Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

B y the end of the long day, Fleur was eager to sit down and rub her tired feet and get something to eat. She hoped that her brother'd had the kindness to fix supper with what little rations that they had to their name. But cabbage stew would be better than nothing at this point. Her stomach was rumbling with hunger.

The Coach and Horses was on the way home and although she wanted to believe the best of Flavian, as she walked by the pub and heard the commotion going on within, her heart sank. There were very few times that the pub got that rowdy. There was either a fight or a high stakes match taking place. Knowing her brother's weakness for cards as well as everything else, she feared that Flavian had already returned to his usual vices. She might have saved her breath this morning because it never seemed to do any good.

Anger energizing her, Fleur stomped toward the establishment and pushed open the door.

At first, she wasn't able to see anything. The crowd was on their feet making it impossible to see what was going on. But it was obviously something of import, for another round of cheers went about the pub and money was being exchanged among the assemblage. It made her furious because she was more convinced than ever that Flavian was at the heart of this debacle.

When she managed to catch a glimpse of the innkeeper through the crowd, the despondency she saw on his face confirmed what she had prayed not to be true.

Pushing her way forward, through the throng of eager onlookers, she stopped when she saw her brother lay down a hand of cards that many would think was a good hand when playing Three Card Brag. But when her mind whirled with what he might have been using for blunt—and how much—she placed a hand on her stomach.

"It's your play, Mr. Porter."

The smug sound of Flavian's voice didn't bother her nearly as much as the identity of his opponent. With the hat pulled down low and a slow swirl of smoke coming from the cheroot between his fingers, Fleur recognized him as the same man who had been at the duel that morning. She didn't know who he was and neither did she care. She just knew she had to get her ignorant brother away from him before he did any more damage.

She started to move forward once more, but the collective gasp that went around the crowd as Mr. Porter laid down his cards did not sound positive for Flavian—or her. "A running flush is very good, Mr. Davies, but I regret that a prial trumps your hand."

A puff of smoke emphasized his words and accentuated the look of shock on her brother's face. She knew right then that he had done something unthinkable. Something possibly unforgiveable.

She pushed a random stranger out of her way and stood over Flavian. She saw the empty tankards lined up along the opposite edge of the table and realized that it was worse than she'd imagined because he was in his cups. That was when he made the most dreadful errors in judgment that she generally had to pay for.

She reached down and grabbed his jacket and yanked hard. He stumbled out of his seat but managed to retain his footing as she hissed, "We're going home. Now ."

Flavian appeared to still be in shock over his loss, and she would learn what she would have to atone for later. Right now, she just wanted out of this miserable place. Shoving him toward the door, she made it a handful of steps before a deep voice behind her asked evenly, "I didn't realize there was a Mrs. Davies."

Fleur didn't bother to turn around and look at the man. She knew it was the one who had challenged her brother and she hated him for it. "I'm his sister, sir. And I would kindly ask you to leave us alone before you do any more damage."

Without saying anything else, she managed to get Flavian outside before the man spoke up again, having followed them out the door. "I'm afraid it's too late for that, Miss Davies."

Again, Fleur's stomach twisted into a knot of fear. She didn't lessen her pace as she gritted her teeth and tossed over her shoulder. "You took advantage of my brother. That is hardly the act of a gentleman."

"I never said I was one."

Her breath started to come in short pants. Either from anger or panic, she wasn't yet sure why as of yet. "Whatever it is we can discuss at another time, when my brother has had time to sober from all the drink you plied him with."

"I hope you aren't trying to infer that I did anything without Mr. Davies consent. I can assure you it was a fair game and there were plenty of witnesses to attest to that fact."

Fleur was starting to lose patience but since they were nearly at the cottage, she kept her silence until she was able to open the door. "I will be inside in a moment," she snapped at Flavian, who walked over the threshold with the same sort of blank look on his face. She slammed the door behind him and finally turned to face her adversary.

The breath abruptly left her lungs.

This man wasn't just a nuisance. He was the blackguard of all blackguards, the devil's right hand. Beneath the cap that he wore low over his forehead were a pair of intense silver eyes that penetrated her without a single touch. He intruded upon her very soul without trying because he was a man born with hell running through his veins. Never before had she met a man like him, and she could only pray that she never did again.

However, since she needed to stay strong against him, she crossed her arms and squared off with him as an equal. But if he challenged her to a duel, something told her she wouldn't win that fight. "What does he owe you?"

He had tossed aside his cheroot somewhere along the way, but his height and the strong line of his jaw and cheekbones were enough to cause her heart to jump into her throat with awareness of this virile figure standing before her in the waning light of day. He might have been handsome except for the fact he was a demon in the guise of a simple human. She dreaded to think what sort of menacing man he might be in the darkness.

"More than you can hope to ever pay," he returned, his words dripping with a mix of sarcasm and satisfaction, as if he enjoyed having people at his mercy. She had no doubt it was true and she didn't relish being his next conquest.

She closed her eyes momentarily and exhaled a heavy breath. "Whatever it is, I will make it right."

His gaze flicked up and down, and then his lips stretched into what could only be considered a smile, although it was without any sort of warmth or affection. It was calculating, like he was working out a solution in his mind that would only benefit him. "It is not your debt to pay."

"Perhaps not," she concurred. "But I have taken care of my brother for more than five years. He is all the family I have and I won't let anyone take him from me." She dared to step closer to him. "Name your price, Mr. Porter."

* * *

Drake wasn't surprised by anyone. Ever. For someone who had grown up in the least welcome circumstances, who had fought and clawed his way to the surface or face death, he had learned a lot about people and what they were willing to withstand for survival.

He had yet to find anyone that knew what that feeling was like but he felt a slight connection to Miss Davies. He'd had no idea that Flavian had a sister but he was more intrigued that he would admit. "How old are you?"

"Four and twenty. Six minutes older than my brother."

He lifted a curious brow. "You're twins."

He didn't phrase it as a question but she answered him nonetheless. "Yes. Does that make a difference?"

He wanted to laugh at the mocking lilt to her voice but he hadn't dared to try in so long he wondered if he still had the ability. Instead, he narrowed his gaze sharply. "It matters not to me if you are siblings, cousins, or related at all. The only thing I want is what is owed to me."

"Again, I ask, how much does he owe you?" She clenched her jaw mutinously and with the way her green eyes flashed and the waning light hit her black hair, Drake found himself temporarily transfixed by her sensual allure.

He quickly pushed any interest aside as his exploits were dedicated to the ladies of the brothels, women who wanted the same things he did, pleasure and money.

"Six hundred pounds."

He had to applaud the lady for not falling over in a dead faint at the sound of the small fortune. It was a pittance to Drake these days but to someone in poor condition like the Davies' twins, it was easily a year's wages.

"I see." She seemed to consider her options but he couldn't imagine she would find any solution that would benefit them both. "Are you staying at the Coach and Horses, Mr. Porter?"

"I had not yet secured lodgings for the night. I didn't think I would be doing much more than passing through."

"It's a shame you didn't follow through with your original intent," she noted primly. "If you give me your direction, I will call on you tomorrow to discuss this matter at length. I will need to speak with my brother when he is properly coherent."

Drake wondered what she might be thinking in that lovely head of hers but he decided to humor her because he didn't have anything better to do. "Very well. You can find me there in the morning. Nine o'clock?"

"That suits me."

With that, she turned and entered the cottage, leaving him standing alone.

Drake turned on his heel and headed back for the heart of the village. Miss Davies had given him something to ponder for the evening. Herself.

He regretted that he didn't catch her name but it wouldn't be a large hurdle to overcome. He was confident that he could gain the information from the innkeeper. Although Mr. Evans had appeared to be friendly with the Davies' siblings, he hadn't done much to stop the gambling match. No doubt the extra income he'd earned from the eager patrons had swayed his conscience to allow it to continue.

Whistling a jaunty tune to himself, Drake decided that he wouldn't mind getting to know Miss Davies a bit more. When he considered the curves that were lurking just beneath the worn clothes and those green eyes that he pictured darkening with passion, he almost smiled.

* * *

"Get your things. We're going to London."

Flavian looked at her with a puzzled expression. The drink was still working on him. "What are you rambling on about?"

Fleur lost what was left of her patience. She walked over to her twin and poked him roughly in the chest with each point she made. " First , you directly go against my plea to cease and desist your excesses. Second , I don't have the money to recoup your losses, so we are going to have to flee. Third , you might have just made one of the worst enemies we could possibly imagine."

Thinking of those glittering silver eyes now made Fleur want to hide beneath the bed.

Flavian blinked. "How much did I lose?"

"Six hundred bloody pounds!" she hissed. She didn't wait for that to sink in before she stomped into her room and started gathering as many of her personal effects as she could. Her brother followed her and as she tossed things onto the bed, she continued to rant about his behavior. "You see, unless you have managed to find a way to marry a rich heiress, there is nothing else to be done. We had a good life here, Flavian. I liked teaching at the orphanage. But, as usual, you have made it impossible for us to enjoy a simple existence. If I hope to gain any funds to keep us afloat then we are going to have to make some drastic changes. If you won't do it then it appears it is up to me."

He snorted, as if she was being nonsensical. "That's impossible. I don't have six hundred pounds."

Fleur's teeth gnashed together. "You didn't listen to a word I just said, did you? I am going to have to do the one thing I vowed never to do because of your inability to restrain yourself."

He crossed his arms and went to lean against the doorjamb. He nearly missed and stumbled to regain his footing before he let his arms go lax at his sides. "I find that particularly insulting?—"

"Good!" she nearly shouted. Stuffing her things into the valise, she slammed it shut and faced off with him once more. "I have reached my limit of tolerance with your bad habits. I love you as my brother but I am tired of taking care of your mistakes. If you want to go with me or not it's your choice. But I am not going to stay here and try to explain how I might come up with enough money to pay off this man. I have been a fool to imagine I could live a proper life until this point. I can see now it was only a dream."

She brushed past Flavian and headed for the door. She knew that she could secure a horse from the pub but she would have to be stealthy about it. The way her luck was going at the moment Mr. Porter was likely to show up unexpectedly.

"Fleur, wait."

Her brother grasped her arm and she stopped with a frustrated exhale. She turned to him and saw that some of the earlier alcoholic glaze had dissipated from his brown eyes. She was thankful for that at least. Perhaps he might see reason after all. "I'll grab my things."

She considered leaving without waiting for him but she had never been able to deny him anything. The responsibility that continued to flow through her veins was a true hindrance.

He disappeared into his room and then returned a short time later carrying a bag. "I'm ready." She nodded sharply, intent on putting as much distance between them and Mr. Porter, but her brother's next words made her pause. "I'm sorry. About everything."

Fleur wanted to believe him. She really did. But she'd heard the contrite note to his voice before. And expected to hear it again. Unfortunately, it was too late for apologies as the damage she'd always worried about had finally occurred. "Let's not talk of it anymore. Time is not on our side."

Together they quickly made their way to the stable yard of the Coach and Horses where she encountered Daniel. He frowned when he saw them. Before he could speak, Fleur said, "We need two horses made ready as soon as you can make them able." She glanced at Flavian. "We need to get to London tonight."

With a heavy sigh, the stablemaster nodded. "I see."

Fleur followed him inside the stable as he got to work. Flavian walked over to the other side and sat down on a bale of hay to wait. "I will send the horses back as soon as I'm able," she promised.

Daniel shook his head as he set the sidesaddle on the docile mare. "Are you sure there's no other option for you?"

She wished she could say yes. "Not after what happened this afternoon."

He paused in his task. "I would have stopped him if I'd known what was happening."

"I know you would have," she whispered, emotion starting to clog her throat. "But it's done now. There is no use wishing for a different outcome." She glanced toward the pub and shivered. "Something tells me Mr. Porter is not the sort of man to absolve such a debt, so this is the path I must traverse. What I make at the orphanage will not gain me the sort of funds I could earn in London."

As Daniel ensured the mare was ready, he walked over to a gelding and started to make him ready for the journey. "I fear you are the only one who has drawn the losing hand this round."

Fleur tried not to allow his words to affect her but he was right. "I love my brother." It was a weak explanation but it was all she had to offer. "He is my only family. I can't let something happen to him if I might find a way to prevent it."

"It still isn't right," Daniel said firmly as he led both horses by their bridles.

Flavian walked over and kept his head down in shame as he mounted, but Fleur made sure to embrace the man who had become a friend to her. "You can do what you will with our fencing attire. I won't be needing it after tonight."

With Daniel's assistance, she got into the saddle. With one last watery glance at the man and the town of Greenwich, Fleur headed out into the darkness with her brother right beside her.

* * *

Mr. Porter glanced at his pocket watch. It read precisely nine o'clock and Miss Davies had yet to appear for their appointed meeting.

He sipped on the black coffee and told himself that she was running late. And yet, the rational side of thought told him that she wasn't in the habit of tardiness. The hard truth was that she wasn't coming. She had lied when he had expected better of her. She had seemed the honorable sort of woman but he should have known there wasn't such a thing as a woman who kept her promises. He'd come across too many of them to believe any of the venom that they spewed out of their mouths.

Setting his cap on his head, he flipped a coin onto the table for his drink and headed out to the stable yard. He considered going directly to the woman's house and confronting her there. But again, his instincts were telling him that would be a fool's errand.

He walked into the stables and spied a young dark-haired man brushing down a rather impressive black Destrier stallion. "Very nice lines," Drake noted.

The man glanced up and offered a nod. "He is one of the best we've housed here for some time."

"Indeed." Drake didn't bother to point out that the fine horseflesh was his . He looked about the stable and then moved a bit closer. "It seems to me that there is not very many horses housed here at all. It seemed more yesterday."

Drake watched him carefully and saw the way he lowered his head as if to concentrate on his task rather than evade the query with a blatant untruth. "I can't say. The pub has many customers that pass through. I just take care of what is here." He set the brush aside. "If you don't mind, I need to speak with the blacksmith about?—"

In a swift movement, Drake had his dagger poised at the man's throat. "Actually, I do mind." The Adam's apple bobbed beneath his blade and the steel nicked the man's throat. A shame. He didn't intend to cause him any harm. Or not much so long as he told him what he wanted to know. "What is your name?"

The stable master didn't move. "Daniel."

Drake lifted a brow. "No last name?" When Daniel remained stubbornly silent, he gave a mocking snort. "I suppose it doesn't signify." He looked him directly in the eye. "I don't suppose you are familiar with Flavian Davies and his enchanting sister, are you?"

The opposing gaze flicked with recognition. "It's a modest village. Most of us are known to one another."

Drake wasn't sure if he was intending to cast him in a dark shadow as an outsider but he understood stubbornness when faced with it. He flashed his gaze. "I understand you might consider the siblings your friends but Mr. Davies has absconded with something of mine. I assume you are aware of the game that took place yesterday?"

The man lifted a brow as if to question what the point of this inquisition was.

Although annoying, Drake had to admire his fortitude. However, it wouldn't last long. Over the years Drake had developed a talent for gaining information. Setting his face closer to the stable master, he said low and evenly, "I ask because I believe you know what has happened to my quarry and I expect you to tell me where they went."

Again, the man was silent, but Drake could see the flick of uncertainty that passed through his gaze. It was enough for him to move the dagger down to the center of his trousers and press the tip against a rather sensitive area. " Now if you please."

With a gasp, Daniel closed his eyes, but thankfully his mouth started to work. "London. They went to London," he spat through clenched teeth.

Drake pressed a bit harder causing Daniel to wince. " Where in London?"

He inhaled sharply, a curse following. Drake wasn't sure if it was directed at him—or to the threat to his nether regions. "Chelsea."

With narrowed eyes, Drake asked, "For what purpose?"

"To speak with a friend to ease her situation." He glared back at Drake, his defiance finally making an appearance. "To find a way to pay you ."

Drake's mouth twisted as he muttered in a low tone, "Thank you, Daniel. You have been of great assistance." Bringing up the dagger, he flipped it around and slammed the handle against the stable master's temple. He instantly crumpled to the ground. Although he had to give the man a regrettable headache, he couldn't allow him to alert the authorities either. It had been a firm rule that Drake had set down for himself long ago.

He hadn't intended to return to London so soon but it appeared he had little choice in the matter. He glanced about the stable deciding he would inspect things before he took his leave of Greenwich. If Daniel was as friendly with the Davies' twins as he believed, then there could be something here that might be of use.

It didn't take him long to find a door that looked interesting. He pushed it open and saw a small room on the other side with a single trunk. Curious, Drake walked over and lifted the lid, surprised to find that it wasn't locked. At first, he thought it was empty but then he realized it was just the dark clothing inside that made it appear so at first glance. He lifted the dark material and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger with a thoughtful consideration. They appeared to be the garments that had been worn during the early morning duel the day before but although it hadn't made sense to Drake that both Davies and his second might have worn the concealing shrouds, now an intriguing idea occurred to him. If Flavian's sister was truly the one in charge of her brother, as her actions at the pub might indicate when she ordered him home, could it be that she was the true talent behind the mask of anonymity as well?

Drake almost found himself chuckling at the idea that such a slip of a woman might manage to deceive so many people—including himself.

Immediately, any humor vanished. He walked over to the Destrier and headed for the Davies cottage he'd glimpsed the night before. He would see what he could uncover there and then he was bound for London.