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Chapter Twelve
Dracott crawled under the bedsheets, his body beyond exhausted. He desperately required a few hours of sleep before he gave his report to Worth. Unfortunately, he had nothing to report after spending the past few days searching for his friend. He couldn’t give details on Sabrina’s whereabouts, even if he had located her. She had hidden well. Which also left him unable to find Lady too. The case of Lady Langdale had frustrated Worth and Ralston.
He closed his eyes, but sleep eluded him. A tempting minx sprawled across him, and her teasing smile filled his thoughts. A smile he wanted to kiss from her lips. His body ached with his need for her. Not only his body but his heart, too. He hadn’t seen her since their passionate night, which left him portrayed as a callous cad who had bedded her for his own selfish pleasure. He hoped his absence hadn’t caused Maggie to doubt his intentions. If so, he would convince her otherwise, any way he could.
Just as thoughts of Maggie comforted him, the door to his room flew open. He jerked to a sitting position and reached for the knife he kept hidden under the pillow. At least he had had the sense to keep his trousers on when he laid down in bed. The door slammed shut behind the intruder, and Dracott relaxed when he saw Ravencroft.
“Where in the hell have you been?” Ravencroft hissed.
Dracott settled against the headboard, keeping a grip on the knife. “I did not know you cared so much for my welfare.” Sarcasm filled his comment.
“Now is not the time for your wit.”
Dracott sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with his brother. It only reminded him of the other problems he must deal with. “Then perhaps it is time for you to inform me of your plans. Or let me convince you to come clean with the Worthingtons.”
“No!” Ravencroft snarled.
Dracott slid the knife back under the pillow and pulled on a shirt. After pouring them each a drink, he settled in the chair before the fireplace. Instead of sitting, Ravencroft threw back the drink and started pacing.
Before long, he stopped in front of Dracott and demanded again. “Well, where have you been? I had to listen to Noel complain about you all evening for abandoning your courtship of Lady Margaret. Then Worthington bent my ear for an hour about the doubts he holds about your character. You have placed me in a difficult position.”
“Why? They are unaware of our relationship with one another.”
Ravencroft sliced his hand through the air. “That is beside the point.”
“Then what is the point?” Dracott asked.
“I need your help. Lady L has pushed the deadline forward. I have two days to supply her with the blueprints, and I cannot find where Worthington keeps them. I need you to help me draw up a rough sketch of the layout of their townhome. We have both visited the townhome enough to know the location of every room,” Ravencroft explained.
Dracott sat forward. “No. I refuse to aid that bitch.”
“You must. Margaret’s life hangs in the balance.”
Dracott sat back with confidence. “Maggie’s safety is not an issue. I’ve arranged precautions in place to guarantee her protection.”
“With Rogers?” Ravencroft scoffed.
Dracott didn’t answer. Instead, he changed the subject. “Is Maggie well?” His brother stroked his curiosity with his comment about Noel’s and Worthington’s complaints.
Ravencroft plopped down on the chair. “Yes, she is well. Bored as usual with all the entertainments. Nothing too out of the ordinary. However, her gaze stays focused on every doorway with a longing glance, awaiting your arrival. However, you never show. Your absence causes her to refuse every offer to dance, leaving Lady Worthington in a snit.”
Dracott swiped a hand along his face. He understood Lady Worthington’s frustration quite well. “I will call upon the family tomorrow.”
“And my problem?” Ravencroft asked.
Dracott rose and started toward the bed. “As I told you before, you are on your own. Now, if you don’t mind, please see yourself out.”
Dracott sighed in relief when he heard the door shut behind him. That was, until a familiar scent suffocated the air. He turned around and saw his mother wearing a smug expression.
“Mother,” Dracott gritted out between his teeth.
Lady Ravencroft glided across the meager dwelling and bussed both of her sons across their cheek like a doting mother would do. However, his mother was far from what an affectionate mother acted like. No. She held the same traits as the evil woman she associated herself with.
“It is so wonderful our family is together once again.” She made herself comfortable in the armchair and fluttered her hand toward the bottle of gin. “Gregory, be a dear and pour your mother a drink.”
Ravencroft snarled his displeasure but did his mother’s bidding. “What do we owe this pleasure, Mother?” Ravencroft delivered his own brand of sarcasm this time around.
Lady Ravencroft took a sip from the glass. “Is that any tone to take with your mother? I hope you do not speak to your intended in that respect.”
