He glanced at the wall to his right and stilled at the sight of his reflection in an ornate, gold framed mirror. He was grinning like an idiot. Like a lovesick fool. Scowling, he turned away and went in search of something stronger to drink than insipid punch or watered down champagne.
He needed to spend less time trying to make Huntley jealous and concentrate on why he was really in attendance. Olivia had gained him entrance to one of the major events of the season, and he needed to take advantage of the opportunity.
Making his way to the card room, he hoped to find a few pigeons to fleece along with a glass of good brandy. But given the other refreshments being offered, there wasn’t much chance of finding the latter.
Will glanced from the cards he held, to the face of the heavily scrolled pocket watch he’d won in the last hand, to the doorway of the card room. It’d been nearly three hours, and there had been no sign of Olivia. While he hadn’t lost much money, he hadn’t played his best either and blamed her for his distraction. He found himself constantly checking to see if she hovered near the door looking for him.
Perhaps his plan to make his lordship jealous had worked too well. A sudden image of Olivia in Huntley’s arms burned through his mind and knotted his stomach. At that thought, he placed his cards on the table, bid the men around him good night, and headed back to the ballroom.
He passed a closed door from which a man’s voice drifted followed by feminine laughter. Will stopped. Olivia and Huntley? He grasped the doorknob just as Fingers appeared at his side.
“We need ta talk.”
“Meet me in the garden.” Will raised an eyebrow at Fingers’s appearance, dressed in servants’ livery as he was.
A couple entered the hallway, drawing Fingers’s attention. “She’s nae in there,” he said in a low voice as he passed by and continued down the hall.
Will stared after him. How did Fingers know what he was thinking? He supposed it was one of the reasons they worked well together. He nodded at the couple as they walked past, intent on finding a secluded place for a tryst no doubt. It never ceased to surprise him that though the members of the
Ton
thought themselves well above the rest of society, they indulged a good number of lower class vices.
He entered the ballroom, skirted around the clusters of people, and headed for the terrace. He spotted Olivia at the edge of one such group where Lady Riverton held court. She looked tired. He would meet with Fingers then return to take her home.
Slipping through the French doors, he strode down the marble steps leading into the garden. Not wanting to draw undue attention, he walked at a sedate pace along the flagstone path. As he rounded a bend, Fingers stepped out of the shadows, dressed in his usual clothing.
Will scanned the area, while his partner did the same.
“Sandhurst is makin’ plans to move against ye.”
After his brief encounter with the duke earlier in the evening, Will wasn’t surprised by the news. “What did you find out?”
“I saw him with one of Hammond’s men. They looked like they was hagglin’ over somethin’, deal of some sort.”
“Hammond’s men?” Will felt whatever hope he’d harboured in making peace with his former adversary slip away. He would have no choice but to retaliate if the other man moved against him. It seemed a meeting was necessary and quickly. “Go to the Silver Slipper; tell Hammond I want to see him tonight.”
“Ye think he’ll be there?”
“He’ll be there. He visits Belle.”
“I hadna heard Belle was back ta seeing visitors.”
“I have to admit I was surprised, especially her taking up with the likes of Hammond.”
Fingers grinned. “A wee bit of jealousy are ya feeling?”
Will grinned back. “No more than you.”
“Aye,” Fingers agreed. “Belle is a fine woman.”
“For one who runs a whorehouse.”
“Don’na be casting stones, Lazarus. Yer glass house will tumble down around ya.”
Given the changes he’d made lately, he was all too aware of the precarious position between his life of a few months ago and his life now. “Tell Hammond I’ll be there in two hours.”
“And if he willna wait?”
“He will. I have something he wants.”
Chapter Nine
“Be angry with me, but don’t sulk. I realize you would have preferred to have Huntley escort you home.”
Olivia turned away from the window and glared at him. Fire snapped in her blue eyes. The effect was ruined, however, as she grabbed for the hand strap to keep from sliding across the bench seat when the coach careened around a corner.
“Where did you hire your driver?” she asked as she resettled her skirts.
He smothered a grin. “Patrick handles the reins well.”
“For a man bent on killing his passengers,” she muttered.
Though he heard her, he couldn’t resist teasing her. “What did you say?”
“Patrick? Did you say your driver’s name is Patrick?”
“I don’t think that is quite what you said before.”
Olivia stared at him for a moment. “The same boy you ordered to see me home after I came to your place of business?” She sat forward, her arms crossed over her middle. “The same one who you sent to threaten me when I was asking questions about you?”
“I didn’t send him to threaten you. He did that on his own.”
“Why?”
Will shrugged. There was no way he could explain the fierce loyalty he engendered among his men without revealing his past.
“Does he often act without your knowledge?”
Wary now, he sat up from his lounging position across from her. “What are you insinuating?”
“Perhaps Patrick is still acting without your knowledge because he thinks he needs to protect you.”
“What makes you say so?” Had she overheard something she shouldn’t have?
She gave him a pointed look. “His actions.”
He frowned in confusion. Had the boy threatened her again? He’d spoken to the young man, ordered him to watch over her, to keep her from learning too much, but he’d been quite clear that she was no threat to him or any of the others. “What has he done?”
She turned back to the window and gazed out. “He frightens me,” she said in a low voice as though it cost her a great deal to admit such a thing aloud.
“Why?”
It was Olivia’s turn to shrug. “The way he watches me...sometimes...I think he could quite easily kill me and go on about his day without giving me another thought.”
“What?” Will roared as the carriage came to a shuddering stop.
She jumped. “Perhaps it is just my overactive imagination.” She gave him a wan smile. “As evidenced by my actions during the last thunderstorm, we both know I have one.”
The coach door opened, and Patrick stood in the doorway, lowering the steps.
At the sight of him, she shrank back into the corner. Will doubted she was even aware of her actions. She truly was afraid of the tall young man.
“Thank you, Patrick.” He glanced at Olivia as she hunted through her reticule in an obvious attempt to stay in the carriage. “Check on the horses.”
The youth gave him a strange look, then left to do as he was told.
As soon as he was out of sight, Olivia catapulted from her seat and out the door as though her skirts were on fire. By the time Will stepped down from the carriage, she was already moving into the house. She stopped on the threshold and gave him a quick wave before closing the door. Clearly, he wasn’t going to be invited inside. It was just as well. Hammond would wait for only so long.
He returned to his seat in the carriage. “To the Silver Slipper,” he ordered with a quick rap on the ceiling.
“Aye,” Patrick called back and set the horses into motion.
Will tried to focus on the coming meeting with Hammond, but his thoughts kept drifting to Olivia and her fear of Patrick. She wasn’t the sort of woman who was false in her emotions. She was truly afraid of the youth. It seemed a conversation with his young driver was in order.
Twenty minutes later, he stood outside Belle’s establishment. It may have been one of the best whorehouses in London, but one couldn’t tell by looking at it. It looked like any other townhouse one would find on the outskirts of the fashionable area of town. Needing his wits about him for the upcoming meeting, he pushed all thoughts of Olivia from his mind and lifted the brass knocker.
The door opened, and the butler stood there. “The ladies aren’t receiving visitors this evening.”
“Hello, Weatherly. Belle should be expecting me.”
“Ah yes, of course, Lazarus.” The butler stumbled back in his haste to open the door wider. “Come in. Her ladyship and Mr. Hammond are waiting for you in the rose parlour.”
Will removed his coat and hid his grin at the title Weatherly insisted on using when referring to Belle. While she was definitely a woman, she was no lady. No lady did the things she did in bed and enjoyed them with such gusto.
The servant took his coat and handed it off to a footman. “If you will follow me…”
Will walked behind the butler as he led the way to the parlour. Tapping his pocket to ensure the pistol he’d put there earlier was tucked out of sight, he hoped he wouldn’t need it. The last time he and Hammond had met, two men had died, and he had suffered a bullet wound. Though it had brought Olivia into his life, he didn’t want this meeting to have the same outcome.
Weatherly gave a quick rap on the door before opening it. “Lazarus has arrived.” He stepped aside for Will to enter.
Belle rose from a pale pink divan. She stood there for a moment ensuring he saw she had nothing on beneath the filmy black gown she wore, then crossed the room to meet him. “Lazarus. It’s been far too long.” She wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed him. A hungry kiss that promised much more if he wanted it.
Will tore his mouth from hers. “While I appreciate the offer—” He looked at the man lounging in a leather chair in front of the fire. “—I don’t share.”
Belle gave a throaty laugh. “You don’t know what you’re missing.” She slid a hand down the front of his trousers and cupped him. “Perhaps I can persuade you.”
Will removed her hand. “Perhaps not.” Was this part of some plan devised by Hammond? To have Belle distract him? To what end?
“You always were a bit of a prude in the bedchamber, weren’t you?” Belle floated back to the divan.
Hammond rose. Dressed in the height of fashion, he could have easily passed for a member of the
Ton
if one viewed him from the left side. If one viewed him from the right, however, they would see him for the brutal man he was. A scar ran from his eyebrow, across his eye, to end at his lip. “Fingers said ye be wantin’ to do business.” He gave a pointed look at Will’s side. “A bullet puts a bloke in the right frame o’ mind, I always be sayin’.”
“The outcome of our last meeting has nothing to do with this.” Will moved to stand in front of his adversary. “I’ve come with an offer because it is to my benefit, not yours.”
“So ye be sayin’. Don’t mean I be believin’ ya.”
“I find talk of offers and deals to be tediously boring.” Belle moved to the door. “Finish your business quickly, Hammond, or I shall have to find something…or someone…to relieve my boredom.” She dropped the gown from her shoulders, stood there in the nude for a moment, then with a wink over her shoulder, she was gone.
“Say yer piece. I got things to be doin’ and ain’t no one who does it better than Belle.”
Eager to get this over with himself, Will sat in the chair opposite from the one Hammond had vacated. “I understand the Duke of Sandhurst has contracted with you to…shall we say remove me as a source of irritation to him.” He looked at Hammond for some sort of confirmation but received none.
The other man walked to the sideboard and poured a glass of scotch and downed in it one swallow. “And if that be true?”
“I’ve come to persuade you it’s in your best interests to renege on the bargain.”
“Me best interests? I’d be sayin’ it’s in yer best interests.” Hammond refilled the glass. “And I never go back on me word.” He brought the scotch with him as he sprawled in his chair. “Mebbe I be wantin’ to have you ‘removed’ as much as the ole duke.”
“I will relinquish my hold on the east end of the docks, leaving it for you and your men to use as you please.” Will pretended a nonchalance he didn’t feel. He needed to be able to concentrate on Sandhurst without having to worry when Hammond or one of his men would strike and where.
Hammond sat up at the words. “Ye’d give up all claim to it?”
“I would if you agree to break your contract with the duke, which would mean you couldn’t have one of your men carry it out in your place.”
“I’d be havin’ control of it, with no meddlin’ from you?”
“Yes, with one minor condition.”
“O’ course. And what be that?” Hammond asked with a sour twist of his lips.
“My men and I will leave you to run the east end of the docks as you choose, but if you or yours attack me or mine or if you start running whores there, I will take control back in
any
manner required.”
“I’ll be thinkin’ on it. The duke offered a lot o’ blunt to be rid o’ you.” He tossed back the scotch as though it were nothing more than water.
Wanting the matter settled, Will pushed his advantage. He knew how much the other man wanted control of at least part of the waterfront. “You’ll make the decision now, or there will be none to make.”
Hammond watched him, his gaze impenetrable, while he ran a finger up and down his scar. “Wot’s keepin’ me from killin’ ye right now and takin’ over the docks.”
“The same thing that’s keeping me from killing you.” At the inquiring look from the other man, Will continued. “Neither of us wishes to end up swinging from the end of a rope for murder.”
Hammond grinned. “Aye, ye be right about that.”
“Since we both know how trustworthy you are. If you decide to go back on your word to me and I am found dead, my men will ensure you hang for it whether it be at the order of the magistrate or by their hands.”
The grin disappearing from his face, Hammond sat forward. “Ye shouldn’t be threatenin’ a man ye wants to do yer biddin’.”