Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

D rake caught himself drumming his fingers on his desk as he impatiently waited for Fleur and Amos to return. He couldn't seem to stop thinking of the odd way she had been acting that morning. He considered that it had something to do with his lack of sheaths during their lovemaking and he had already rectified that oversight. He couldn't imagine that he had been so caught up in the moment with her that he'd completely forgotten one important factor.

However, that wasn't the worst thing on his mind. Instead, he kept imaging her belly becoming swollen with their child. He had always been abhorrent of begetting any offspring before, but it didn't seem quite so distasteful anymore. Of course, they would have to live somewhere other than London. He wasn't about to stay here where he felt as though he had to look over his shoulder for ensuing trouble. He wouldn't dare add that sort of misery to everything else that Fleur had endured thus far. She had taken so much upon herself by worrying over her brother that it was time someone looked out for her.

To distract himself, he'd made a quick trip to see Miss Wilson to check on Flavian, but he wasn't surprised when he was turned away, with the claim that neither of them were home. For the first time, he actually believed the butler.

Now, as he heard the front door open, Drake jumped out of his chair and strode out of his study. Fleur was just removing her bonnet and pelisse in the foyer. She handed them to Amos and offered him a friendly smile as he walked away.

She was patting her hair when she spied Drake and hesitated. The wary look in her expression concerned him. He wondered if it had something to do with Amos. He knew the man couldn't always be the most accommodating. "Did you have a nice walk?" he asked.

"Quite," she returned evenly.

How the hell was he supposed to interpret that?

As someone who had never bothered to dance around a subject that was bothering him, he said, "I ordered some sheaths this morning, so you can set your mind at ease."

She appeared to force a smile. "Wonderful."

Rather than stay and continue their conversation, she started to move toward the stairs. This would not do at all. He recognized evasion when he saw it.

He blocked her escape. "I would know what's troubling you." He didn't phrase it as a question and he made sure his focus told her that he wasn't going anywhere until they'd had a proper discussion.

"Nothing."

Devil take it but he despised those one-word replies. "Very well." He grasped her elbow and steered her in the direction of his study.

"Drake! What?—?"

Her disapproval was evident but he ignored it as he propelled her into his private sanctuary and shut them inside. Leaning against the door, he crossed his arms and said, "Speak."

She gasped in indignation. "You are being ridiculous!"

"No. I'm being sensible. You aren't telling me the truth. I will release you once you?—"

"I'm not with child!" Her brusque announcement rang through the room with the force of a thundercloud. She released a heavy breath. "Now let me go."

She started toward him but he didn't budge. "Are you sure?"

She offered a bark of humorless laughter. "Of course. It's not something that can go unnoticed."

Drake scrubbed a hand down his face. He hadn't realized how much he was starting to grow accustomed to the idea of expanding his bloodline until then. Although he would have been shocked to learn she was going to have a baby, it made him feel… strange to know she wasn't. "I'm sorry."

She opened her mouth to release another retort but she snapped her mouth closed when what he said sank in to her consciousness. She seemed just as surprised to hear him offer an apology as he was that he'd uttered it. "Oh."

"Indeed." He lifted a brow. "It isn't something I say often. Just know that I mean it now." He pushed off of the door and moved toward his desk, but he veered at the last minute and stared out the window. He waited for the door to open and close, signaling her departure.

"Are you… disappointed?"

He turned back to her. The look of uncertainty on her face struck something deep within his chest. "Are you?" he countered softly.

Her forehead furrowed. "I… don't know." She shrugged. "I know it would be the worst possible circumstances and yet?—"

Drake nodded. "I know." He reached up and removed his cap. Tossing it to the desk, he ran a hand through his hair. "It's an odd sensation to want something you never thought you did."

Her eyes brightened. "Exactly my thoughts."

He snorted as he walked over to the sideboard and splashed some brandy into a glass. "Care for one?"

"Actually, yes."

He hid a smile when she walked over expectantly. Before he released the glass into her care, he warned, "Take it slower this time. Let the burn slide down your throat and warm you from the inside out."

She nodded and obediently took a small sip. She inhaled sharply but didn't gasp in alarm as she had previously. "I never considered myself as someone who liked to imbibe but this is rather good."

"It's fine French stock," he noted. "I managed to collect several cases during the war."

She blinked at him. "You were a smuggler ?"

This time he did offer a crooked smile. "Don't look so stunned. You read about my exploits. Smuggling was one of my many talents." He allowed his gaze to lengthen on her. "You are familiar with the others."

He loved the slight tinge of pink that stained her cheeks. He didn't know if it was due to the brandy starting to take effect or her own awareness. Perhaps a combination of both, but he found the reaction charming and quite appealing.

Glancing away, she finished the rest of her glass and handed it to him. "I should go now," she whispered.

He grasped her wrist lightly. "Why rush off?"

She closed her eyes as if pained. "We can't possibly?—"

"A kiss. That is all I ask for."

She looked at him with those wide green eyes and he found himself lost in their enchanting pull. "One kiss?"

"One kiss."

The glass was set aside and she moved toward him. He took her arms and placed them around his neck. Allowing his hands to slowly slide up and down her sides, he said, "Kiss me."

She tilted her head quizzically. "Me kiss you?"

"Yes."

She pressed her lips together and raised on her tiptoes. As she slowly touched her lips to his, he allowed her the chance to nibble and explore his mouth. When she stepped closer to him, her breasts pressing against his chest, she started to expand the embrace.

Drake had meant for this to be a chaste interlude but his body was starting to stir with unrequited desire.

"Drake…" She moaned his name against his mouth and he pressed her closer to him. It was going to take all of his self-control to end this madness before it got out of hand.

He allowed the torment to continue until their breathing was mixing together in heavy pants. Finally, he lightly set her back from him. "As much as I would like this to continue, we must stop."

With a regrettable sigh, Fleur nodded. "I suppose you're right."

He placed a finger beneath her chin. Kissing the tip of her nose, he said, "There will be plenty of time for us to resume our activities when you are feeling up to it."

She smiled and it was as if the entire room lit up because of it. "Letting me have all the control. Where is the fearsome Mr. Porter?"

Drake allowed his jaw to clench. Her statement shouldn't have bothered him, but it did. It clawed its way through his brain and refused to abate. As much as it pained him to admit that he was losing some of his drive to succeed in the harsh realities of life, perhaps it was time that he reminded himself—and everyone in the East End—who he was.

"That is a very good point."

She looked at him with mirth still shining in her gaze. "What is?"

He straightened. "I need to remind everyone who Mr. Porter is. I fear he's been missing of late. Rumors have already started to abound and without him, I won't have the proper enticement at my disposal."

Any lingering amusement vanished from her face. "What does that mean?"

He looked at the floor to gather his thoughts and then said, "It means I'm going to the Crown and Sceptre tonight to confront Avalon about his real reasons behind that card game. I feel it was a distraction for something else."

Determination lit up her green eyes. "I'm going with you."

He was going to sound like a cad, especially since he'd relied on her assistance before, but when it came to Avalon and his personal interest in the lady, he couldn't risk her safety any further. "No."

"He's my brother!" she cried. "I told you that I wasn't going to stand by. I have every right?—"

He gathered his jacket and shrugged it on. His glare was hard when he looked at her. "Be that as it may, my word is final."

She appeared as though she wanted to argue the point further, but as she spun around and quit the room, Drake exhaled heavily. He'd had a tough decision to make, but then, at some point, everyone did. And he knew, in this instance, he'd made the right one.

* * *

"I would say I'm surprised to see you, Porter," came the low drawl behind the desk as Avalon spun his chair around and faced Drake within the Crown and Sceptre pub. "But, to be honest, I thought you might have approached me earlier today instead of waiting until dusk." He lifted a dark brow and rubbed the back of his hand along the short dark stubble on his chin.

Drake crossed his arms and widened his stance. "I thought I would give you time to come up with a plausible excuse."

Avalon snorted. "I don't need one. I was performing a service for a friend."

"If you are speaking for Miss Wilson, no doubt you have performed many services for her."

"Tsk, tsk, Porter. No need to be crass," he admonished. "Such lewd comments don't endear you to my corner."

Drake's gaze narrowed slightly. "I find I am no longer in need of your assistance. I may have already discovered who wishes me harm."

"Have you?" The reply was silky smooth. "You know the villain who started the fire?"

"Nearly," Drake hedged, not wishing to give too much away. "It is only a matter of time before I can securely point the finger of blame."

Avalon inclined his head. "I do wish you the best of luck in that regard." He tilted his head to the side. "Now, about Flavian Davies. What is it that you wanted to know?"

"How much is he indebted to you?"

With a grin, Avalon retorted, "What makes you think he lost?"

"Because I have partnered him and I know how clumsy he is at cards."

"Ah." The other man's lips tightened. "Eight hundred quid."

Drake closed his eyes to gain his fortitude and then he asked, "Where is he now?"

"Licking his wounds with Harriette."

Drake wondered if that were true considering they hadn't yet returned home by that afternoon. "And how long does he have to recoup his losses that you were kind enough to allow?"

Avalon's dark eyes glinted with warning. "Again, Porter, you dance rather close to that line that isn't meant to be crossed. I don't care to have suspicion and dark accusations tossed at my door."

"Then perhaps you should have acted with more decorum when you were well aware that Flavian isn't capable of containing his vices."

"That isn't my concern," Avalon said with a careless shrug. "He should have refrained from the invitation if he wasn't able to accept defeat." He rose from his chair. "To answer your query, he has a sennight to get the funds to me or I will be forced to call in his markers." He stopped a few feet in front of Porter. "I will be glad to wipe his record clear, should you care to take on his debt for him."

Drake could tell that he was being goaded. He didn't like it but he had no choice but to hear the choice he was being offered. For Fleur's sake. "What are your terms?"

Avalon's lips twitched. "Flavian shall have the freedom to leave London with his name and reputation intact. In return, I would ask for his losses to be paid to me and in return for my generosity in allowing you to assume his debts, you also relinquish your lovely house guest to me."

Drake clenched his fists at his sides. " Never ."

Some of Avalon's cool demeanor faded. "I'm sorry to hear that, Porter. I was hoping we could come to an agreement but you will leave me with no choice but to insist Flavian pays his debt to me by his own honor. You cannot offer assistance of any kind if you wish for him to see the light of another day. And considering you may be emptying your pockets of another fortune to Miss Wilson very soon; you may well find yourself in dire straits after so long on top." He returned to his chair. "I will bid you good evening if you need nothing further since I don't take kindly to being duped and my consideration thoroughly ignored."

Drake wanted to say more, but he was content to let Avalon think he retained the upper hand. It was best he kept silent. His actions would soon speak for themselves.

He walked out of the office and spied Reynolds standing there. With his light hair plastered back from his forehead, he offered Drake a broad grin.

Drake ignored him and continued toward the back of the pub where he intended to quit the establishment and head back to his townhouse. He was eager to see Fleur again. He wasn't quite sure what he might say to her that would lead her believe that all would be well when he wasn't entirely certain his plans would be enacted as they were meant to be. He needed to consult with Amos to see where they stood.

He had just opened the door when he heard the scuffle of a boot behind him.

Drake ducked as he spun around, narrowly missing the baton that Reynolds held in his hand. Instantly, his fighting instincts came to the forefront and Drake replied with an uppercut to the man's jaw as they stumbled out the door into the mews. He had never particularly cared for Avalon's right hand, so he was eager to teach the scoundrel a lesson. He might be calling the kettle black by referring him to the title he'd always worn with pride but even Drake had his limits with what he would tolerate.

Reynolds' head snapped back from the force of the blow but he shook it off and came rushing at Drake. He was prepared for the head that came crashing toward his abdomen. Drake answered as he brought his elbows down on Reynolds' back. They instantly fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs, obscenities, and bloody knuckles.

As they each scrambled to their feet and began to circle one another, the mental games began.

"I'm not surprised that Avalon sent you to deal with me," Drake snarled. "But he sent the wrong man if he thought you could defeat me."

"Oh, I don't intend to defeat you," Reynolds snapped in return, as he spat out blood onto the ground from a split lower lip. His left eye was already starting to turn purple from their brief scuffle. "I intend to destroy you and take pleasure in doing so." He withdrew a jagged knife from the back of his trousers and held it out before him. Drake was unarmed but there was no rule book for gentlemanly warfare in the underground. It was every man for himself.

Drake laughed richly as he easily dodged the first swipe of the knife. "You can try. Many men have and all of them have failed."

Another swipe was easily evaded. The third, Drake was anticipating.

As Reynolds lifted his arm in an arc and began to bring it down, Drake kicked upward and sent the weapon sailing through the air.

The other man cursed vividly and with a howl of anger, came at Drake again.

This time, Drake fell to the ground, but it had nothing to do with Reynolds.

He sensed the danger behind him a moment before the glass bottle crashed over his skull. Reynolds came to an abrupt halt as Drake's vision wavered. He could feel his knees growing weak but he told himself not to falter.

It was no use. The darkness closed in around the edges of his vision. His last image was that of Fleur and how he'd failed to tell her how much she had changed him and how much he wanted to keep her in his life forever before he lost consciousness.