fighter. Came to place my bets. Finding out that I am betting on you does not concern me provided that you keep winning.”

Morgan held out his forearm to Ezra and his brother pressed his own against it. Without another word, Morgan had returned to the fight, and they had not spoken since.

Thereafter, Ezra attended the fights on a nightly basis, bringing along other men from their side of town, and always a few more than the night before. Ezra was taking their bets on Morgan’s fights and was making many of them rich men. Tonight though, the crowd was equally half peasant, half gentry but all of them were betting on him. At the rate Morgan was going, he was going to make them all rich men.

“You ready, mate?” the announcer shouted into the back room.

“Morgan,” Duncan warned.

“Ready, mate,” Morgan yelled back, shaking his head slightly as he began walking backward towards the ring.

“Either back me up or get out, Duncan,” Morgan commanded before he got to the curtain, “but tonight I am not done until I say I am done.”

A clanging noise filled Morgan’s ears as he stepped into the ring. It shrieked alongside the roar of the crowd so viciously that he was unable to hear the name of his opponent. Not that it mattered. He zeroed in on the man that shared Luke’s features and let himself fill with rage. As the bell rang for the fight to begin, the clanging in Morgan’s ears ceased. In fact, all sound stopped and time slowed down as he rained blow after blow on his opponent.

He did not have to duck. He did not have to dive. His first attack was lethal and far too fast for his opponent. Metal cuffs were snapped onto his wrists and he was pulled off the broken man. Morgan roared as he slid in the large pool of blood he had created, and violently kicked the lifeless body.

“Back off, boy, you’re done!” growled the mountainous man that held Morgan’s left cuff.

“Get these off me,” he snarled, fighting the two mammoths that were carrying him away from the ring.

“Aye, we will, as soon as ye get yer arse together. Now calm yer sack or we’ll be forced to knock ye out in these chains.”

“Ye’re not under arrest lad, ye just need tae calm down,” added the large man to his right.

Morgan forced himself to take a steadying breath and willed his muscles to relax as he was seated in a chair. He shook his head and raised his hands in surrender. Inside him anger still raged so much so that his hands shook, but he forced an easy, innocent smile to distract them.

“I am calm, see?” he asked.

The two large men looked at one another, seemingly having a silent conversation. Now that Morgan could get a better look at them, he realized they were probably brothers.

“Take ‘em off, Norm,” the larger one sighed.

“Right, Norb,” Norm replied obediently, and removed the metal cuffs from Morgan’s wrists.

“Thanks so much,” Morgan said chipperly, rubbing his wrists. “Now, let us get back to the fights, yes? Who is next?”

“You don’t understand, boss,” the man called Norb said, shaking his head.

“Ye’re done fer the whole night. Maybe even the week.” Norm added, coiling up the chains.

The thin veil of feigned cheer that Morgan had wrapped over his anger suddenly loosened and he felt his body tense again.

“The hell I am,” he answered gruffly. “I want back out there!”

“And I want to be a lord, Clawhammer, but I ain’t to be one,” Norb replied, his protruding brow furrowing. He stepped in front of Morgan, blocking his path.

“You ain’t goin’ back out there, boss, and that’s that. What the owner says goes. You want to stay and watch, that’s yer business, but ye ain’t gettin’ back in that ring.”

“I shall buy you a beer, old chap,” Ezra offered, his usual nonchalant tone breaking the tension in the air. “Come along. You have won us enough money. Time to celebrate.”

For a moment Morgan did not move, his gaze locked with Norb’s. He briefly thought about fighting the man, but a small sliver of sanity and self-preservation formed in his mind, and he finally took a step back.

“Let us drink, then,” Morgan said gruffly, going to Ezra’s side. Duncan had also appeared, but he and Morgan refused to look at one another.

Begrudgingly accepting that his fights were done for the time being, Morgan dressed and joined Ezra at his table. Their pints were filled and he drank the brew down completely in just a few, deep chugs.

“Another,” he rasped, slamming down the empty tin mug.

“Indeed,” Ezra muttered, refilling both their cups.

He clipped his mug against Morgan’s without the effort of a verbal toast, and they both tilted their mugs back once more. Ezra was filling their cups for a third time when Morgan finally managed to look up at his surroundings. He froze, his stomach turning into a giant block of ice as he saw Luke Ayles seated at a nearby table chatting animatedly with two other gentlemen.

“What is he doing here?” Morgan snarled, forgetting all about the beer.

Ezra and Duncan both followed Morgan’s line of sight and a look of confusion crossed their faces.

“Is he not supposed to be in Ashfield with Helena?” Ezra asked.

Upon hearing Helena’s name, Morgan felt every muscle twitch back to life.

“Do you think she is back in town?” Duncan asked. “I am sure Alice would love to see her.”

“Let us go say hello to the chap,” Morgan said, his glare still focused on Luke. “See what we can find out.”

The three of them stood up, ready to make their way to Luke’s table when a crowd of men inconveniently passed between them.

“I cannot bear remaining with this woman for much longer,” a familiar voice, drunk and full of complaint, said from the other side of the passing men. “She is so clumsy now, but spiteful as ever. And still she denies me!”

“That is what you get for going after one of the spoiled, pretty ones,” another man answered.

“Just keep giving her the tea. It will not hurt her, just make her weak enough to allow you to take her.”

“What is the point? I do not even want her anymore. My father is making me do this and now I do not have the slightest clue what to do with this cold, uppity woman. Maybe I should just go ahead and give it to her all at once. That would show her.”

An explosion of rage went off in Morgan’s head. He suddenly cut through the slow-moving crowd and lunged for Helena’s betrothed. He hated the man’s voice and would recognize it anywhere.

“You son-of-a bitch,” Morgan growled as his fists gripped onto Luke’s lapels.

With the force of his lunge he had Luke off his stool and his back to the ground in a second.

“I would not do that if I were you,” Ezra warned, smiling wickedly as he stepped in front of a friend of Luke’s who was coming to his aid.

“Definitely not,” Duncan said in agreement, standing before the another.

“What are you doing here?” Luke asked, his words slurring as he looked up at Morgan, wide-eyed. “Are you not supposed to be in the ring?”

“They put me out,” Morgan seethed, hauling Luke to his feet, “for being too violent.”

He pulled Luke’s terrified face to his and grinned wickedly.

“Would you like me to show you why?”

“ No,” Luke slurred, pushing at Morgan’s grip. “Let me go, you giant.”

Morgan shook Luke until his hands fell from Morgan’s grip and he turned a sickly green.

“Not until you tell me what you were talking about just now,” Morgan demanded. “That had better not have been about Helena.”

Through his terror and green complexion Luke managed a smirking grin.

“Why?” he slurred. “What are you going to do about it?”

Morgan pulled his fist back to cold cock the bastard, but Duncan’s hand wrapped around it, held it fast, and quickly offered him an alternative. “Let us take him outside. There is an alley out back.”

As Luke tried to argue, Duncan’s hand shot out and shoved a cloth into the man’s mouth. His angry words became muffled sounds around the gag, and like the sack of garbage he was, Morgan dragged Luke towards the door and up the steps to the street. The moment they were in the alley, Morgan shoved the man against the wall, and Duncan and Ezra flanked Luke on either side.

Luke’s eyes darted to each of them wildly as Duncan ripped the gag from his mouth, his chest heaving as his weak-minded fear overtook him.

“I knew you were a damn coward the moment I saw you,” Morgan seethed. “Now you can either die as one right here, or you can tell me what the bloody hell is going on, and where the hell Helena is.”

A wave of rage flooded Luke’s blue eyes and mixed with the terror inside of him. He bared his teeth at Morgan like a feral animal.

“You cannot kill me,” he hissed back at Morgan. “Not if you want that little brat of yours to stay alive.”

Morgan, Ezra and Duncan growled as one, and their fists collided with Luke’s face like a practiced symphony of drums. Morgan might have been the only one in love with Helena, but all of them had grown up and watched over her like a little sister, and their willingness to keep her safe knew no limits.

“God, I think you broke my nose,” Luke groaned.

“Not yet,” Ezra said pointedly, “but we will break every bone in your body very slowly and painfully until you tell us what you know.”

“ Very slowly,” Duncan agreed. Realizing that he needed to demonstrate to Luke what he meant, he reached for Luke’s right hand and seized his pointer finger. He gave it a violent twist until the bone snapped and Luke screamed from the pain.

“Then we will kill you.” Morgan promised, his blood singing at the thought.

“Fine! Fine! Fine! Oh, God, fine, just let me go!” Luke squealed.

Duncan glanced down at the man’s hand in his palm and caressed it almost lovingly. Then, with the quick twist, he also broke Luke’s middle finger at the knuckle and let go. Luke screamed again in pain, but Morgan clamped his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound.

“Just a warning of what will happen if you try to lie or hide anything from us,” Duncan said with a shrug, taking a step back.

“Talk.” Morgan commanded through gritted teeth. “ Now.” He scraped his hand roughly across Luke’s mouth.

“I did not want her. I never wanted her. I mean I wanted her in the way every man in the ton does,” Luke started to blurt out, his words slurred, rushed and unfiltered, “but I do not want to marry her.”

“Then why did you ask for her hand?” Morgan roared, his voice echoing through the empty street.

He did not know where it came from, but the ferocity poured from him with a vengeance. Luke flinched but answered.

“M-my f-father!” He blurted out, turning as far away from Morgan’s murderous gaze as possible. “H-he set all this up!”

Morgan’s mind suddenly flashed back to the letter Mr. Varley had brought him, and something clicked in his mind. The letter had not belonged to Luke after all.

“This is not the time to be vague, boy,” Ezra hissed, his fingers snaking out to seize Luke’s ear in a painful grip.

“I cannot tell you that,” Luke huffed, his chest beginning to heave in panic once more. “I have begged him to acknowledge me for years. He said this was the only way he would do it. Please, you have no idea what it is like to be ignored by your father, to be cast out of title and home for being a bastard.

“Look, I will stop giving her the tonic, I swear to you. And she can come to London as much as she wants. But I cannot stop this ruse. I need her.”

Morgan’s hand grabbed Luke’s fractured index finger and gave it a quick snap at the top knuckle. A silent scream welled in the man’s chest, his mouth fell agape and his eyes fluttered as though he was about to faint. Morgan slapped him with an open palm, reviving him before he could pass out.

“You are going to tell us who your father is and then you are going to tell us what you have been giving to Helena and why,” he commanded as Luke let out a low, agonizing groan.

“Reuben Knight,” he finally croaked. “He said we needed the girl for insurance. I do not know more than that, I swear!”

The rage eating Morgan alive suddenly ceased as all the clues came together. Reuben had hated them all long before his niece Barbara had married Ambrose. When they married he had openly despised the union, so why would he instruct his son to marry Ambrose’s sister?

“The Whittler is your father.” Morgan said.

The pain in Luke’s eyes was replaced by pure surprise.

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“What the bloody hell?” Duncan roared.

“George was telling the truth,” Morgan muttered, recalling the man’s plea as he was taken away. He had warned them. George Nicholson was arrested one year ago but he was not The Whittler.

“We have got to get to Ambrose and Helena, and someone needs to find Reuben,” Ezra stated, a promise of death evident in his somber voice.

“They are together now,” Luke stated, his eyes wide with panic. It was clear that he no longer wanted anything but to be set free. “At Ambrose’s estate. Having dinner. I was not allowed to attend.”

“Then your father does know how foolish you are,” Duncan growled. “Come on, let us go.”

“Not yet,” Morgan said, turning back to Luke with an eerie calm. “This tonic. What is it?”

A look of guilt passed over Luke’s face as he tried to escape Morgan’s commanding gaze.

“It is a sedative,” Luke confessed, his tone pitiful. “I do not know what it is called. My father instructed me to give it to her. He said it would not hurt her, but it would make her more… susceptible and easier to manage. It does not work though, not on her. It makes her weak, yes, but she still denies me.”

“You drug your soon-to-be-wife in the hope of bedding her?” Morgan rasped incredulously, his rage expanding. “You are not a man at all.”

“I just wanted my father to accept me,” Luke choked out, shaking his head as tears began to pour down his bruised, pathetic face. “Let me go now, please.”

“Not a chance,” Morgan and Ezra growled in unison, both yanking Luke up from the wall.

“You are coming with us,” Morgan seethed, pushing the stumbling man towards his carriage.

The moment he got Luke inside, Morgan wiped his hands across his trousers, unable to wait one second longer to remove the man’s vile tincture.