Chapter Seven

What the hell is going on?

Hugh leaned from behind a corridor and watched as Brooks and Ellie emerged from the paneled room. Brooks carried his jacket, waistcoat, and cravat.

Hugh had seen workmen deliver furnishings to Ellie’s private gambling room. But they had departed a half hour ago. So what was Brooks doing inside with Ellie? And why was the man partially undressed?

An unfamiliar knot tightened in his chest. Ellie couldn’t possibly be having an illicit liaison with the burly man, could she?

Hugh had never understood why Ellie never married. She was lovely, and she came from a wealthy, titled family. If rumor stood true, she had a large enough dowry to attract a flock of the beau monde’s bachelors.

Hugh’s mother had insisted Ellie’s family had been tainted with scandal. But other men wouldn’t mind, not if they had Ellie to warm their bed each night along with her dowry.

Was that what Brooks was hoping for?

The knot in his chest began to burn.

Christ! Was he jealous? Since returning to London, he’d had his share of bed sport and had never experienced jealousy over a woman. And he hadn’t even bedded Ellie.

Not that he didn’t want to.

He knew she wasn’t immune to him, either. He’d seen the way she’d raptly watched him when she’d interrupted his calisthenics in the boxing room. Her gaze had licked over his skin like flame, her breasts had risen and fallen above her bodice, and it had taken every ounce of self-control not to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. When he’d kissed her in the shopkeeper’s back room, the heated moment had only served to whet his appetite, his fierce desire for her.

Brooks lowered his head to Ellie’s ear to speak, and she smiled and laughed. He’d only heard her laugh once since his return, and it had been brief.

The sound vibrated through him, leaving an empty hole in his chest. She used to often laugh for him.

Now she was gifting another with the pleasure.

Damnation.

He wanted her back. Her laugh, her smile, her intelligent conversation, her tempting kisses, her everything.

What had started as a competition for the club had turned into much, much more. The problem was she seemed excited by the competition and was determined not to lose.

And here he was…her adversary, a man intent on protecting her by besting her.

…

Ellie stood at the window in the upstairs office overlooking the casino floor. Every table was crowded that night, even the macao and loo tables, which were usually second to the faro, hazard, and roulette tables.

A boxing match was scheduled for the evening, and more gamblers would rush to the casino floor immediately afterward to wager their winnings. Hugh was not within sight, and she assumed he was overseeing the pugilists before they stepped into the ring.

Good. It would allow her time to conduct her business without his infernal interference.

Ellie spotted Lady Willoughby as soon as she set foot inside. Even with her simple blue half mask, Ellie recognized the pale blond hair and willowy figure. Brooks was standing by the door and allowed the lady to pass. Ellie had given Olivia a secret word in order to gain admittance, and Olivia in turn had conveyed it to Lady Willoughby.

Ellie waited a half hour before slipping on her peacock mask and leaving the room. She did not want to draw unwanted attention to the lady straightaway.

She approached Lady Willoughby by the roulette table just as the croupier cried out, “Twenty-eight black. The lady wins!”

Patrons shouted in dismay as the croupier collected their losses. Ellie slipped to the woman’s right. “Luck is with you tonight.”

Lady Willoughby turned. “Luck hasn’t been with me in a long time.”

The mask didn’t cover the woman’s entire face, and Ellie could see a new bruise on her right cheekbone. She had attempted to hide all the bruises with face powder, but up close, Ellie could tell. It had only been a few days since Olivia had told her of Lady Willoughby’s plight. Had her husband beaten her again?

Ellie’s fists clenched at her sides. She took a breath, counted to ten, and forced her fingers to relax. The last thing she wanted to do was frighten the woman upon their first meeting.

“I am Olivia’s sister,” Ellie said.

The lady nodded once. “She told me to expect you.”

“Please collect your winnings and follow me.”

Ellie led the lady, not to the stairs leading to the office, but around a corner to the paneled wall. Ellie reached for the latch, and the door swung open.

Lady Willoughby’s step faltered. “Is it safe?”

“Yes.”

She followed Ellie inside. The room was almost complete. Furnishings had been delivered, the room painted, and blue curtains hung, but there hadn’t been time to add additional gambling tables. Only the single roulette table stood in the center of the large room.

Lady Willoughby walked farther inside. Her gloved fingertips traced the back of a settee. “What is this place?”

“It will be a women’s gambling room. A place where men are not permitted. The only males who will cross the threshold will be liveried servers.”

“Truly? A place without men? How lovely.” Lady Willoughby stopped by the roulette table and spun the wheel. Without a little white ball, it sounded different as it spun and came to a stop.

Ellie could only imagine the lady’s thoughts regarding a place without men. Safety. A haven. A brief escape from her hellish existence living with a brute.

“I admit to being pleasantly surprised. But do you believe you will have sufficient business to justify a women’s room?” Lady Willoughby asked.

Ellie chuckled. “Have you noticed how many ladies are on the casino floor this evening?”

“Yes, I have. Some are unmasked. They are not all ladies.” Lady Willoughby touched her own mask, a simple deep blue one that matched her dress.

“True.”

“You allow them entrance?”

“They are wealthy women. Widows or wives of merchants. The Raven Club is not Almack’s. There are no discerning patronesses who hand out vouchers.”

“Thank heavens for that,” the lady said.

So far, everything was progressing as planned. Lady Willoughby had come to the club. She had followed Ellie into the private room and seemed excited at the prospect of a women’s space. Could Ellie convince her to take one more step?

“Come. There is more to see,” Ellie said.

Lady Willoughby followed as Ellie led her to the back of the room. Ellie pressed another latch, this one smaller, and a hidden door in the panel swung open quietly.

Samantha Willoughby’s lips parted. “Another hidden room?”

Ellie didn’t answer but stepped inside to reveal the smaller room. The lady halted, her brown eyes wide behind her mask. “A bedchamber?”

The room had been painted and decorated in cream colors. Brooks had come through, and the four-poster bed had been assembled and a feathered mattress delivered. A peach coverlet gave the room a warm feel. A chest of drawers sat in the corner. A lace runner and porcelain bowl for washing rested upon the chest.

“It’s a place to stay. Safe and hidden,” Ellie said.

“From whom?

“From men.”

Lady Willoughby stiffened, and she bit her bottom lip. “Olivia told you everything, didn’t she?”

There was no sense lying, not now. “She did.”

Slowly, Lady Willoughby removed her mask. She did not make eye contact with Ellie, but Ellie saw enough.

She cringed in horror. The lady’s husband had beaten her more. Much more from what Olivia had described. His handiwork showed in the dark purple bruising around both of his wife’s eyes. She looked worse than the pugilists in the boxing ring. Ellie felt a nauseating sickness and swallowed hard.

“When did he do this to you?” Ellie said, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Lady Willoughby shook her head, still refusing to look directly at her. “I’m clumsy and took a tumble down the stairs.”

“There is no need to lie. I will not whisper a word.”

“Like your sister?” the lady asked, a note of censure in her strained voice.

Ellie was not put off. “Olivia is concerned for you.”

The lady’s chin stiffened. “There is no need for anyone’s concern. I am fine.”

“Are you? What if you conceive a child? Would you want a babe to be just as ‘fine’ in your husband’s care?”

Lady Willoughby took a quick breath. “How dare you!”

“I dare because you do not speak the truth.”

The woman raised a trembling hand to one of her blackened eyes, and a cry escaped her lips—a sad, desperate sound like that of a wounded and cornered animal. It tugged at Ellie’s heart, and it took all her effort not to reach out and cradle the woman in her arms.

“What is the use in subterfuge? You know.”

Ellie dared to step forward to touch her arm. She feared the lady would bolt, like a frightened deer. “There is help. We have helped others.”

“How?” Samantha’s voice trembled.

“You must be willing to do what is necessary.”

“Harm my husband?”

Ellie’s lips thinned. “That wasn’t what I had in mind, although I can understand how you would feel that way.”

“I don’t! What else is there?”

“Your departure from London can be arranged. A new start.”

“You mean for me to disappear?”

“In a sense. You must be willing to assume a new name and flee. I understand it is a difficult choice. You will lose your title as a lady, along with the wealth it provides.”

Lady Willoughby shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Ellie pressed on; she knew she had to. If her gut instinct was right, then the woman’s situation was dire. Even Olivia had not known all of her friend’s circumstances. “Who or what keeps you here in London?”

“My mother and father. They would be ashamed if I…if I left the baron.” Her voice was small, broken.

“Do they know how he shows his affection?”

“I tried to tell them. They suggested I try harder to please my husband, and that my plight is the result of his displeasure.”

Anger blossomed in Ellie’s chest. How could the woman’s parents be so cruel? Their refusal to aid their daughter was as unconscionable as the baron’s physical beatings in Ellie’s opinion. She knew divorce was scandalous, but if a husband took his fists to Ellie, she knew without a doubt, Ian would protect her from an abusive spouse. “And you? How do you feel about your husband?”

For the first time, Lady Willoughby met Ellie’s gaze straight on. “I hate him.”

…

Something was going on in the hidden room.

Brooks entered and left twice. The large man tugged on his collar, then a few minutes later, the paneled door swung open and Ellie exited. Whatever they were doing inside had continued.

Damn it.

He was going to find out the truth.

Hugh knew the four-poster bed had already been delivered. He’d seen workmen carry it in piece by piece along with a rolled Oriental carpet. He still couldn’t understand why Ellie wanted a bed in the ladies’ gambling room.

He’d wanted to believe her excuse that a lady might need to rest, but then common sense had taken hold. That, and he’d seen Brooks and Ellie enter and leave the room together more than once.

He was truly a fool.

He might have no right where Ellie was concerned, but he refused to allow her to have a liaison with Brooks.

Not when she’d kissed Hugh with such passion. Not when she’d made those little mewling noises that had kept him up at night thinking of her.

How could she forget their shared kiss so easily? Christ, he’d thought of little else over the past two days.

Perhaps it was his vanity. He’d never cared about a lover leaving his bed for another. He’d never entertained them for more than a brief time before moving on.

But this was different.

She was different.

Hugh waited for Brooks to walk away before making his move. Ellie remained in the room.

Perfect.

Hugh pressed the latch, opened the door, and slipped inside. He found her bent over the roulette table, reading a sheaf of papers. She straightened when she spotted him.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked.

“I was looking for you. You weren’t in the office, the boxing room, or strolling the casino floor.”

“I wasn’t aware I was supposed to keep you apprised of my whereabouts,” Ellie said.

“I spotted you enter this room. I also saw Brooks enter and leave here. Twice.”

“So?”

“What’s going on between you two?”

“Careful,” she said, her voice a tantalizing whisper. “You sound jealous.”

He guffawed. It sounded strained to his own ears. “Jealous? I’ve never experienced the emotion.”

“Thank you for reminding me of your ways. Now, I’ve told you of my plans with this room. Brooks is merely helping me carrying out my vision.”

“Your vision? I hope by that you mean moving furnishings and heavy carpets.”

“Precisely.”

He glanced around the room, noting the furnishings and curtains. A settee and a table and chairs were situated around the perimeter of the room. A large Oriental carpet covered the hardwood floors. Blue silk drapes artfully framed the walls in a luxurious display. A bed was notably absent, but then he recalled Ellie telling him it was to be in a separate chamber.

“You chose the blue silk,” he said.

She shrugged one delicate shoulder. “I told you in the draper’s that I agreed with your suggestion. Now why are you really here? I find it hard to believe you burst inside this room to see if I have taken a lover. I think you are here to see how far I’ve come? To see what I still require?”

He should say yes. His motivations for seeking her out today should have to do with their rivalry. But it was furthest from the truth. He’d burst in here not to observe how much she’d accomplished, but to confirm she was not with another man. That there was nothing going on between her and Brooks.

Because he couldn’t stop thinking about her. “Do you ever recall our kiss?”

She paled a shade, bringing the freckles on her nose to higher contrast. Damn if he didn’t find it charming.

“I said it was a mistake and to forget what occurred,” she said.

“Forget it? Impossible. I’ve thought of little else.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “You cannot confront me and accuse me of having a secret amorous affair with the club’s head guard and then talk about our shared kiss like you want to repeat it. You had more romantic flair years ago.”

He wanted to haul her to his chest and show her just how much flair he had, how much he wanted to kiss and lick her until she cried out in pleasure. She was driving him to distraction. Perhaps that was her game? It had been five years. She was a lovely woman in her prime. She might not have been intimate with Brooks, but what if she wasn’t innocent and had taken other lovers?

He couldn’t blame her, yet…yet the idea of any other male touching her made his gut clench.

“Rest assured if I were trying to seduce you, you would know it.”

She leaned away from the table, the simple movement smooth and enticing. The sliver of skin at her collarbone was like fine porcelain, and he wanted to press his lips against the sensitive pulse at her neck to taste the tantalizing skin.

She met his gaze, her blue eyes watchful, and he wondered if she had the slightest inkling of his thoughts. “Hmm. What else do you want then? To kiss me again?”

He did. Desperately. But he also knew she was challenging him, and he wouldn’t fall for her ploy. If he said yes, if he made the slightest move, she’d refuse him in a heartbeat.

No, he’d bide his time. Slowly entice her and bring out the burning sweetness that seemed captive within her.

“If you’re finished with me, you should leave,” she said.

He wasn’t finished with her. Not even close. But he nodded and stepped aside. “As you wish.”

He caught her sidelong look. The slightest hesitation and the parting of her lips. She was surprised he hadn’t tried to stop her, to kiss her again.

Good. If he was in torment, it was only fair that she suffered, too.