Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

S puttering as they resurfaced a brief distance away, Drake looked at Devon. "Are you hurt?"

It took a moment for the younger man to respond. "No. At least, I don't think so."

That was good enough for Drake. It would take a moment for the shock to fully wear off. Drake was feeling some of the stunning effects from the explosion himself.

He glanced back at the wood that was steadily sending flames shooting high into the sky. He could hear people shouting and chaos starting to ensue, and he decided it was time to go.

Turning to Devon, he said, "I have a house not far from here. But we need to swim and keep a low profile. It will help us if there is a question of whether or not we survived the blast."

Devon nodded and together they made their way down the river. Thankfully, they were going with the current, so they didn't have to exert as much energy. Drake wanted to conserve the strength he had to pay another visit to Avalon.

He wondered about Fleur and how she must be pacing the floor of their chamber with worry. He'd said he would return and he had yet to keep his promise. But so long as his luck continued to hold out, he would.

As Drake gave the signal, Devon followed him toward the bank where they climbed onto grassy knoll. Taking a moment to catch their breath, Drake led the way a short distance to another lodging house. He didn't have a key with him but he knew how to pick a lock.

Once they were inside, he walked toward the corner of the main living area where he proceeded to pry up a few loose boards and withdraw two brown wrapped parcels. He tossed one to Devon. "I don't know that it will be a perfect fit but at least they will be dry."

As Devon inclined his head and moved into another part of the dwelling to change, Drake made short work of his sodden clothes. He was grateful that he'd secured provisions all over town in case he needed a quick fix. There was even needle and thread and a bottle of scotch if he needed to make a hasty stitch. He didn't think Devon required anything of the sort. His abrasions looked rather shallow.

He waited for Devon to return. When he did, Drake lifted a brow. Although the trousers fit snugly, they didn't appear to be bursting at the seams. The same for the shirt and jacket. The same couldn't be said if he had just left the river with Amos. He would have been standing there in useless rags.

Knowing time was of the upmost importance, Drake said, "Might you tell me what you were doing in that warehouse?"

Devon scrubbed a hand down his face. "I honestly have no idea. I was leaving the Ten Bells last night and I was ambushed from behind. The next thing I know I woke up in that damned warehouse."

Drake frowned. "Did you know who those men were today?"

"No. Which makes it even more strange why they would target me."

Taking a moment to consider this information, Drake returned slowly, "Unless they weren't after you. It could be that they meant to get to Amos through you."

"My father might have enemies, but I don't see anyone going to these lengths to do it. There is some money involved here, whereas that is in short supply in the East End."

"Yes," Drake murmured. "I do. I will have to discuss this with Amos when I return to Chelsea. I would suggest that you join me and relay this same information to your father."

The younger man nodded.

Drake gathered the pistol and another knife that he tucked into his other boot, and together they walked out the door.

As they did so, Drake spied a cloaked figure rushing along on the other side of the street. He might not have given it much thought, except his instincts had been on high alert for several days, ever since the fire that had destroyed a former residence.

Seconds later, he was grateful he had listened to that inner voice of warning. "Get down!" he shouted to Devon as they dove for cover, just as an iron ball was launched at the house he'd just vacated. It shattered against the side of the building and exploded into sharp fragments that hurled through the air, narrowly missing each of them with the deadly blasts. The structure wasn't so fortunate. The thatched roof caught fire from the sparks that had landed on top and started to burst into flame.

By the time Drake searched for the menacing figure, they were swallowed up by the crowd that had started to gather around the chaos.

"Damnation," Drake muttered under his breath as he helped Devon to his feet and they took off down the street. Hailing down the first hackney they saw, they climbed inside and Drake gave them the direction of the townhouse on Chelsea. As the sounds of bells could be heard clanging from the water trucks rushing to extinguish the fire, Drake leaned his head back against the squabs as they headed in the opposite direction. "At least now I know how the original fire was started." He stared at the roof of the carriage with a frown. "It appears that the person who retains a grudge against me is a bloody grenadier."

He searched his memory for anyone who might fit that description but came up with nothing. He had never purposefully attacked soldiers because they were the lifeblood of the country. Noblemen were another thing entirely. They were entitled men who hadn't learned the benefit of true sacrifice.

Nevertheless, there was a reason he was being targeted now and he had to know why that was.

As the hackney stopped in front of the townhouse, he climbed out of the carriage. Devon followed close behind, and after a thorough look around the street, Drake walked inside.

* * *

Fleur froze at the sight of several men surrounding her with pistols drawn and pointed directly at her.

"Are you quite sure you don't need my protection, Miss Davies?" Avalon's smooth voice slid down her spine as he walked into her line of vision. "Don't be foolish. If you want to save your brother, all you have to do is agree to be mine." She opened her mouth, but he shook his head. "Why me? Is that what you were going to say?" He grinned broadly but it wasn't the sort of smile that encouraged her or set her at ease. It was the sort that warned her to stay away, that this man was dangerous. "Allow me to answer that for you."

He circled her as the guns around them were slowly lowered. "I have something of a grudge against Mr. Porter. You see, he took something quite dear from me and I have never forgotten the slight." He stopped in front of her. "Did he tell you the sorrowful tale of a woman named Elina Waters?" She must have paled because he nodded. "Ah. I can see he did. I'm sure he made it sound as though she was the worst person to walk the earth, but the truth was, I was in love with her and he charmed her away from me. I was crushed, heartbroken, but I decided all would be well so long as he could make her happy. But that's not what happened. He used her ill and when he came to his senses, it was too late. She came to me for assistance, and I vowed that I would do whatever was necessary to protect her. I ordered Porter's demise but decided I didn't need a death on my conscience, so I changed it to a thorough thrashing. As you can see, I kept my word and he survived."

There was a question that had been burning through Fleur's heart since Drake had first mentioned his previous paramour. "What happened to her?"

Avalon's mouth turned down at the corners. "I fear that her tale of woe isn't quite finished. After she had what she wanted from me, she moved on to other protectors who promised more and more, until finally, she came to me, disease ridden and desperate for money." His lips twisted with disgust. "She begged me to take her back, but I refused. She left, and for years she was lost to the London underground, the worst parts that most criminals won't dare to go. I felt a temporary twinge of guilt, but it was soon extinguished when I learned that she had allowed herself to become nothing but a common whore. She was intelligent. She had the ability to be anything that she wanted, but she squandered it all on meaningless tups for pence in dingy alleyways."

Feeling a bit of her bravado returning, Fleur stated, "You sound bitter toward her . Why punish Drake?"

His dark eyes flashed, the only indication that he was disturbed. "Because he was the one who took her from me in the beginning."

"Now you want to do the same to him?"

He shrugged. "It seems fair."

"Does it?" Fleur countered. He tilted his head to the side, as if curious to her reasoning. She took a deep breath and continued, "Two wrongs seldom make something right. You can't change the past, but you have the ability to redirect the future. Instead of being at odds over something that happened years ago, help me find my brother."

His gaze shuttered. "What of Porter?"

"Something tells me he won't be gone for long."

Avalon snorted. "You may be right about that." He looked at her hard and her heart pounded in her chest while she waited for him to speak.

"Bring Reynolds to me." He tossed the command over his shoulder.

One of the men stepped forward and whispered something in Avalon's ear. Fleur watched as his expression turned dark. "I see." There was something quite menacing in those two words. To her, he murmured, "Miss Davies, I am feeling charitable at the moment, and you can thank your courage for that. You have a wisdom beyond your years." He turned and addressed another gentleman standing nearby. "See that Miss Davies is returned to Chelsea unharmed." The man inclined his head.

Before they left, she asked, "What of Amos? What have you done with him?"

Avalon peered at her, some of his earlier demeanor returning. "I prefer to keep him in my company for now."

She wanted to argue for his release but she decided that she was being allowed to walk out the door so she shouldn't press her luck until she had the proper reinforcements. "I'll return for him. And my brother as well."

To her surprise, instead of seeming irate, the lines around Avalon's eyes crinkled with a modicum of respect. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you." He straightened and then offered her a bow that would make anyone in the nobility proud. "Until we meet again, Miss Davies."

Fleur could feel his dark eyes boring into her as she headed for the door. Although Fleur was anxious about traveling alone with one of the Blue Boys seated across from her, she realized that she was no longer afraid of Avalon nor the men who chose to follow under his leadership. She had never really felt threatened by him, that was all from Drake, but now she understood why there was such tension between them.

To say that she needed to have a long talk with Drake was an understatement. They had much to discuss, including the supposed deal he'd made with Harriette, but that would all be later, after she had discovered what had happened to her brother. She wished she'd paid a call on the courtesan as soon as she'd heard about that dreadful card game. She should have known that something terrible would befall him. They were the same age but Flavian was still very na?ve in many ways.

As the hired hackney stopped in front of Drake's residence, she stepped to the ground. The moment she did so, the door flew open and Drake came rushing down the front steps. "Where the devil have you—" He stopped when he saw the man in the carriage before it headed back down the street. His dark expression pinned her in place. "You went to see Avalon."

It wasn't a question so much as an accusation. "I did, because you hadn't returned and I had grown concerned. Amos accompanied me but he is currently being held under Avalon's protection." She turned on him in the midst of the early morning street. "What I want to know is what happened to you ?"

He offered her a stern expression. "Why don't we discuss this inside?"

She headed up the steps and entered the main foyer to see Amos's son, Devon, standing there. "Oh, dear."

"Indeed," Drake intoned. Addressing Devon, he said, "Make yourself comfortable in the parlor. I need to speak with Fleur in private."

* * *

Leading the way down the hall to his study, Drake attempted to steady the pounding of his heart. It was all he could do not to drag Fleur into his arms and kiss her senseless. When he'd arrived home and found her gone, he'd immediately felt sick to his stomach. He had been about to head back out and tear London apart when he'd overheard the arrival of the carriage. Relief had immediately flooded through him. He'd lost so much already he wasn't sure he could stand to lose her too. He yearned to show her how much she meant to him, but at the moment he required answers in order to solve this mystery.

However, the moment he shut the door behind them, he found that the scent of her feminine allure was too much to ignore. Pulling her to him, he set his hands on her face and pressed his mouth to hers. Initially, there was a stiff set to her shoulders, but it relaxed as he continued the onslaught. She gave a breathless moan that shot straight to his groin. He wanted to lay her down and lose himself in her wet heat but he reminded himself that there was still the problem of her missing brother.

"As much as I would like to see this moment until its glorious completion, we have things to do."

She blinked when he pulled away, as if just now remembering the same. "Avalon told me about Elina. I daresay his version of events differs remarkably from yours."

He stilled. He could tell she hadn't meant to speak so boldly but now that they were floating in the air between them, he knew he had to clear the air or that mutinous look on her face might never subside. "He never knew when to keep his mouth shut."

"Is it true? Was he her lover first?"

He shoved a hand through his hair and although he wanted a brandy to ease his mind for this conversation, he refrained, knowing that he needed a clear head more than anything else. "Yes." When she had a horrified look on her face, he added, "You know I wasn't a gentleman. But she told me she was finished with him."

"Apparently, he didn't know the same." She looked as if she might be ill. She put a hand to her stomach and he realized he'd never wanted to alter the past so much as he did in that moment. But he couldn't go back and change anything. It was done. The best he could do was try to repair the present to have any sort of hope for a future.

With Fleur.

The desire to have her by his side for the rest of his days abruptly struck him as sharply as an arrow to the chest. He wouldn't have been surprised to see the cherubic Cupid floating overhead right then with a smug expression on the bastard's face. It was just what he deserved after years of discontent. He had never felt the sort of burning emotion toward Elina that pulsed through his chest when Fleur was near. Sadly, Elina hadn't been the love of his life as he'd imagined. Her allure was because she was aligned to the man he had deemed his enemy. It had taken him all these years to discover the truth but only because what he felt for Fleur couldn't be anything but all-consuming passionate love.

"What about your agreement with Harriette? Why did you hide that from me?"

Drake's jaw clenched. "How did you find out about that?"

She gave a harsh snort. "My God, I am starting to wonder if I know you at all. I can't believe you would continue to be in league with that woman after what she did to me!"

"It was to keep you safe!" Drake had a moment's panic when he thought Fleur was starting to pull away from him. He moved forward and held on to her upper arms with an urgency he had never allowed before. He had pushed aside any weakness when he'd been a child, telling himself that he would never let that frightened side of him ever resurface. But it did then. "I despise her for that blasted auction but I can't say I regret the outcome. I would give up everything I have to do it all again."

The flat look in her gaze tore through his chest. "I'm not sure I would." She pulled away from him and walked a few paces away.

Drake's arms stayed suspended in midair until he slowly let them drop to his sides. Her words stung but he couldn't say he faulted her for her honesty. No doubt she would have rather found another way to resolve her brother's debt. If it wasn't for Drake, she would have never found herself in this predicament to begin with. He'd never hated himself more than he did in that moment because he realized that, as his heart had finally started to feel something other than bitterness, hers was turning in the opposite direction. He had hoped they might be able to move forward, put this nastiness behind them once her brother was found, but he decided he would release her from his protection. The only way he could hope to earn her love was to set her free.

Putting any further intimacy behind them, he moved behind his desk and sat down. He withdrew a map of London and decided that the best thing to do was to pinpoint any of the places that Flavian might have gone. Or been taken. If Reynolds had decided to do away with Drake, he could have done the same for Fleur's brother. The key to it all was whoever wished Drake harm. It seemed that they were also protecting Flavian.

"I discovered something today after I managed to free myself?—"

Her mouth fell open slightly. "You were kidnapped?"

" Seized ," he corrected. "But since it's nothing I haven't faced before; I was able to escape. The odd thing is that we must have been followed, because when Devon and I went to one of my other lodging houses to change, there was a cloaked figure across the street when we left. He threw a firebomb at us that set the house ablaze. I believe that my attempted murderer is a grenadier."

"Dear God," she breathed, her face turning white. "You could have been killed."

"Indeed." He made sure his tone was even, without emotion. "It wouldn't be the first time someone has attempted to end my life." He cleared his throat and switched topics. "Something tells me that the incident today, as well as your brother's disappearance might be connected. Do you know of anyone else that Flavian might trust other than you?"

She exhaled heavily. "I'm not sure. I can't think of anyone?—"

He frowned when she abruptly broke off the rest of her statement. "What is it?"

She shook her head. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"When you believe that, it is usually quite the opposite."

She put a hand to her forehead, as if the possibility rushing through her mind couldn't have any merit. "If he could have managed to get there, he might have called upon Daniel, the stablemaster at the Coach & Horses in Greenwich."

Drake admitted that he hadn't considered the possibility that Flavian might have returned to the original scene of the incident that had started this domino effect of events.

"I'm afraid that's not all." As he returned his focus to Fleur, she had an expression of dread on her face that didn't bode well. "He is so good with horses because he was a former grenadier in the war."

His neck started to prickle with unease. "Do you recall his last name?"

She nodded, appearing perplexed. "Reynolds."