Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

P en was not going to accept Lord Lordly's cursed five hundred pounds.

No.

Absolutely not.

Never.

There was not a chance she would allow the viscount to insult her honor and Aidan's by accepting his bribery. Aidan was her friend, and she owed him her loyalty. Despite his leather-headed notion they ought to marry, she would never dream of betraying him in such heartless fashion.

That his own brother would was appalling.

Why, suppose Aidan were in love with Pen. Would Lord Lordly truly wish to ruin his brother's future chance at happiness merely because he had deemed Pen unsuitable? Yes, she had no doubt he would. The man was arrogant and infuriating and insulting all at once. Hart ought to have given Lord Lordly a punch in his bread basket for his insults. Pen would have, had he lingered. And if he returned as he had warned, perhaps she would. It would certainly serve him right.

She paced down the length of the private room where she and her siblings—or those of them in residence at the hell these days, a dwindling number thanks to Jasper's marriage and Logan's disappearance—had gathered. Even Rafe was taking refuge in Mayfair for today.

"He can take his coin and shove it up his?—"

"Now, now, Pen," interrupted Hart with a pointed glance in their younger sister Lily's direction. " The child is listening."

"I was going to say nose," she grumbled.

"Cease calling me that," Lily snapped, pinning their brother with an irritated glare. "I haven't been a child in years. I'm old enough to wed."

"No," their other brother Wolf said, "you're not."

"I am a woman, and blast you all for insisting upon treating me as if I were the baby of the family." Lily sniffed.

"You are the bleeding baby of the family, Lil. You're the youngest of us all," Wolf pointed out.

"I'll give any cove sniffing about your skirts the basting of his life," Hart added.

Pen sighed. Their brothers were protective. From their eldest brother, Jasper, to Rafe, and then Hart and Wolf, a Sutton lady could scarcely take a breath about a gentleman without fear her brothers would give him a drubbing and warn him away. Heavens knew Rafe had done so to Aidan. But Aidan was her friend, just as he had always been, even if he had ignored her irate summons in the wake of his older brother's unexpected call. He could not ignore her forever. And besides all that, her brother's concern had been misguided.

Every bit as misguided as Aidan's own brother's was now.

Just thinking of the arrogant lord who had paid an unexpected call upon her the evening before had a queer flare of awareness lighting within her. It was the same feeling she'd had once before, the one she had followed to her detriment. But Daniel had no place in her worries now. He was decidedly in the past, where he belonged, and where he would forever remain.

And the present was laden with problems enough of its own. Old problems could remain where they were, long since buried.

"If the three of you would cease squabbling," she said, turning her attention to her siblings, "perhaps we might discuss the viscount's threat to return this evening."

After his departure the night before, an unexpected melee had occurred in the gaming quarters, spurred by an argument over a mistress between two drunken lords. Mayhem had been narrowly circumvented by Hart expertly calming the soaring tempers. With Hart and Wolf watching the floor closely for the rest of the evening, Pen hadn't had the opportunity to speak with her brothers about Lord Lindsey's unexpected appearance and subsequent attempt to bribe her.

"When do you suppose hisnabs is going to arrive?" Hart asked, stroking his jaw with a contemplative air.

"Five hundred pounds, you say?" Wolf grinned. "I'll be 'appy to accept it for you."

"Will you not take this seriously?" she demanded. "I fear Lord Lindsey will cause problems for The Sinner's Palace if I do not take his bloody coin and do as he has ordered me. He threatened as much last night before leaving."

"Then take the damned coin," Lily suggested. "Lord Aidan is a troublesome cove, and we don't need more than we've already got, what with the Bradleys and the fire."

The Bradley family, owners of a rival gaming hell in the East End, had been causing the devil's own stir. But it had been their eldest brother Jasper who had unwittingly brought more destruction down upon them when the East End property for their new gaming hell had been set aflame by a madwoman from his past.

"There must be a different solution," she said, frowning at her sister.

"You don't want to marry Lord Aidan anyhow," Hart said, agreeing with Lily. "You said as much last night. You may as well take the coin and be richer for all the grief Lord Aidan has caused."

Why did everyone always blame Aidan? He was of an age with Pen, a charming rascal who never failed to make her laugh. The two of them had been unlikely—though fast—friends ever since she had made his acquaintance here at the hell. From their first meeting, Aidan had made a habit of sneaking into the private quarters and regaling her with tales of his antics. He had also indulged the sense of adventure her overbearing brothers had sought to quell.

"While it's true that I am not marrying Lord Aidan, he has not caused any grief," she defended her friend.

His reputation preceded him. For the entirety of their friendship, Pen's family had been warning her away from him and telling her he was a n'er-do-well best ignored. And yet, no one knew him as she did. His mischievous nature had never extended to her.

At least, not until he had announced his intention to marry her, all as a sport to infuriate his family, with whom he was currently displeased. Pen had no wish to be the sword he used to fight them, however.

"Setting his arrogant lordling brother upon us ain't causing grief?" Wolf crossed his arms over his chest, his disdain for the quality showing.

"Aidan hardly asked the viscount to come here and browbeat me." Pen shot her brother a chastising glare. "He would not intentionally do any harm to us or The Sinner's Palace."

"You never did say why the whelp is running about announcing your betrothal." Hart's eyes narrowed. "There ain't a chance of Lindsey or old Dryden allowing their precious blood to mingle with a Sutton's, and the empty-headed shite ought to know it."

"Please stop insulting my friend." It was Pen's turn to cross her arms over her chest.

Perhaps coming to her siblings with this problem had been a mistake. None of them seemed ready to provide a resolution, and instead, Aidan was the recipient of a verbal thrashing. Not that she could entirely blame Hart. Pen herself had been quite outraged when she had realized Aidan had ignored her polite refusal of his suggestion and had taken the nonsensical announcement to his family.

Now she was left to deal with the repercussions.

"He ain't your friend, or he would be here when his dog of a brother turns up snarling, with bared teeth," Wolf said coolly.

While she had not seen or heard from Aidan since she had told him she would not agree to his madcap plan of marriage, that was hardly unusual. Aidan was like the wind. He blew about wherever he wished, and he was often easily distracted by whatever amusements were before him at the moment. He had been rather vexed with her when he had taken his leave as well, and she had supposed he may have been hurt by her refusal.

However, regardless of his feelings, it was apparent he had proceeded with his plan. And despite her wishes to the contrary. Her fondness for Aidan aside, Pen still intended to harangue him when he reappeared for causing her such headaches. Perhaps even box his ears…

"I didn't gather you all so you could insult poor Aidan," she said, despite her own less-than-generous thoughts concerning him. "I wanted your opinions on what I should do about his brother, should he return this evening."

"We already told you," Wolf said, shaking his head as if she were a lost cause. "Take the coin and forget about the cove."

"Less trouble is what we need," Hart added.

"Especially after the fire," offered Lily.

Pen sighed. This was not the advice she had wished to hear. It was, however, what she had feared. "Very well. I shall see to his high and mighty lordship myself when he returns."

"That one's starched," Wolf observed. "Don't think you'll need much help from us. But we'll be about, and so will the lads."

By the lads, he meant the many hulking guards The Sinner's Palace employed for the protection of not just their patrons, but the Sutton family themselves. Those men were as trusted as family members and hardly what one would think of as lads.

"Take the coin," Hart added grimly, "and do what's best for us all."

A sigh of disappointment escaped Pen, for accepting Lord Lordly's bribe was not at all what she wished to do. There had to be another way to appease him. Or to persuade him she had no desire to marry his brother.

Or merely to chase him away so that he might never return.

Chasing him away? Ah, yes. There was the better choice. Perhaps the sole one.

All she required was a plan.

His eagerness to be rid of the dreadful Miss Penelope Sutton drove Garrick to The Sinner's Palace earlier than he had planned. That, and his mother having requested an audience with him. Rather than listen to Mama prattle on about Lady Hester's reputation and suitability as the future Duchess of Dryden, he had sent her a note explaining he would be settling the matter of her youngest son's regrettable decision to attempt to shackle himself to a beautiful fortune-hunting harlot.

In so many words.

Naturally, Garrick had employed no small amount of tact in his reply. His reputation for being society's most proper gentleman had not been earned through mere gossip. He did his utmost to be the embodiment of propriety and well-bred manners. Which meant that he refrained from referring to Miss Sutton as beautiful, and he avoided calling her a harlot.

As his conveyance pulled to a halt at the rear of The Sinner's Palace, Garrick adjusted the fit of his gloves and the tilt of his hat before smoothing a slight wrinkle from his great coat. Perfection pleased him. Anything less was cause for not just dismay, but aggravation.

Garrick disliked aggravation immensely.

It made his eye twitch.

In his customary habit, he tugged at his left coat sleeve first and then his right coat sleeve before disembarking. There were two massive fellows flanking the private entrance to the Sutton family gaming hell today. The air was cold with the portent of rain. In addition to aggravation, Garrick also found most precipitation grievously displeasing. Snow, on occasion, was acceptable enough. But only in moderate amounts in the country, and for approximately ten minutes.

He approached the guards, deciding to pretend as if they were footmen rather than hulking East End scoundrels. Doing so certainly lent a less distasteful air to this entire sordid affair. "Viscount Lindsey to see Miss Sutton."

"Which Miss Sutton is it?" asked the man on the right, looking distinctly unimpressed.

There was more than one? Christ.

"Miss Penelope Sutton," he elaborated, stifling a sigh of irritation. "She will be expecting me."

"She ain't 'ere," said the fellow on the left, crossing his arms over his chest.

This was an unexpected development. And a vexing one at that.

He frowned, for he was early, it was true. But curse the woman, he had warned her he would return. "Where has she gone?"

"Don't know." The man made a snorting sound, as if he were inhaling something unsavory.

Perhaps snot.

Garrick took a step in retreat, hoping the giant in question did not have anything that was catching. "Did Miss Sutton say when she might be returning?"

The man took his time responding, making a wretched sound deep in his throat that must have somehow been related to the snot. "No."

Garrick waited for one of the pair to offer something more. Instead, they simply remained firm in their stances and stony-eyed silence. Did they not know who he was?

"Perhaps you have never heard my name," he said, though the admission was irritating indeed. "I am the heir to the Duke of Dryden. My good opinion is quite highly regarded in the ton ."

The man on the right shrugged.

The man on the left remained as still as a marble bust.

Where the devil was the lad whose palms he had greased the day before? Finding his way into the inner sanctum of The Sinner's Palace had proven much easier yesterday.

He looked from one unimpressed guard to the other. Neither man blinked or moved.

He cleared his throat and tried again. "I will await Miss Sutton's return."

"Don't think Miss Sutton'd like that, milord," said the one on the right.

Perhaps not.

He smiled for the first time since his arrival in this godforsaken place. "Whether or not Miss Sutton likes it is immaterial."

"Entrance for the nobs is in front," added the guard with the apparent nasal problem, making another snorting sound, as if to punctuate his instruction.

It was utterly impossible to fathom why this dung pile was so cursed popular with all the dandies, fops, and bucks. Gambling and drink would blind a man to anything, he supposed. Fortunately, Garrick had never found himself afflicted with either sin.

"I have come specifically to speak with Miss Sutton," he countered calmly. "I have no desire to wait about in a gaming hall."

"As you like, milord." The guard on the right offered a shrug.

They truly intended to deny him entrance?

His nostrils flared. This was outrageous. An egregious affront.

Miss Sutton was going to pay dearly for this most recent slight.

"Perhaps I can offer the two of you some remuneration in return for your reconsideration," he suggested through gritted teeth.

"Suttons pay well enough," said the man on the left.

"Our loyalty is to them," added the man on the right.

"Then if one of you could be kind enough to inquire within as to whether or not Miss Sutton has returned?" he tried next, his patience waning.

He was beginning to suspect this entire tableau had been orchestrated by his brother's fortune-seeking betrothed. Was the minx truly wily enough?

"Would you be wanting to go inside and inquire, Randall?" the one on the left asked the other.

"Don't think so," said the right guard. Randall, apparently. "Why don't you?"

"Don't want to," said the other.

This was all Aidan's fault. Him and his stupidity, following his blind lust all the way to this stew. Mother's frantic words returned to him as he waited. It will be the mésalliance of the century, Lindsey. We shall be the laughingstock of society.

Yes, yes, he had to put an end to this damned farce.

Today.

He straightened his shoulders and pinned the guards with his most contemptuous glare. "I demand you to allow me entrance. You cannot expect me to wait about in the street. I refuse to accept such an insult."

Before either of the men could answer, the door they were so assiduously guarding opened to reveal none other than Miss Penelope Sutton. And she was grinning, damn her, as if she had been witnessing this entire affair with glee.

She probably had.

"Lord Lordly," she greeted him with insolence, confirming his suspicion. "What brings you to The Sinner's Palace?"

His lip curled, but he did not bother to correct her, though her obfuscation of his title was infuriating. "You know the reason, Miss Sutton."

"I am afraid I am in the midst of some pressing business," she said blithely, "but you may await me in the parlor."

Parlor.

Of course they would have a parlor in a wretched little heap like this, rather than a drawing room. What had he expected? Still, the prospect of awaiting her in some dingy little box as he had done the night before set his teeth on edge.

"I have already wasted a considerable amount of my time here at this door," he pointed out, sending a pointed glare in the direction of her guards for good measure.

"Hugh and Randall, please see his lordship settled in the parlor," she directed the guards as if he had not just offered his objection to her plan. "I will be with you as soon as I am able."

Before he could offer protest, Miss Sutton turned and disappeared.

The woman grew more outrageous, more utterly insulting and infuriating by the moment. It was more than clear to him that she was playing a game she believed she would emerge from as the victor.

Ha!

She had never met anyone as determined as he. Garrick would be willing to wager his very life upon it.