Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

D rake awoke early the next morning, naked and hard, lying next to Fleur in bed and eager to take her again. However, he wasn't such a licentious scoundrel that he couldn't let her gain some much needed sleep. The sun had just touched the horizon, and while he knew there were things that required his attention, he was reluctant to leave her side.

When they had returned from Vauxhall the night before, he'd carried her up the stairs where they had quickly divested themselves of those hindering clothes and spent the better part of the night and early morning intertwined in each other's arms.

She was definitely shifting something inside of him, and while he should be grateful that she was able to see the man behind the previous offenses he'd committed, he wondered if his luck would someday run out. The idea that Fleur might be snatched from him was not something he wanted to ponder. He had never contemplated such fear before, and it concerned him that Harriette was right. Perhaps he was getting soft.

It was not a comforting thought.

Forcing himself to leave Fleur, he donned the shirt and trousers he'd discarded the night before. He would change later, but right now he needed to confer with Amos to see if his cohort had discovered anything of interest from his inquiries the previous afternoon.

He was still tucking his shirt in his trousers when he walked in his study and spied Amos kicked back in his chair, his booted feet crossed at the ankles on his desk.

With a snort, Drake said, "By all means, make yourself comfortable."

"It was taking you quite some time to rise. I grew bored." Dropping his boots to the floor, Amos straightened but he didn't move and allow Drake to sit in his place.

However, he wasn't interested in sitting right then. The brandy decanter on the sideboard looked more appealing at the moment. He poured two fingers' worth in a tumbler and downed it in one fiery swallow. He repeated it a second time, and by the third he was starting to feel as if he could keep his focus from straying to Fleur.

Amos waited patiently for Drake to face him. Leaning against the mantel, he waited for his makeshift footman to speak.

He withdrew a sheet from his vest and tossed it on the desk before him. "This should give us a start." He pointed a finger in the center of the paper. "The names on this list are men that you have had previous altercations with that are currently in or near London. While it is a possibility that someone else could hire a paid assailant, I feel it's best to review these names before reaching that far."

"Agreed." Drake walked toward the desk and picked up the list. At a brief glance, he counted more than thirty suspects. As he read through the names, he shook his head. "It's none of these."

"How can you be so certain?" Amos returned.

"Because while they may be in London, they aren't free men. Most of these I assisted into jail." He walked over to the desk and gathered a key from a secret compartment where he opened a locked drawer. There, he pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to Amos. "This is the list I compiled myself. I feel they would be more worthy adversaries. Or if not, they have the ability to manipulate others to do their will."

Amos copied Drake's perusal, and then his brows winged upward until they nearly disappeared in his dark hairline. "Avalon? I thought he was an ally?"

"I am not discounting him," Drake said evenly. "I would hope he would have more sense than to cross me but he was rather infatuated by Miss Davies when they met and since he is starting to act as though he is untouchable, I wouldn't put it past him to betray me."

Amos nodded. "I can't believe I didn't consider the courtesan."

"She is just as devious as to back me into a corner. She is already trying to do so but I am not as worried about her. One snap of my fingers will have her behind an iron door if I have my way."

"It seems to me we shouldn't ignore the threat of any woman, including scorned ladies."

"You will not find any of those," Drake said emphatically. "I was very clear when I started any affair that it would be brief and there were never any hard feelings at the end. I made sure of it."

"Fine." Amos got to his feet and gathered his previous list. Tearing it into small pieces, he walked toward Drake and tossed them into the fire. "I will return tomorrow morning with an update, assuming you will not need me in the interim?"

"No. I plan on laying low today."

"And spending time with your new interest?" Amos guessed with a wink from his exposed eye.

Drake offered a tight smile. "I've never been one to kiss and tell."

Amos brushed past him and headed for the door.

Once he was gone, Drake walked to the window and looked out at the day. Whereas the day had begun sunny and bright, the clouds were starting to roll in from the west. No doubt there would be heavy rains descending on them later in the day. It seemed like the perfect time to laze the day away with Fleur. But he would never call her a courtesan. It seemed like such a crass word to call the woman who was slowly reminding him that his heart was worth more than pumping blood through his body to keep it alive.

Ignoring any further duties, he headed back up the stairs.

* * *

With a yawn, Fleur lifted her arms above her head—and hit something next to her. She turned her head to see Drake staring at her. His eyes roamed over her face with mirth and she rejoiced at the sight. "Have you been here all this time?"

"Hardly. I have never been someone who can sleep until the twelve o'clock hour."

"Noon? You cannot be serious!" Instantly, Fleur sat up with a shocked gasp and stared at the rain pounding against the windowpanes. Although it caused the day to be dark and gloomy, she had never been one to sleep so late.

"I am," came the dry reply. "But then, I did keep you up rather late."

Fleur flopped back against the pillows, only realizing that she was fully naked beneath the covers. She clutched the counterpane to her chest and glared at him. "You're turning me into quite the lazybones."

He reached out and rubbed a hand on her bare shoulder. "I would not call the positions we engaged in last night as being idle."

Heat rushed to her cheeks at the memory, a combination of embarrassment and enthusiasm. She didn't know she could throw such caution to the wind and allow all of her senses to become so engaged with another person. She had nearly forgotten about the unfortunate interaction with her brother, lost as she was in Drake's strong arms.

With the new day, those same reservations returned in full force to drown her with melancholy. "I am concerned about Flavian. I feel he is going to do something drastic."

Drake frowned tightly. "What makes you say that?"

She sighed. "He mentioned a card game this evening and I am terrified he will find himself in dire straits. I can only hope he can't find the blunt to engage in the match."

Drake's expression was grim when he said, "I'm sure Miss Wilson will give him the amount necessary to play."

Fleur blinked. "Why would she do that? Does she despise both of us so much?" She put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "I made the worst mistake of my life by convincing him to leave Greenwich. I only did it because—" Her gaze popped open and she looked at him.

"To escape me," he finished. "I am aware, and I do not fault you for it. You were only doing what you thought necessary to take care of your brother. I know that now even if it does prick my pride to know that you were so desperate to escape me rather than come to an alternate understanding."

She reached out grasped his upper arm. "I had no idea what sort of man you were. All I knew is that you terrified me." Her eyes widened slightly, as if she'd realized what she'd inferred. "Of course, I no longer feel that way?—"

She could see the shutters behind Drake's eyes slam shut. "Then you would be foolish to ignore your instincts." He rolled out of the bed and walked over to the window where the rain and wind were pelting the pane with relentless force. "Don't you remember the attic room? My life is littered with misdeeds. If you think I won't revert to drastic measures if the situation warrants it, then you would be wrong." He turned to face her and the resignation on his face tore at her heart.

"I know who you were ," she countered. "But I don't feel you are the same person you once were. People have the ability to change."

"If they want to," he stated. "I'm not sure I'm ready to give up all the power that Mr. Porter has gained over the years. He was a force to be reckoned with. Everyone knew my reputation and it preceded me wherever I went in England. If these people discover that I don't possess the same threat, they can use it against me." He shoved a hand through his dark hair. "Burning that house is just the beginning of the trouble I could be facing."

"Then we speak to Bow Street. We can gain assistance from reputable gentlemen out to secure justice."

Drake snorted. "Do you know how many of those Runners are in the pockets of the underground? They are eager to turn the other way when trouble starts to brew. Its why the London gangs were established. They make their own rules, ensuring that they are the ones who benefit. If there is a misstep, the traitor is dealt with accordingly. I know because I used to be a part of their numbers. While I should regret it, I can't say that I do. Being involved with criminals makes you understand how they think." He walked back over to her, but he didn't sit down or gather her into his arms. Instead, he looked down at her, as if to emphasize his position within the lower echelon of society. "I have made use of the talents I have gathered over time, and I cannot stop now, not until this threat against me has been vanquished. I will not apologize for my actions beyond this point. Do you understand that?"

Fleur swallowed hard. She was worried about where this path might take him. She feared he might revert to his misdeeds like her brother was threatening to do. Whereas she could only hope that Flavian came to his senses before it was too late, she knew that Drake was a stronger man. He had survived this long against all the insurmountable odds.

He would survive this too.

She reached out a hand to him. Allowing the coverlet to drop away and expose her breasts, she said, "I suggest that we make use of the time available to us."

* * *

After spending most of the afternoon in a tangle of bedclothes, Drake left Fleur to bathe in their chamber as he left to make use of the tub he'd retained in the kitchen. However, rather than startle his cook, he had it moved to the studio.

Lying his head on the rim of the copper, he allowed the sting of the steaming water to help secure his next course of action.

Following what Fleur had told him about the card game to be held, Drake had begun to wonder if Flavian was being lured out into the open in order to get to Mr. Porter. He could easily be used as bait. Or perhaps it was that Harriette intended to laugh at the young pup when he was shoved back into misery yet again. The courtesan knew that his sister wouldn't be there to protect him, so no doubt she was curious how he might stand on his own. Drake, unfortunately, already knew the answer to that. Flavian was not as strong as his sister. He would collapse under the weight of his actions. Because Fleur still cared about him, Drake felt honor bound to try and stop the man from making a complete mess out of his life, where there was no longer any turning back or chance at redemption.

Amos had disappeared until the morning, so Drake reached out to the only other person he might trust, Devon.

Drake sent round a code that Amos' son would be able to decode with efficiency. They had devised their own means of communication some years ago. It had worked then and it didn't fail him now. A reply was sent by messenger a short time later that gave him the information he required.

He scrubbed a hand down his face when he saw that the match would be held at the Crown and Sceptre, the same pub that he'd fought in that illicit boxing match. He wasn't eager to return there, as his presence would start to become noted, but he realized he didn't have a choice if he wished to drag Flavian out of there.

He ground his teeth together. The man would owe him dearly for this, supposing they actually made it through the night unscathed.

Stepping out of the tub, Drake dried himself off and wondered what he might say to Fleur. Now that they were sharing the same bed, she would wonder about his absence if he wasn't there. He certainly couldn't reveal the truth because she would insist on going with him. And considering the apprehension he would be under about her safety; he couldn't take the risk. It would be easier if he slipped into the pub and back out without drawing too much attention.

Unfortunately, for all his conniving in the past, he couldn't seem to lie to her now. Instead, he instructed a footman to head up with a note that he had to slip out for a brief time to check on one of his other lodgings. He might not be able to tell a blatant untruth to Fleur, but he had no trouble putting it on paper.

Determined not to spend too much time out, Drake hailed down a hackney to take him near the pub. Instructing the driver to stop a few blocks away, Drake walked the rest of the way. He kept his shoulders slumped and his cap pulled down low over his brows. He wore clothes suited to his surroundings and moved as though he had never left. Too much confidence would see a knife in the center of his ribs. He had the scars to prove it. Thankfully, none of the wounds had been deep enough to drain the last of his lifeblood.

Entering through the front door, Drake was glad to see most of the patrons were already well into their cups and flirtations with the serving wenches that Drake slipped among the assemblage with little heed paid to his movements. He didn't think he had been recognized as yet, but he wasn't going to go out of his way to renew old acquaintances either.

He headed toward the back of the pub where a crowd had gathered. It was a key indication that large sport was about to take place. This place was notorious for illegal boxing and gambling, where the stakes were generally much higher than simple coin. These weren't the gentleman clubs that the aristocracy frequented where the largest hindrance was a cloud of cigar smoke and the scent of brandy wafting on the air.

Here, lives were traded with the expertise of nothing more than a sleight of hand.

He allowed his gaze to travel over the faces eager to jump into the game when they had the chance. Some were almost salivating with each turn of the cards. Drake had never bothered to engage in these deadly matches. He preferred to engage when there was blunt to be had, or perhaps a bit of sport. With Flavian, he had saw an ease to his boredom by having a bit of fun. At the time, Drake had found himself at a crossroads, not sure where he wanted to go. He had considered the western coast, as he had enjoyed some previous exploits near the sea, but instead, something had compelled him to travel in the opposite direction, toward Greenwich.

Some days he wondered if he would have been better suited to follow his first instinct.

But then he wouldn't have met Fleur and he wasn't sure he wanted to ponder that regrettable circumstance for long.

Finding a sturdy, timber frame to lean against to observe the match, Drake was relieved to see that Flavian was nowhere in sight. He hoped that meant the young pup had decided to forgo this evening's entertainment and decided to stay home to nurse the hangover he'd likely been suffering that morning.

Waiting for over an hour, he was almost convinced that Flavian wasn't going to appear, but then the door opened and Avalon walked inside. But it was the man striding beside him that caused Drake to mutter a curse.

Fleur's brother.