Chapter Eighteen

A sher was in a good mood. His time at the Hampton affair had yielded him an unexpected kiss with his beautiful lady and had allowed him the opportunity to hold her in his arms. Every minute he spent with her had him falling harder for her. He wished to spend all their time together, to delve deeper into all her hidden secrets, but that would come one day. He knew that the wait would be worth it in the long run. He just needed a fair amount of… well… patience.

A small smile swept across his mouth while he continued reminiscing about Patience and holding her close. If someone had told him months ago that his thoughts would be so utterly consumed by a woman, he would have laughed the whole idea off as a joke. He had never been more committed to another lady in his entire life, and he wondered how it was even possible that such a feat was capable. Surely, it was a miracle.

But no other woman had ever affected him like Patience. From the moment he had stumbled down those stairs into her arms, he had been hopelessly lost, even if it had taken him some time to work past his denial. He could only be glad that he'd come to his senses in time. She was a rare treasure just waiting to be taken by the right man and Asher prided himself on the knowledge that he had somehow also earned her heart.

His meeting with Mrs. Dove-Lyon this evening had reassured the woman that Asher had kept his word. He had no plans today or in his future to visit the women available on the third floor nor did he plan to take another mistress. Florinda would be the last woman he would take to his bed outside of wedlock and Patience would be his last woman he would ever know intimately. He shook his head in wonderment knowing he was now dedicated to just one lady. Yes… this was indeed a miracle.

"You're looking too smug this evening, Rowley," Oliver Pitt said from across the table. "Think you'll win this hand over me?"

Asher's gaze traveled to the man across from him. He picked up his cards, gave them the briefest glance before folding them and tapping the table as he laid them down. Staring at the pile of coins in front of him, he took up a stack and tossed them into the growing pile in the center.

"It seems I'm the one on a lucky streak tonight," Asher finally replied before he took a sip of his brandy. "You might want to fold, Pitt, before you lose all of your quarterly allowance."

"I have enough to pay my debts and win a game over you," Oliver sneered in contempt. He pointed a finger toward Asher. "Besides, I'm after a better catch than a gambling pot tonight. Even better than your ex-mistress."

Asher narrowed his eyes. "You're welcome to any of my castoffs, Pitt."

"I won't come in second to you again, Rowley," Oliver taunted with his free hand clenching his glass.

"I wouldn't waste my money making such a bet. For years I've watched your attempts to overcome your shortcomings. Your businesses have failed as have your investments to overcome your losses. Why, I have even heard Florinda tossed you aside. If that is indeed the case, then I have to commend her on her good choice. But your attempts to beat me out in even the simplest of endeavors will only continue to earn you another downfall. I'm not even sure why you refuse to simply admit defeat."

"Why you worthless piece of sh—"

Quince the dealer finally interjected. "Gentlemen, if we can proceed on with the game," he suggested pointing around the table to another man who looked uncomfortable. "I believe it's your bet, sir."

The gentleman looked at his cards before he folded, stood up, and left the remaining players to their fate. Two more men folded, while another two added their bets to the pile.

"Reveal your hands, my lords," Quince finally said as each man began to show his cards.

Asher kept his eyes on Pitt who watched his luck unfold before him. Asher didn't even look down at his cards but fanned them faceup in front of him with a smile of satisfaction. He knew perfectly well that he had the winning hand.

"Damn you to hell," Pitt cursed. He abruptly stood with a snarl of outrage. Before anyone could stop him, he flipped the table over sending cards and coins flying into the air. The players all stood to get out of the way as Pitt quickly lunged at Asher. He didn't get far before Philostrate and Demetrius, two of the gambling floor bouncers, took hold of him.

"You'll be barred for certain, Pitt, for acting out," someone called out to the sound of men's raucous laughter.

"Come along, Lord Pitt," Philostrate ordered as they began to pull him from the gambling room.

Pitt tried to break free and momentarily was able to grab hold of Asher's arm. "I'll see you in hell for this, Rowley. I'm going to take great delight having Patience as my lover."

Asher sprang for Pitt as soon as his words penetrated Asher's head. "The hell you will," he snarled back. It was Pitt's turn to laugh even as he was quickly removed from the Lyon's Den.

Mrs. Dove-Lyon quickly clapped her hands to bring order back to the room. "Nothing more to see here, gentlemen and ladies," she said pointing to the gallery where the women had gathered to see the cause of the commotion. "A round of drinks on the house and best of luck at my tables."

Asher shook off the hands of the bouncer that continued to clasp his arm. "No need to continue to hold onto me, Nick. I'm fine," Asher said before the wolf nodded.

"Just don't go after him, my lord. He's a nasty piece of work, and I wouldn't put anything past him," Nick warned as several servants rushed into the room to clean up the mess that had been made. Others offered drinks on silver trays to those in need of a refill.

"I wouldn't waste my time on Pitt," Asher responded before a glass of brandy was thrust into his hand by Lucius.

"Thought you might need a new drink," Lucius said scowling. "What the hell did you say to him that sent him off like that?"

"The usual taunts, I suppose," Asher said with a shrug.

"He's been trying to best you since our days at Oxford. You'd think he'd have learned by now that he's never going to one up you."

"It's a tiresome game that I've grown weary of but when he mentioned having Patience, that's what made me snap," Asher confided before raking his hand through his hair.

"He'll never win her so no need to worry on that account."

"I'm not worried about him winning her through any honest means, but I wouldn't put it past him not to do something more devious," Asher said concerned for his lady's safety.

"He's not that stupid." Lucius downed his drink before setting the empty glass on the tray of a passing servant. "Shall we have a go at another game?"

Asher contemplated the possibilities of keeping his winning streak alive. He stole a glance at the balcony where the ladies would stand to watch the men gamble, but Patience was nowhere in sight.

Asher shook his head. "I think I'll call it a night and quit while I'm ahead. I'll see you at White's tomorrow."

He called for his carriage to be brought around and went to gather his coat. As he headed toward the street to wait for his driver, he was struck a blow to the back of his head that brought him to his knees. Stunned, he felt himself taken by both arms toward the dark alleyway between two buildings. Fists began to fly, striking Asher repeatedly until he was staggering to remain upright. Dazed and confused and unable to defend himself, it wasn't until a familiar voice whispered in his ear that Asher knew who was behind the assault.

"Pompous prick," Pitt sneered before Asher felt a blade being pushed into his flesh. "You'll never beat me again."

Pitt pulled the blade out and took off as Asher fell back down to his knees. Blood gushed from his side, and he knew he would need to find help soon or he might bleed to death. The sound of a carriage coming to a halt nearby brought him hope and he forced himself to get to his feet. He barely made it to the sidewalk before he fell to the ground in agony. A groan left him and he heard a door being flung open.

"Asher?" The sound of Patience's voice was like that of an angel. "Cassandra, ask someone to send Dr. Thornberry to your residence. Darby, come help me get Lord Rowley into the carriage."

"Yes, Mrs. Moore," Cassandra's driver answered, and he came over to help Patience.

"Asher, can you hear me, darling?" Patience asked as two bouncers came running to help. "Be careful, he's been injured."

"Yes, madam," Theseus and Egeus said in unison.

"Patience… I can't be taken to your friend's house. Get me to mine," Asher managed to whisper through clenched teeth.

"Cassandra's is closer," she replied as she got into the carriage after Asher had been settled. She lifted her gown and began tearing one of her petticoats in strips. She then moved his waistcoat aside to hold the linen against the wound.

"Get a move on, Darby, and hurry," Cassandra called out to the driver.

The sound of the leather reins being slapped sent the horses into motion, the jolt of the carriage causing Asher to groan in despair. He wished he could have said a word of thanks to the ladies who had come to his rescue. He wished he could have protested that Patience's reputation would be in ruins, but he couldn't manage to do more than moan with the first rut in the road the carriage hit. He had passed out cold from the pain by the time they rounded the first corner of the street.