“I wouldn’t dare.”
He might battle her for all he was worth inside the ring, but outside of it, he wanted to protect her. However, until the culprits were found and apprehended, Esme would continue to place her life at risk, and he realized that keeping her safe mattered much more to him than his own family honor.
Chapter 14
It was a strange thing to be so incredibly aware of a man that Esme could sense his presence in the residence, even when they were not in the same room. She knew when Marcus was on the verge of entering the dining room just before he crossed the threshold. She looked up from her desk just before he strode into the library. She knew when he was wandering about his bedchamber unable to sleep, knew when he took his wanderings farther afield into other rooms. Somehow, she felt when he was exiting the residence.
Within her bedchamber, she’d been lounging in a chair by the window reading, with a fully recovered Laddie in her lap, when she became aware of Marcus engaging in the latter and taking his leave. She stood up so quickly as to send her cherished dog scrambling down her skirt to the floor. Parting the draperies, she saw Marcusstriding up the street. Cursing him soundly for not informing her that he intended to go out tonight, she grabbed her reticule and drew on her pelisse even as she darted from her room, down the stairs, and out into the night in pursuit.
Perhaps he was on a personal mission—to visit his brother or a brothel or—
Her thoughts staggered to a stop at the possibility that he was seeking female companionship, that he might bestow those wondrous kisses of his upon another woman. She was more than willing to be the receiver, had been disappointed that when they’d returned home from the park and gone to her chamber of solitude for a bit of wrestling, he hadn’t taken advantage of the numerous opportunities afforded him to kiss her. He’d certainly looked as though he’d wanted to, several times. Perhaps she should be forthright in letting him know she yearned for further intimacy. Even if there could never be more between them than an affair. He would wish to have children, surely, and the sort of wife who tended to a home, not the sort who skulked about. Therefore, if she had him at all, it would be for only a short time, but it was better than not at all.
Although if she didn’t pay attention, she was going to lose him entirely.
He was walking about as bold as he pleased while she was hugging the depths of darkness provided by trees or buildings where light couldn’t reach. Why hadn’t he told her of his plans? Did he not trust her? Was she a fool to trusthim? Had she been duped by his good looks, his charm, and the harsh life he now lived but didn’t deserve?
He hailed a hansom cab. With a curse, she quickened her pace. This hour of the night she was unlikely to find one in time to see where he went, but the fates were on her side because another appeared straightaway. “Follow that cab at a discreet distance,” she called up before climbing in.
He wasn’t merely stretching his legs then. He had a destination in mind, one a good distance away, and she was determined to discover precisely where it was and his purpose in going there.
The hansom driver let him out in one of the dodgier parts of London, an area he’d haunted for several months where he’d acquired the sort of skills that if caught exercising saw most men sent to prison. Breaking into dwellings, picking pockets, engaging in fisticuffs with no rules whatsoever. Threatening, bullying, even on occasion terrorizing.
He’d learned to hide in shadows, to watch and judge the dangers in his surroundings. He’d learned patience and how to bide his time.
But this afternoon, wrestling with Esme, all he’d longed to do was pounce. To take her mouth that smiled with triumph and to own it. To take her harsh breaths from her exertions and turn them into moans of pleasure. To shed her of thegarments that clung to her curves and give his hands the freedom to journey over the dips and swells that made his mouth water. Where she was concerned, his patience was on a short leash. And if he gave in to his desires, he would lose sight of the goal that had consumed him for more than a year. His focus would turn to her exclusively, and what did he have to offer her but a broken man? A man with no future until he resolved the past.
His harsh laughter echoed down the darkened alleyway through which he now trod. As though she would want anything to do with a man who had yet to find his way through the quagmire of his life. More than ever, he needed to discover who had lured his father to his downfall. And recent events had clarified some things, had provided a clue that might assist him in getting back on the correct path.
He came to a stop opposite a building that more closely resembled a warehouse than a residence, but the owner viewed it as his castle, his fortress. It even had a bloody throne room. That was where Marcus would begin because it was where Willie felt most powerful. As it was after midnight, when the darkest deeds were done, the Devil’s Hand gang leader was no doubt waiting for his minions to report in on any missions he may have sent them on.
Slowly, Marcus glanced around, intently he listened. Other than the scurrying of the rats, nothing else was happening around him. After crossing the street, he hugged the side of thebuilding as he made his way to the back corner, where he paused and inhaled the strong odor of acrid tobacco.
Marcus peered around the edge of the building. The watcher had a forearm placed across his midsection serving as a resting place for his other elbow as he clenched his pipe between his teeth and puffed, one ankle casually crossed over the other. Apparently, they weren’t expecting trouble tonight, merely keeping a lookout, waiting for the others to return. Marcus dashed around the corner and, before the guard’s eyes could fully widen, he’d delivered an uppercut to the blighter’s jaw that closed those eyes and had the bugger hitting the ground in an unmoving lump. Digging a thin rope out of his pocket, Marcus made short work of tying the man’s hands behind his back and then binding his feet. After gagging him, Marcus dragged him away from the tiniest speck of light so he wouldn’t be seen. Then he took a moment to glance around and ensure the disturbance had attracted no attention. Quickly he returned to the door, not surprised to discover it wasn’t locked. After all, a guard had been in place.
Like a wraith, he silently slipped inside and made his way along empty corridors until he neared the large room he sought. Pale light spilled out into the hallway. Pressing his back to the wall, he listened. All he heard was glass being set against wood. With any luck, Willie would bewell in his cups with a loose tongue that might finally garner Marcus the answers he sought.
Peeking around the doorjamb, he saw no others in the chamber, only the gang leader sprawled on his huge wooden throne with its garish display of colored glass, which Marcus assumed represented jewels, embedded along its edges. An ignorant man’s rendition of what a throne should look like. Sauntering in, Marcus took some delight in Willie coming to attention and straightening slightly.
“Wolf, I ’eard ye was dead.”
“Not for your lack of trying. I worked for you and still you sent men to do me in.”
Willie shrugged. “There was a five-’undred quid bounty on yer ’ead, lad. I’m a businessman first. I couldn’t pass that up.”
“Who was going to pay the bounty?”
“Lucifer.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes. “You’re not Lucifer?”
The gang boss chuckled darkly. “No.”
“Who is he then?”
“I ’aven’t a clue. Never seen the blighter, but ’e’s skilled at gettin’ messages to me.”
“You work for him then.”
