Adrian went back downstairs to his study and threw himself into his work, as he often did, especially when he was younger, when revenge still burned hot in his heart. Whenever he was not buried between the pages of his ledgers, he moved from his townhouse to his other gaming hells, The Hanged Man and The Devil’s Due being the most prominent.
“How could she think I could give these up?” he muttered.
Daphne offered him a chance to walk in the light with her, but he drowned himself in more darkness. He spent nights in the private rooms, avoiding her stare completely and focusing all his energies on preserving what belonged to him.
He had been too careless at the Obsidian Card, openly presenting himself as a beloved patron. No more of that. When he left his study so he might visit The Hanged Man and The Devil’s Due, Adrian used different names and wore various disguises, even one in which he played an impoverished man who scrounged for money to buy the gold needed to play.
It was interesting, to say the least, for people to watch him with distaste as he walked around in his tattered clothes.
“You’re here again? Don’t you think you should be using your money for something important? Like food?”
“How does he get money to be here all the time?”
Kettering would sometimes pretend to take him into custody or throw him out whenever he needed time to rest in the private rooms. The pair had managed to fool most of the underworld. It helped better when the Duke was not there as himself.
Whenever he felt the need to see Daphne, he let himself remember how he had almost lost her in the fire. They could have both died then.
The Duke drove his men to work harder. Kettering continued to run the establishments since most of his employees did not even know who the true owners of the gaming hells were. But Adrian became more involved than ever. Each time he strode, shuffled, or limped—depending on the character he played that night—into one of his operations, he felt a renewed sense of power.
He was not cowering at home, waiting for the next rogue to strike out against him. He was in the thick of the melee, observing everyone with equal attention, ready to strike out at all those who would seek to harm what he cared for most dearly.
Daphne knew her retreat might not matter to Adrian. Not at all. She had barely seen or heard him at home. It looked like he was sending her a message about choosing the darkness she told him to leave behind.
When she went to her sister Wilhelmina’s house, she actually was longing for chaos there. It was better than being exposed to her mother’s gloating at the Grisham townhouse.
“Daphne,” Wilhelmina gasped her sister’s name as she saw her distraught look. “C-come inside. Hector will be ecstatic to see you’re here.”
“Thank you,” Daphne said, trying to sound stronger than she felt.
“Stay here in the drawing room. I will handle everything,” her older sister said, giving her a cup of tea. “Gerard can fetch you whatever you need if you need anything from your house.”
Daphne could not help but chuckle at the way her sister made quick assumptions and didn’t mention Adrian’s name. She breathed in and out to calm herself and gave her sister a grateful smile.
“I knew you’d have time to listen to my stories, Aunt Daphne!” Hector cried, clapping his hands together.
“You’re getting bigger, Hector!” Daphne exclaimed, just as delighted despite everything. “Soon, you will be taller than me.”
“Oh. That’s true,” he said with a proud grin. “But not before you listen to more of my stories.”
“I will listen to your stories,” Daphne replied solemnly, placing her hand on her heart and closing her eyes. She loved her nephews and nieces.
“Today, I will read fromSir Woolsen Lends a Hand,” he said, nodding his head.
“He’s tired ofThe Charming Boy from Southampton, I believe,” Wilhelmina commented, with a knowing smirk.
“Oh, I remember when he used to watch the play like a little adult with the rest of the patrons.”
“Hector has always been mature for his age. I sometimes find him thumbing through copies of Master Shakespeare’s works in the library. But I’ve also tried to give him some reading that better fits a child.” She waved her hand at the copy ofSir Woolsen. “He will only be my baby for a little while longer.”!”
“Mama! How can you say that? I am perfectly capable of reading plays written by the Bard and discussing them with the rest of theton.”
“That might be what your mother is afraid of,” Daphne said, giving him a little tap on the back for comfort.
Then, she shared a comforting wink with her sister. She saw Wilhelmina’s fears well.
She does not want her little boy to grow up before his time. She will protect him from anything, even the rigors of overstimulating himself and interacting with members of the ton.
Hector proved to be a good companion, but Daphne already knew that before settling into a new routine at her sister’s townhouse. On some days, she read to him before bed, occasionally freeing her sister and Gerard from the duty. Sometimes, Hector read to her. To fill the days with activities other than reading, they walked in the gardens and explored.
