Estella turned back to Gage. "You say you won't share his client's name. But can you tell me when the arrangement began? How many debts were settled? Whether the same person was behind all of them? Did this gentleman cover other men’s debts or just my father’s, and?—"
"Miss Hale," Mr. Gage interrupted gently. "You're very persistent. I suppose you’re aware of that."
Estella dipped her head. "I've been told, yes."
"And you've come to a gaming establishment, without a chaperone?—"
"I have a chaperone." Estella gestured at Thea, who had wandered over to examine a ledger on the corner of Gage's desk with undisguised fascination.
It came out perhaps a tad too defensive, because while Thea seemed convinced that she was “practically a spinster” and “as good as an elderly aunt,” the truth was—she did not seem nearly old enough to be on the shelf.
Gage looked at Thea, who was now murmuring something about double-entry bookkeeping. He looked back at Estella, and she suspected he’d come to the same conclusion. "Right."
He rubbed his jaw, stealing a glance at Thea, who’d wandered over to his bookshelf. Then he seemed to come to a decision. "I'll tell you this much. The debts were settled by a single benefactor, beginning approximately two years ago. The same individual has been responsible for every payment. And—" He hesitated. "He was very specific about keeping it discreet."
Estella’s mind raced. Who else could it be but Sebastian? And it couldn’t be him, could it? What reason did he have to lie?
She shook her head, more confused now than when they’d arrived.
But no. She wasn't going to think about Sebastian. She was here to find answers, and if those answers led somewhere other than the Marquess of Blackwood, then good. Fine. She didn't need it to be him. She just needed the truth.
"Can you describe him?" she asked. "The man who?—"
The door slammed open, making all three of them jump before turning to the door.
Sebastian stood there, and he…
He was furious.
Estella blinked rapidly as she took him in. She'd seen him angry before. Most notably, the cold, controlled anger he'd directed at Fairchild. But this was different. This was a raw, unfiltered fury that made his eyes blaze and his scarred jaw clench.
But what was more startling was his disheveled appearance. He wasn't wearing a coat. His cravat was loose, his hair disordered, and he looked as though he'd run the entire way here.
Good, some petty, wounded part of her thought. Let him be discomposed for once.
His gaze swept the room, and when his eyes found hers, the fury in them was so intense she nearly flinched.
Nearly.
But she was done flinching for this man.
"Miss Hale." His voice was ice. "A word."
Miss Hale. So they were back to that, were they? Well, she supposed she'd started it. “Lord Blackwood,” she'd said on the terrace. Apparently he'd taken the hint.
"Lord Blackwood." She said the name with deliberate calm. She even managed a polite smile. "What a surprise."
His nostrils flared. "Outside. Now."
"I'm in the middle of a conversation."
"You're in the middle of a gaming hell." He took a step into the room. "Without a chaperone?—"
"The footman is waiting outside, and—" She gestured at Thea, just as she had with Gage.
"Outside," Sebastian repeated. This time his voice was lower, rougher. "Please."
The please was what did it. Not because it softened her, but because it cracked the ice in his voice just enough for her to hear the fear underneath.
