Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

F leur should have been thrilled by the parade of fashionable dresses that were brought through the bedchamber and crowded into the massive wardrobe. There were surely more gowns than she could ever hope to wear but she thanked the modiste on Mr. Porter's behalf and stared at the array of color on display.

She couldn't help but wonder what she was going to be trading to earn such a vast array of clothes, but then she remembered that it no longer mattered. Her brother was surely lost to her, engaging in such frivolous activities with the woman who had quite literally sold Fleur's virtue for her own gain.

Fleur tried to be thankful that her brother wasn't forced to live on the streets or worse. At least he had a place to sleep and he didn't seem to be hurting. Instead, he appeared to be flourishing without giving her a second thought.

Renewed anger flowed through her veins as she brought back all of the sacrifices and daring exploits she'd done on his behalf. She believed that he might have felt the same obligations but apparently that wasn't the case. Perhaps he was right and he was without redemption. Of course, she would never believe it was so. She had never given up the hope that anyone could recover their dark soul—even Drake.

She closed her eyes and recounted the kisses they had shared, and the earth shattering feeling he'd wrought out of her in the middle of the foyer. Never in her life had she wanted to toss away her virtue as much as she did now. It wasn't likely that she would ever make a proper match, especially as each passing day would draw her reputation closer to ruin. After a public display like the opera, it would likely be the last attempt she might have had to recover some part of her innocence but it was fading away into oblivion and she suddenly wasn't inclined to mind.

So many times she imagined Drake's hands on her body, gently caressing her skin. She wanted him to kiss her, to let her heart pound with anticipation that more would follow. She wanted to feel his hot skin against her palms, to stand in front of him, fully naked, and let him look his fill. She wanted to see the fiery hunger in his gaze as he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed where they were finally joined together as one.

Fleur's breath expelled on a shudder. As she walked over to the wardrobe, she closed her eyes and allowed her fingers to move among the soft silk and muslin until her breath caught. She opened her eyes and knew that was the dress she would wear that evening.

Removing it, she held up the gown next to her. It was a deep, rich silver that caught the light from the candles and shimmered with a brilliant hue. It was the perfect complement to her black hair and green eyes and the exact shade of his gaze. If there was anything that would surely capture Drake's attention, it would be this dress. By this evening, she planned for him to be slipping it off of her shoulders and laving a path down her spine with his tongue.

She rang for Erin to help her dress, eager for the night to begin.

By the time she had donned the gown and her hair was pinned into an elegant style, the housekeeper arrived to let her know that Drake had returned and was waiting for her downstairs.

With a steadying breath, Fleur left the chamber and began her descent.

From the moment she came into view, Drake's focus was riveted on her. His attention never once wavered until the point she stood directly in front of him. She waited for him to say something but instead, he inclined his head and turned to open the door for her. She should have been grateful for the chivalrous maneuver when she knew he wasn't inclined toward such behavior. However, she was disheartened when she didn't receive a single compliment. But it wasn't as though they were courting. He didn't have to woo her, did he? He had already paid for the convenience of her time; had bought the gown she now wore.

Nevertheless, she had her pride and as the hackney stopped at Drury Lane, she stepped to the ground with the footman's assistance and smiled in her most charming and warm manner. She was rewarded with a surprised blink from the young man's direction and a slight coloring on his cheeks that she found adorable more than seductive.

Before she could climb the steps, Drake grasped her elbow and bent down to whisper in her ear with that smooth, velvety timbre. "What are you playing at?"

Her heart started to pound, but not with fear. She rather wished it was, because then she wouldn't be so drawn to him. "Is it wrong to be kind?" she countered innocently.

He saw through her ploy. "If you have something to say to me, perhaps you should do so rather than lead on a man who would be unable to protect you."

With that, he released her and started forward. Annoyed at his high-handed behavior, Fleur decided that if he wanted to act that way, she would show him how coquettish she could truly be.

Fleur thought they would be headed for the main auditorium but to her surprise, they went toward one of the personal boxes directly in the center that faced the stage. "You have quite an impressive repertoire at your disposal, Mr. Porter," she murmured. "First your many houses about the city and now the best viewing box to be had at the most revered theatre in London."

He paused before the curtain that led into the interior. "Alas, I cannot lay claim to this particular box. Mine is further down the row. We shall be joining a fellow acquaintance who is eager to meet you."

Disappointment immediately shot down her spine. Fleur had been hoping it might be just the two of them for this evening's entertainment. "When were you going to tell me?"

"I just did," he returned curtly as he parted the curtain and held it open for her.

She glared at him as she passed but when her attention was soon diverted by a handsome devil-may-care of a gentleman with black hair and equally dark eyes rising from his seat to greet them, she decided that she could use this opportunity to her advantage.

The stranger's eyes flickered to Mr. Porter before lighting on her. "You must be the Miss Davies I've heard so much about." Fleur smiled broadly and extended her hand. "The pleasure is mine, domine carissime ."

Recognition immediately lit his gaze as he bent over and kissed her gloved knuckles. "Latin," he murmured. "She is beautiful and intelligent. I may not allow her to return to you."

Fleur's stomach fluttered when he spoke, because although he directed his statement to Drake, he never stopped looking at her. It didn't take her long to ascertain that he was an incomparable charmer.

He was perfect.

"That doesn't seem very sporting. You know my name but I have yet to learn yours."

He clucked his tongue in a manner of chastisement at Drake, and then the stranger waved a hand toward the front of the box—directly next to where he had been sitting, leaving Mr. Porter to take a seat on the other side of their host and away from Fleur.

She smiled broadly, because she couldn't have planned things more perfectly. If Drake cared for her at all, tonight would force him to prove his devotion. She was tired of waiting for him to come to her. She still wanted to fulfill some sort of purpose—and forget everything she had failed to succeed for her and Flavian.

"You can call me Avalon," he noted after they had settled. A quick glance at Drake proved that he didn't care for this situation at all, but other than the muscle that flexed in his jaw, he kept his attention forward and all but ignored their interaction.

"Avalon… Is that a family name?" she asked softly.

Avalon lifted a brow. "You might say it's something of a pen name."

"How mysterious," she purred. She reached out and laid her palm gently on his chest. "I imagine your closet is riddled with skeletons."

He chuckled as he put his hand over hers. "You have no idea." He slowly removed her hand but rather than cast her aside, he kept it within his grasp, as if he was laying claim to her, just as he'd promised.

Still, Drake didn't appear to notice.

Fleur withheld a sigh. She was starting to despair that they would ever fulfill their personal commitment, especially if he didn't care that another man was flirting with her. Unlike the harmless footman that he had acted willing to toss under the carriage wheels because of her kindness.

Tossing her head as the opera began to start, Fleur told herself that she wasn't going to worry about Mr. Porter and his moodiness any longer. She had a handsome man beside her that hung on her every word and that was enough to ease the banishment she felt in her heart.

* * *

If Drake grasped the edge of the seat any tighter, he was sure it would snap in his bare hand. He hadn't liked the innuendo in Avalon's eyes from the moment Fleur had walked into that box, but if he wanted the protection of the underground that he would provide, he had to play by the rules. Jealousy was not one of them. Although Drake had no doubt that they would be evenly matched in a physical altercation, he didn't care to have the thunder from his gang raining down upon him should things turn sour. He was trying to turn over a new leaf by straying away from trouble, not actively engaging in it.

Especially when it came to Fleur.

He knew what she was doing. It had been obvious from the moment she'd offered that poor footman more than a crumb of her acknowledgment. The reason, he could only surmise, but he knew it had something to do with his lax demeanor toward her. She was confused and the last thing he wanted to do was add to her despondent spirit. She had lost enough. He was trying to give her control over something in her life but it appeared her virtue was not something she cared to protect. The way she was acting so boldly toward Avalon told him that she was eager to toss it away on the first man who showered her with any sort of regard.

Well, Avalon could just piss off. There was an unspoken rule in the underground, honor among thieves. And that was one didn't go after another's woman. That was the sort of property that remained on neutral ground. Unless Avalon didn't wish to be the leader of the Blue Boys any longer, then he had best remember that Miss Davies had arrived on Drake's arm and not his.

Drake ground his teeth together. He wished he had a way to obtain something from Avalon's past to use as a threat against him but the man was effortless at keeping all aspects of his life carefully hidden. He was obviously a master of disguise to have evaded detection after more than three years. From the moment he'd erupted onto the scene in the underground he'd been a force to be reckoned with. He had gained the grudging respect of the most hardened criminals, even Amos, who was one of the most difficult men when it came to trusting others.

Other than himself.

As the first half of the Opera droned on in Italian, Drake tried to adopt a bored countenance but his attention was completely tuned to the couple chattering animatedly at his side. He wanted to yank Fleur up from that seat and send her home and directly to her chamber—where he intended to join her. However, he had no choice but to see this little play unfold. Oddly enough, most of the drama was in this box and not on the stage.

When the lights were lit and intermission was upon them, Drake could only pray that the second half was not filled with the same torture that the first half had been. He started to get up but Avalon waved him back down as a figure appeared at the rear of the box. "Miss Davies has expressed her interest in the ladies' retiring room and I have summoned Reynolds to escort her."

Drake narrowed his focus slightly on Avalon, not sure if he was comfortable with Fleur going anywhere without him. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," he said slowly.

Avalon leaned toward him. "I give you my word that she will be back unharmed, at our side, momentarily."

With a curt nod, Drake gave in, but his eyes burned a hole in Reynolds. He had never cared for the man and knowing that Fleur was going to be alone with him made him more than slightly uncomfortable.

Once they had departed, Avalon turned to him. "Shall we smoke?" He withdrew two cheroots from his vest and handed one to him.

Drake was eager to light the tip. He needed something to calm him down so he didn't make a drastic error in judgment. He wondered if it might be too late for that. "What are you doing, Avalon?"

He released a plume of white smoke. "I call it entertaining a beautiful woman."

"You know the rules."

"I am aware, yes." Avalon regarded him shrewdly. "As do you. If you want my assistance, you will allow the evening to progress as it is. I find Miss Davies very engaging."

"I will not deny her appeal, which is why I spent five thousand quid to obtain her."

Avalon smiled at the warning Drake couldn't hold back. He had never allowed his emotions to get the better of him before. He didn't understand why a woman, when there had been plenty before Fleur, that was causing him to act out now. "I never thought I would see the day that Mr. Drake Porter was besotted with any female. Be careful that you aren't felled by her many charms."

Drake smiled tightly. "I know my mind. I let nothing—and no one —stand in the way of what I want."

Avalon leaned forward and mumbled. "I shall remember you said that."

He glanced toward the entrance to the box and Drake slid his focus in that direction. When he saw Fleur, he hoped she hadn't been standing there long, but by the stunned look on her face and the utter betrayal in her eyes, he could tell she had overheard what he'd said.

Bloody hell.

* * *

It was enough of a cold dose of reality to cool her earlier ardor. Fleur found that the second half of the opera wasn't nearly as entertaining as the first half. Although Avalon did his best to engage her in light flattery, she could think of nothing but Drake's harsh words. It was apparent that he still looked at her as nothing more than a prize to be won when she had foolishly believed that they had started to become more. Perhaps as much as friends. But he had clearly drawn the line in the sand and she was content to stay on her side from this point on. Instead of trying to do her best to compensate him for the money he had spent, feeling somewhat guilty because of her actions and her brother's debt, she was now going to concentrate all her efforts to drag Flavian out of Harriette's den of iniquity and go somewhere they never had to see Mr. Porter or that courtesan ever again. Things could go back to being the way they were, hopefully without the gambling and drinking. She could only pray that her twin had learned his lesson in all of this.

If she could just turn back the hands of time and never leave Greenwich…

But it was na?ve to want something that was already tainted.

Swallowing over the harsh lump of regret in her throat, Fleur was grateful when the lights overheard signaled the end of the performance. Sadly, her thoughts had drifted and she'd missed most of the second part.

Avalon turned to her with a fond farewell. "My dear, it was lovely to meet you. Donec iterum convenient. " He kissed her gloved hand once more, lingering longer than the first time.

She tilted her head to the side and said coquettishly, "Shall we meet again?"

His dark eyes flashed with promise. "I shall make sure of it."

As he released her, a shiver of apprehension traveled down her spine. However, her unease didn't last long as Drake put his hand at the small of her back and steered her out of the box.

As they headed outside to hail a hackney, he nearly growled in her ear, "What do you think you're doing, making illicit plans with someone like that?"

She glared at him and moved out of his grasp. She despised how cold she felt without his warmth but she wasn't about to allow this slight to go unheeded. "I was being friendly."

"Oh, yes. I could see that. All. Night. Long ."

Fleur rolled her eyes. "If I didn't know better, I would believe you were jealous, speaking to me in such a crass manner. Perhaps you should emulate Mr. Avalon a bit more closely."

He abruptly spun on her. She came to a halt and bent backward to keep from running into him. "Should I? You have no idea what sort of man he is."

She tried to adopt a bored demeanor. "Much like you, I should imagine."

"He's worse," he snapped. "He's the leader of the Blue Boys, one of the most notorious gangs in the London underground."

She blinked. "Blue Boys? That doesn't sound very threatening."

"Perhaps not, but trust me when I will say if he gave the order to slit your throat you would be bleeding on the street right now."

Feeling as though his point had been made, Drake turned and started to stalk away. Fleur had to pick up her skirts and rush to keep up with him. She despised his moodiness. It had her spinning in circles. "Then why did you encourage us to stay with him this evening?"

"He might be a good ally to have if?—"

The way he ground off his statement would not be borne. "If what?" she prodded.

He took off his hat and shoved a hand through his dark hair. He looked over his shoulder, piercing her with those silver eyes. "If things do go the way they should with us."

She frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?" After a pregnant pause, she asked slowly, "Do you think I could be in danger by associating with you?"

"I have made a lot of enemies in my lifetime. It's not unwelcome to require additional protection."

As she absorbed this, he managed to hail a hackney. It stopped before them and he held out his hand to assist her inside. She went numbly. It wasn't until the carriage set into motion that she recovered her voice. "Does the same apply to Flavian? Or just me?"

He looked directly at her. "I wouldn't concern yourself about your brother."

"How can I not?" she countered. "We are blood."

"And yet, where is he?"

Fleur looked toward the window as tears stung her eyes. It was the one thing that she couldn't seem to get out of her mind, and although she wanted to be happy for Flavian for being happy, she couldn't resist the fact that she felt horribly betrayed.

She looked down at her hands as she blinked the tears away. "You're right. He should have tried harder to help our circumstances, or preferably, not allow himself to get caught up in his old vices again." She lifted her gaze to him. "But never has he made me feel as worthless as you did tonight when you said no one ever stood in the way of something you wanted."

"It's the truth. Would you rather I lie?"

"No." She struggled to keep in her disappointment. It almost strangled her with the strain of holding it back. "But neither do I want to be just a pawn in someone's life. If you never intended to care about me any further than what I could do for you, why go to that auction? Why bother spending so much on something you didn't want?"

His focus remained steady. "I have been asking myself that very question," he returned softly, and something told Fleur it was the truth.

She leaned her head back against the squabs. "It appears we are both stuck in a situation of our own making then. The question now is, how do we resolve it?"