Chapter Eighteen

G avin stared after Holly as she left the ballroom. Every instinct screamed for him to go after her, but she was apparently eager to be out of his presence and he had no wish to upset her further. Not when she had already seemed near the point of tears when telling him that Jasper had contacted Mannion about selling Felton Manor.

Bloody hell. He would right this. If necessary, he would buy the bloody manor himself and gift it to her. But what was most pressing at the moment wasn't Holly's temper. No, it was her brother's life.

Turning, he saw Clara, who had done a fine job of pretending to disappear while he and Holly had spoken in hushed tones.

"What was Jasper doing here?" he asked, hoping he would have answers.

"I don't know," Clara said. "But he's caused quite a stir. I think I overhear him challenging the Duke of Gloucester."

Gavin groaned inwardly.

"Bloody hell. What is wrong with him? And what would give him the grand idea of challenging someone in such a public place?"

"Well, the duke insulted him. He called Jasper a child."

Gavin closed his eyes momentarily and pursed his lips into a line. He already knew that Jasper loathed being called a child.

"Splendid. Then I suppose he's gone off to prove himself the opposite. I've got to go after him, before he gets himself killed," he said, shaking his head as Derek and Silas appeared. "Holly's brother is causing a fair amount of trouble. I'm afraid I'll have to leave, though who knows where I should even begin searching for him."

"Ah," Derek said, his brow creasing. "I may actually know."

Gavin glanced at his friend. Derek rarely concerned himself with the seeder side of society… except when it came to gambling. Realizing this, Gavin knew where Jasper was going before Derek said it.

"Clemet Club," they said in unison.

Gavin turned to Silas. "Will you see to it that Holly, Aunt Marnie, and Katrina are conveyed safely home?"

"Of course," Silas said with a nod, before noticing Clara's wide-eyed expression.

"Is there something wrong?"

Clara shook her head.

"No."

But Gavin sensed she wasn't telling the truth. Curious, he wanted to question her, but Silas spoke first.

"We'll see everyone home safely."

"Thank you," Gavin said earnestly. Turning to leave, he found Derek by his side. "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you."

"There's no need for you to ruin your own night."

"Believe me, this is a godsend. Besides, you don't even know where Clemet Club is."

"And you do?"

"I know every gaming table in this city."

They were out the door and in a hired hackney within minutes, neither wishing to bother with waiting for a carriage. As they moved through the city, Gavin couldn't shake the image of Holly's angry face from his mind.

He hadn't meant to go behind her back, but at the same time Gavin sympathized with Jasper, a young man aimless in the world. He had been that young man and had gone abroad for many years searching for something he hadn't ever genuinely found until recently.

A purpose.

Gavin had never felt tied to any person or place until fate had dropped him square in the middle of the Smyth family. It had been infuriating at first to come to terms with the fact that he had been hoodwinked into marriage with a stranger, but every day since being informed of his new life, he had felt grounded. As if he had finally found a reason for living—and it wasn't an endless pursuit of a hedonistic lifestyle. He found his only desires wrapped around the finger of a single woman who was furious with him.

But even her anger couldn't upset him. Perhaps it was his ever-mounting optimism, but Gavin was even grateful that she was upset with him because it meant that she cared about him.

Perhaps it was foolish, but Gavin was convinced that he could explain everything to Holly once he saved Jasper from whatever mess he had managed to get himself in.

Derek watched him with a confused expression, his arms folded across his chest.

"You seem… Oddly calm."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Derek shrugged.

"If my brother-in-law insulted the Duke of Gloucester and was tossed out of St. James Palace after running up debts all over England's gambling hells, I'd be a touch more worried."

"He's a confused young man who will surely see the error of his ways in a few years. Until then, it's my job to keep him in line."

"Your job? Since when?"

"Since marrying Holly."

The earl stared at him.

"You seemed to have taken to the role of surrogate family patriarch with ease. I would have guessed it would be stifling to a man who never had to worry about other people."

Gavin shook his head.

"That's always what you and Silas assumed—that I enjoyed my solitary existence," he said lowly. "But the truth is, it wasn't very fun for me. Not having anyone always left me alone, didn't it? And while I was blessed enough to have friends who always included me, there's nothing quite like being a part of something, irrevocably."

"So, marriage suits you?"

"It does, although I doubt I'll have the easiest time of it over the next few hours. Holly is perturbed with me."

"Why?"

"I made the mistake of informing her brother that I would consider helping him sell off Felton Manor, their childhood home."

"And she didn't want you to do that?"

"No."

"Well, save her brother from being drawn and quartered over gambling debts and she'll likely forgive you."

"I've my doubts."

"Then they are unfounded," Derek insisted. "She seems very fond of you. I noticed it at Combe's dinner party. She's very eager to please you."

"Ah, yes," Gavin said, smirking as he gazed down at his hands, flexing his fingers. "She told me about the candies."

Derek nodded before peering out the carriage window.

"We'll be there shortly. Kilmann's club isn't far now."

"How do you know about Clemet Club? I thought it was only a place for desperate men."

"I would be a poor host if I didn't keep up with my competitors."

"I thought you were giving up your secret gambling games?"

Derek shrugged.

"I will, eventually. The earldom has certainly taken much of my time, but I find I'm unwilling to let them go for some reason."

"Well, you should. I haven't been to a game in months and Combe refuses to go anymore, not since the last time," Gavin said, referring to the time Combe actually won his wife in a hand of cards. "I'm sure the time to let go is nigh."

"When something comes along to distract me from the game, it might. Until then…" he trailed off as the coach stopped. "We must be here."

Opening the door, Gavin was surprised to see a very plain brick building in an unassumingly quiet neighborhood. Though the cobblestone streets were barren, Gavin felt an unnatural chill. This wasn't like the gaming spots by the docks, where taverns and streetwalkers lined every sidewalk, creating a bustling nightlife of danger. Nor was it the pristine, wide windowed buildings he was used to, such as White's, where only the finest of London's elite went.

This place was dangerous.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gavin saw two silhouettes at the end of the street, standing there unmoving as he followed Derek up the steps, where another tall, dark figure lurked in front of the door. It seemed there were men at every turn around here, and Gavin suddenly realized just how perilous it would be for someone trying to escape with unpaid debts.

Derek spoke to the figure only to be rebuked immediately.

"Piss off," the thick cockney accent bellowed through the night at them while Derek squared his shoulders as if ready for a fight.

"Now, see here—" he started, but Gavin held his hand up and pressed it into his friend's chest.

He had been to similar places in Greece, where talk could do little to persuade people. The only thing anyone generally understood was a coin.

Pulling out a five-pound note, Gavin squashed it into the man's fist.

"We want in."

"Don't you dare give him that," Derek warned as the man tucked the money away.

"It'll cost you. Kilmann don't like wasting his time on pigeons."

The derogatory term for tight-laced dupes nearly made Gavin smirk while his friend began to shake.

"What's the buy in?" Gavin asked.

"Two hundred."

"Absolutely not," Derek spat, but Gavin nodded.

"Fine."

"No." The earl placed his hand square in the middle of Gavin's chest. "Don't you dare give him so much."

"You don't have to come in," Gavin told his friend. "But I do."

Derek seemed to think about it for a minute and then, sighing loudly, nodded as the man turned and opened the door.

Clemet Club was not a place of grandeur or splendid things. It was dark and smelled heavily of smoke and gin. While White's had all the decorations and magnificence of a fine establishment with tall walls and high ceilings, Clemet Club was decidedly darker, with few furnishings aside from several tables lined against the walls in a part-open ballroom, part parlor. It had been refurbished to accommodate gambling tables, and there, against the wall, near a black marble fireplace, stood Kilmann.

Wearing a vest and beaver top hat, Kilmann stood a foot above everyone, scanning the tables from his post as Gavin and Derek entered. Kilmann was older than everyone in the room but sharper than most of London. His wrinkled, worn face seemed to be carved from ice. Gavin saw several men he knew, all sweating and focused on the games at their tables.

And there, at the faro table, sat Jasper. He hadn't even realized that Gavin and Derek had entered; he was so focused on the cards in his hands.

The scent of desperation and greed filled the air, and when Kilmann approached, he noticed the flicker of a predatory gleam in his eyes. They were new meat for him.

"Ah, Lord Trembley. To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence at our humble establishment?"

"We're searching for—"

"A game to play," Gavin said, unwilling to drop any unnecessary connection between them and anyone else. It seemed dangerous to let this man know too much about them.

Kilmann's gaze flickered to Gavin.

"Indeed. Well, we've a faro table set up, hazards just over there and vingt-et-un if you're feeling daring."

"Faro."

"Very well. Two hundred, all in coin. No other form of payment is accepted."

"Is that so?" Gavin said. "No house deeds, or anything like that?"

A flash of suspicion came over Kilmann's face.

"Do you have any house deeds you wish to offer up?"

"None that I know of. Shall we?" Gavin asked, turning as he went to take a seat next to Jasper, who finally glanced up. What little color had been present on the young man's face disappeared at the sight of his brother-in-law, but thankfully he was too well versed in guarding his expression to let Kilmann know anything about anything.

"No, that table is full," Kilmann said slowly, moving his hand to an empty table. "We'll start another game here."

Tension snapped between the room, and Gavin was suddenly aware that everyone else was aware of their presence. He and Derek sat at the table and began to play a very unsettling game of faro.