Authors: Laura Landon
“You have sisters?”
“Three.”
“Brothers?”
“Unfortunately, no. I had to battle my three older sisters on my own.”
Winnie was intrigued with Nick Stillman’s story, and his willingness to share it. “Why did you leave Penrith? Weren’t you content living there?”
“Perhaps I would have been, if I’d never come to London. But once I came,” he said, “I found it impossible to leave.” He lowered his gaze and looked at her with an intense look in his eyes. “What about you, my lady? Do you enjoy London?”
“How can one not enjoy all the opportunities here? The opera, the theater, the balls, and musicals. There is never a lack of entertainment.”
“I understand that your mother enjoyed life in London as well. That she was quite an influential member of the
ton.
”
Winnie’s breath caught. Nick Stillman’s reference to her mother was like a splash of cold water on what had been until now a friendly and enjoyable conversation.
“Yes, she was. She was exceedingly fond of life in London.”
“I imagine she dearly misses being here for your Season, as well as your sister’s,” he said more as a statement than a question.
Tiny pinpricks of unease stabbed at her nerves. “You speak of my mother as if she’s still alive, Mr. Stillman. Yet, you were with us when we discovered what she’d done. You read her note. Saw her cloak.”
The hesitation before he answered left no doubt as to what his true thoughts were. “Yes, I did,” he said, but the tone of his voice spoke as to the disbelief of what everyone else had accepted as fact.
How could she have forgotten the threat he presented? How could she not have remembered the final words he’d spoken to her when they’d last seen each other?
“What have you done with her, Lady Winnifred? Where have you hidden your mother?”
Somehow he knew. Somehow he realized that the Duchess of Townsend wasn’t dead. He obviously didn’t have any proof or he would be doing more than just insinuating that he believed her mother was still alive.
She never should have come out here with him. She should never have allowed her attraction to cloud her judgement. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, glaring at him with eyes she prayed showed her anger, and not her fear. “We should return now. We’ve been out here long enough. Our absence will be noticed.”
She took her first step away from him, but halted when his arm shot out to stop her.
“How long do you think you can keep her hidden?”
There was a threatening tone to his voice, a menacing suggestion in his words that sent shivers racing down her spine. “I don’t know why you think my mother is still alive,” she said in an attempt to convince him he was wrong.
“Would you like to know the many reasons I believe so? Such as, no body has ever been discovered? Or, how every clue to indicate your mother had taken her own life was so very conveniently placed where we would find it?”
Her breath caught in her throat. “I’d like to go inside now.”
“What if your mother manages to escape from where you’ve put her? How long do you think it will take her to make her way to London?”
Winnie felt the blood drain from her face. There was always a possibility that her mother could escape from Saint Christina’s, even though the sisters assured her that they were taking special care to make sure that couldn’t happen.
“How long do you think it will take before she manages to do something similar to what she did before? Only worse?”
“Enough!” she said with as much force as she could. But what if he was right? What if her mother overpowered one of the sisters and managed to escape? What if she made her way to London? How could they explain that the Duchess of Townsend had miraculously returned from the dead? Her father wouldn’t hesitate to have her arrested for murder, and if he didn’t, Mack Wallace and Nick Stillman would. How would her family survive the scandal? How would Anne survive losing the love of her life?
Winnie reached out against the cement railing to steady herself. She had to make sure her mother could never escape from Saint Christina’s. She’d send a message to the sisters first thing in the morning, demanding that they hire several men whose sole purpose it was to guard the patient known as Agatha Filbert. She’d insist that they hire the best people available, no matter the cost.
That meant she’d have to visit
The Dove
again to get the money she needed, not only the money she needed to pay the blackmailer, but now enough to pay guards.
She lifted her hand and placed her fingers against her temple. Her head pounded. She needed to get away from Nick Stillman. He could ruin everything.
Winnie took a step away from him, only to realize that he had his hand on her arm and was holding her steady.
“Are you all right?”
There was a tinge of alarm in his voice. A frown covered his forehead, and when he looked at her, his eyes contained a hint of concern.
“How could I be all right,” she answered. “Do you think I enjoy talking about my mother like this? It has only been a year since she’s been gone.”
“My apologies, my lady. Tonight was neither the time nor here the place to bring up such a topic.”
“There will never be an appropriate time or place to bring up something so unpleasant.”
“Again, my apologies.”
Winnie turned to leave, but his words had unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. She felt light-headed and she stumbled when she took her first step.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her for a moment. She refused to allow him to affect her in any way. She refused to consider him in any regard except for the threat that he was—to her and her family. She needed to stay as far away from him as possible.
She allowed him to escort her back inside the ballroom, and headed for her family. Thankfully, when inside, Viscount Rummery motioned that he needed to speak with his nephew, and Nick Stillman excused himself.
“My lady,” he said, turning away from them. But the focused expression on his face made it obvious that he didn’t consider the topic of her mother closed.
“Mr. Stillman.”
Winnie watched him walk away from her, then turned to her family when she heard her father’s voice.
“I’m glad you’ve returned, Winnifred,” her father said. “Ben and Rachael were just about to leave.”
Winnie turned to Ben. “Would you mind taking me home?”
“Of course not.”
“Are you sure you want to leave already?” her father asked. “The night’s still young.”
Winnie smiled at the happy picture of her sister and the Earl of Montroy taking circles on the dance floor. “For Anne, yes. But I’m quite tired, and feel the beginning of a headache coming on. You stay with Anne, Father. Let her enjoy her evening.”
“As if I had a choice,” he said. “I’m sure she’d be quite put out with me if I even suggested we leave already.” He looked at Winnie and a frown creased his forehead. “Are you all right?” he asked. “You look a little pale.”
“I’m just overly tired. I’ll be fine once I lie down. Tilly will take good care of me. I’ll be asleep long before Anne allows you to drag her home.”
The Duke of Townsend laughed. “I may never be the same after this Season,” he said, feigning fatigue. “Promise you won’t lead me on such a merry chase when you’ve found the man of your dreams, daughter.”
“Oh, that’s one promise I can make and keep,” Winnie said.
There wasn’t a chance that she’d find the man of her dreams. Not with the secrets she was keeping.
. . .
Winnie donned her mask and exited the carriage when Hodgekens lowered the step.
“Are you sure you want to risk coming again tonight, my lady?” he said, escorting her to the door of
The Dove
.
“I don’t have a choice, Hodgekens. I’ll need more money if I intend to hire suitable guards for Mother. You and Tilly agreed that was what I needed to do.”
“Yes, but you also need to be well rested if you intend to keep your wits about you. If you remember, that was the first rule I taught you all those years ago. Only play when your mind is sharp. You’ve gone more than two nights now with almost no sleep. You’ll be lucky if you can keep your eyes open, let alone make smart wagers.”
“I’ll be fine, Hodgekens. I don’t intend to stay long. Just long enough to win the money I need.”
“What if you have to play against the same players as last night?”
“The chances are slim that will happen,” she answered hopefully.
“Let’s hope not. You can’t afford to lose.”
“I won’t lose,” Winnie said, with more confidence than she felt.
“Promise me that you’ll leave the minute you think that things aren’t going well,” Hodgekens said. “That’s the second rule I taught you.”
“I promise,” Winnie said, praying she’d be sharp enough tonight that she wouldn’t have to remember Hodgekens’ second rule.
Nick entered
The Dove
and searched the crowded tables for Lady Winnifred. Somehow, he knew she’d be here. Although he wasn’t sure why it was necessary for her to come.
He thought of every possibility. Perhaps risking her father’s money was exciting to her, although he doubted that could be the reason. In fact, he’d wager every pound he possessed that His Grace had no idea that his daughter had ever visited a gaming hell. Especially one with
The Soiled Dove’s
reputation.
Another possibility was that the lady had an addiction to gambling. Perhaps she had the same obsession as several men he knew. The same as the addiction some had to opiates. Although that seemed unlikely. If he was any judge of character, the lady in question seemed more level headed, and more in control of her actions than to allow gaming to take control of her life. Being a compulsive gambler didn’t seem like a weakness she would allow.
The next possibility was the most likely as far as Nick was concerned. Lady Winnifred was desperate for funds. He wasn’t sure whether she needed funds to provide for her mother’s confinement, or funds to pay the staff that cared for her, but if she had indeed found someplace to hide her mother, she’d need money to pay them. Because if there was one fact of which he was certain, it was that the Duchess of Townsend was not dead, but was alive and living in a remote area of England.
He’d seen the panicked expression on Lady Winnifred’s face when he’d mentioned her mother. He saw that expression intensify when he asked what she’d do if her mother escaped from where she was being kept. That possibility had terrified her. As well it should. The Duchess of Townsend was a cold blooded murderer. She was a threat to more than just her family.
Nick scanned the area again as he searched for a masked female with hair a dark, rich brown, and streaks of auburn running through it. A female who had skin the same healthy bronze as her father’s. And eyes so dark they reminded him of rich drops of chocolate.
He wound his way through the crowded Blue Room, going from one table to the next, taking a special look at anyone who remotely matched her features.
He knew the minute he found her. He didn’t move, but he didn’t have to. She lifted her gaze as if someone had whispered that he was there.
Her gaze locked with his, then her eyes widened, and he knew the second she recognized him.
Of course, she didn’t know who he was. The mask prevented that, but she recognized him from the night before, and realized the threat he presented if he sat down to play against her.
The table where she sat was filled with players, and even though the man opposite her vacated his seat while Nick watched, he didn’t take the man’s place. He stood out of the way and observed. He didn’t want to distract her. He only wanted to make certain she could handle herself. She’d been visibly shaken when he left her earlier. But she appeared as if she’d recovered.
She appeared as confident as she had the night before, and had once again assumed the role of the
Ice Lady
.
The hands were dealt and the players placed their bets. Lady Winnifred won the first two hands easily. And the third.
She lost the fourth, but the player sitting to her right was dealt a face card and an ace. There was no strategy that could have changed that outcome.
That’s when Nick noticed a change in the lady’s motions. In her alertness. In her attentiveness.
Her movements seemed to slow, as if there were weights attached to her arms, to her hands, to her fingers. She hesitated before placing her bets, something she hadn’t done even once last night when playing against him. Her eyes stared sightlessly at the cards in her hands as if she couldn’t quite focus on them. And she lost the hand.
Then she lost the next.
A voice inside his head screamed for her to throw down her cards and walk away. She obviously wasn’t as alert as she needed to be. Obviously, something was distracting her, and Nick was sure he knew what that was. No doubt it had something to do with the conversation they’d had earlier. Or the lateness of the hour. Or perhaps the number of late nights she’d put in trying to win the money she needed to pay for her mother’s keep.
He studied her more closely. She looked like she was nearing exhaustion. As if she could barely keep her eyes open.
Nick wanted to step next to her and suggest that she quit. He wanted to tell her to fold and go home. But he knew telling her what to do would only ensure that she did the opposite.
He looked at the few chips in front of her. If she played the next hand and she had to match a raised bid, she’d lose more than she had. She’d be forced to get more money to cover her losses—if she had the money. Or she’d have to go to her father—which Nick knew she wouldn’t do. Then she’d be left with no choice but to go to the third floor and be part of the auction.
She didn’t quit. She played the next hand and lost. Then she won a hand which added to her chips, but she lost the next two.
The pile of chips in front of her dwindled to almost nothing, and Nick felt the first wave of alarm.
‘Quit!’
a voice yelled from inside him. But she didn’t.
Like most gamers, she played as if the next hand she was dealt would be a winning hand. Except Nick knew it wouldn’t. She wasn’t playing smart. She’d already made several noticeable mistakes. Mistakes only a novice player would make.
‘Quit!’
the voice yelled again, and Nick had to restrain himself from stepping up to her and physically removing her from the table.
His heart raced in his chest. Terror at the helplessness he felt consumed him. He was watching the lady sprint toward destruction and wasn’t able to stop her.
Nick took a step toward her. He had to stop her before it was too late. He wouldn’t allow another innocent female to suffer that humiliation.
But as he imagined himself reaching out to halt her from playing the next hand, she placed her cards down in the center of the table, indicating that she was done for the night. That she no longer wished to play.
The relief he felt was indescribable. But as he watched her rise from her chair and walk away from him, the emotion raging inside him changed from relief to anger. Then to fury.
Didn’t she realize how close she’d come to losing everything? Everything, including her virtue?
She retreated from the room and he followed her. She’d almost had to forfeit everything she held dear. Just like his cousin’s friend Jenny had had to forfeit everything. And when she couldn’t live with the disgrace of what she’d done, she’d taken her own life.
Jenny Belden’s bruised and broken body flashed before him. He’d been the one who’d gone to the docks to identify her. He’d been the one who’d had to tell Jenny’s parents that their daughter was dead. Because of what a night of reckless gaming had done. Because of what she’d had to do to pay her debts.
Nick slapped his fist again his thigh. He’d never allow
The Soiled Dove
to take another innocent female’s life.
The closer she got to the door, the angrier he became. The more he increased the length of his strides to reach her. He refused to allow her to get away from him. He refused to let her leave without making sure she knew exactly the risks she’d taken.
She exited through the door at the front of the Blue Room, then stepped out into the alley. He exited behind her.
Her carriage waited for her. Not a Townsend gilt-laden carriage, but an unmarked carriage. The driver hopped down and rushed to open the door.
Nick followed so closely, he almost reached the carriage ahead of her.
The driver had just handed his mistress inside when Nick stepped up to him. Nick recognized the driver as a man named Hodgekens, and he slipped his mask partially aside to reveal his identity to the man. “I’ll have a word with your mistress, Hodgekens,” he said in a tone that left no room for argument. “I intend no harm.”
Hodgekens stepped back and Nick climbed into the carriage, then turned back to the driver. “Take us away from here, Hodgekens,” he ordered, then shut the door behind him and slid into the seat opposite her.
She squeaked a little cry of surprise, then reached for her reticule and worked to open it.
Nick placed his hand over hers and felt the small pistol beneath his fingers. He pulled the reticule out of her grasp and threw it on the seat beside him. “You don’t need that.”
“What do you want?” she asked, pressing her back against the rich velvet squabs.
Nick took a deep breath, trying to control his temper. Trying to calm his fury before he spoke. “We need to talk,” he said as the carriage lurched forward.
“Get out!”
“Since the carriage is moving, that’s hardly possible. So you’re going to have to sit where you are and listen to me.” He leaned forward and glared at her. “What the bloody hell were you trying to do in there?”
She didn’t answer, but glared at him. When she spoke, there was a different fear in her voice. “It’s you,” she said as if just realizing who he was. “You’re the man I played against last night.”
“Yes, it’s me. And unlike last night, tonight you played like a bloody beginner.”
“How dare you!”
“I dare, my lady, because you know the first rule of
The Soiled Dove
. No unpaid debts. No vowels. No credit!”
“I know that!”
“Then answer me this. If you had continued to play, would you have had enough money to cover your losses?”
Her hesitation was all the answer he needed. “I didn’t think so. What were you going to do then? Go to your father to ask for money to cover your gambling debts?”
“I didn’t intend to lose tonight,” she said through clenched teeth.
“No one does,” he fired back. “But
The Soiled Dove
doesn’t accept excuses. They don’t lose money from their tables. They always come out the winner.”
“I know that. Tonight was different. I was—”
“What? You were tired? You weren’t up to playing the hands you were dealt? You thought you’d win the next hand?”
“I know when to quit!” she said in a voice that held a desperate tone. A voice that hinted that she was on the verge of breaking down.
Nick knew he should stop badgering her, but he couldn’t. She’d scared the hell out of him. He didn’t want to imagine what would have happened if she hadn’t walked away from that table tonight.
“Except you almost didn’t quit, did you?”
Her gaze lowered for a fraction of a second before she lifted it again and glared at him. “You don’t know anything about me. You don’t know what I would or would not have done.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Nick answered. “I know everything about you. Including that you are desperate for funds. Funds you cannot go to your father to get, because you cannot tell him what you need them for.”
Her reaction was that of a sail whose wind had been sucked from it.
“You don’t know that,” she said, except her voice lacked the bravado it had earlier held. Her confidence waned.
“But I do,” he repeated, then lifted his hand to his face and pulled off his mask. “I know everything about you, Lady Winnifred. And I know that you’ve gotten yourself in over your head.”
Nick should have taken a great deal of satisfaction in the sharp intake of her breath. He should have felt a smug sense of elation at her reaction, but he didn’t. The fear he saw in her eyes erased any pleasure he might have felt.
“You,” she said in a ragged whisper. Her hands reached out on either side of her and her fingers clutched at the velvet cushions. She was terrified and he’d put that terror in her eyes.
Nick reached out and lifted the mask from her face. Dark curls came loose from their pins and fell in ringlets over her shoulders. Her lips parted in surprise and her lower lip trembled as if she couldn’t control it.
“Yes, me, Lady Winnifred.”
“Why can’t you leave me alone?” she cried out. “I haven’t asked for your interference. I don’t want it.”
“But you need it.” Nick leaned forward and placed his forearms on his knees. He was almost level with her. “Do you have any idea how the owners of
The Dove
can guarantee they will make a profit from their gaming tables. Do you?”