Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“ Y our Grace.” The guard at the door nodded to Lucien and gestured inside the Silver Gate, another gambling hell.
Lucien nodded back, stepping inside. His reputation preceded him, from other lords to ladies, to guards at almost every establishment in London.
His lips pulled in tightly at the corners when he saw a crowd of men gathered around a table.
He had much to think about. One, the financial affairs of Lord Herrington. Lucien had granted him an extension of payment that came with heavy threats if not met. And two, the case of his former friend, who disappeared at night in peculiar ways.
Nicholas was the owner of Montgomery Manor, so why did he sneak out? Why break a window and flee?
Unless he was hiding from someone.
His sister, perhaps?
That only led Lucien to more questions.
He turned his thoughts to other pressing matters. He had stayed awake most of the night, thinking of his kiss with Edwina. If they had not arrived at the townhouse, would he have continued it?
She excited and intrigued him, and yet the week he would spend at Montgomery Manor would be tainted by her aunt’s arrival.
Shaking away those thoughts, Lucien approached a quieter table and sat down. Three men looked at him, blinking, exchanging glances. One of them leaned forward.
“The presence of a duke honors us,” the man said, smiling, surprised. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Your Grace?”
“I am looking for information,” Lucien told them, spreading his hand of cards to examine them. He glanced over his cards, meeting the eyes of each man. “If I win, you will all share with me what you know about the Earl of Montgomery.”
Another man sniggered. “The Earl of Montgomery? Why would you need information about him? Were the two of you not friends? I am sure you were the last time we spoke.”
Lucien said nothing at first, only let the heavy silence linger. “I asked for information, not to be questioned about why I need it. It is none of your business.” He cocked his head. “Unless you’re stalling, afraid to lose to a duke.”
“I am not afraid,” the man said boldly. “Merely curious.”
“Perhaps turn that curiosity towards your hand so I might conclude this far quicker.”
“And if you lose, Your Grace?” another man asked, only to be elbowed and silenced by the last man.
Lucien gave them a dark grin. “I do not lose.”
Although he was not a gambling man, Lucien relinquished a small fortune in the center of the table, offering it up as an extra incentive. The men knew that if they lost, they’d lose the money, but if they won, they’d dishonor a duke, and that could bring far greater peril than losing a handful of gold coins.
He had them trapped. But if the money proved to be a bribe if they did not willingly offer up information, then so be it.
I have to blend in . I cannot keep investigating without frequenting the places I am investigating. Too many people will talk soon enough if I am only seen asking questions.
So he played his hand, and he watched the sweat bead on the men’s faces whenever their hands were too good. They quickly realized this and began to speak as they played.
“Stormhold, you are barely ever present at gambling hells and are never reported to be seen. Where did you learn to play?”
“Here and there,” Lucien answered vaguely.
“Ah, come on, now. We are all acquaintances, are we not? Spill your secrets.”
Lucien only looked at his cards, noting which ones he would win with. The gentleman on his left had put down one card that would boost his play tremendously, but it would put the man on his right at a disadvantage. He eyed Lucien wearily, as if knowing what would happen.
It was he who spoke, trying to distract him.
“Tell us,” he urged. “It cannot be too unsavory, can it? Unless… Heavens, Stormhold, do you have a sordid past? Perhaps you visited a few less-respectable places to learn how to gamble. The Circle, perhaps? Maybe you sat at a table in a dark corner, a lady on either side of you, both vying for your attention. A man like you, Your Grace, with a secretive past… You definitely have a thing or two hidden in the shadows.”
“You seem familiar enough with such a place,” Lucien replied smoothly. “Surely you would know if I was there, considering you know so much about it.”
“I—”
“Play your hand.”
It was an order, a brisk one, for Lucien had grown tired of their company.
“We noticed you skulking around the Raven’s Den with Lady Edwina. What business do you have with her? Do you seek the Earl’s whereabouts to ask for her hand?—”
“Play. Your. Hand.”
The man paled, realizing that his attempt at distracting Lucien had not worked. Swallowing hard, he set down his cards, and Lucien smirked before placing his own down.
His hand had won, as he knew it would, for he knew every trick and honest way to win.
He took back his bag of coins, watching as the greed in the men’s eyes flared.
“Information,” he reminded them sharply.
One man was quick to divulge, “Your Grace, they say that Lord Montgomery frequents the Silver Gate and the Raven’s Den. He has been sighted at the Golden Hand, but was recently removed from the premises.”
“Now he gambles mostly in the backstreets,” the first man, who’d inquired about Lucien’s presence, added. “Shady places. Places we’d never dream of being spotted in, so it is peculiar of an earl to willingly enter them.”
“Desperate men do desperate things,” the third man commented.
“Why desperate?” Lucien questioned, letting three gold coins slip out of the bag—they could fight amongst themselves.
“I do not know,” the man admitted. “All people are saying is that he does not look well and that he has been seen in many unsavory places. Brothels, like Madam Molly’s—although he seems to never indulge. It is as if he goes there to conduct meetings, though nobody knows what for. Then, he has also been seen at places like the Clover, and ill-reputed gambling hells where nobody is honest.”
“I see,” Lucien answered.
It only increased his dislike for his former friend, as why would Nicholas risk himself—risk his sister—and the Montgomery name? What could be so important that he would frequent such unsavory establishments?
There was indulgence, and then there was downright foolishness, and Lucien had never thought Nicholas was foolish.
One man lowered his voice, leaning in. “They say that the war changed Lord Montgomery. They say that he came back a little wrong, a little unscrewed.” He tapped his head, grimacing, before he snatched up one coin.
The other two reached for the remaining coins, trying to snag both.
“It should go without saying that if you breathe a word about me asking questions regarding the Earl, then?—”
“Not a word, Your Grace,” the man who had attempted to distract him assured him quickly.
“Good. And never interrupt me again. I’ve also heard about your regular visits to a certain village as of late,” Lucien said, not convinced. “Interesting that your wife believes you’re visiting an elderly aunt in Cornwall instead. Then again, I am sure a misunderstanding will be avoided if you keep your mouth shut. You seem to have a loose tongue.”
The man’s eyes widened, and he gulped. “Your Grace, I swear on my life that nobody will know you asked anything. I will not even confirm whether I saw you, should anybody ask.”
At once, the rest of the men promised the same.
Lucien gave them all one more cursory glance. “Good.”
Leaving them to it, he walked away and hailed his carriage to return to Montgomery Manor.
A crash echoed through the house, waking Edwina.
She gasped and bolted upright, her eyes snapping to the door. Already on her feet, she did not bother with a robe and simply ran out of her room and down the hallway, her thoughts lingering on that broken window from several nights ago.
She could only hope that the sound did not wake her aunt.
When she slowed to a halt outside of her brother’s room, she found the Duke of Stormhold there—once again.
His brow was furrowed, and his hair was mussed as though he had been roused. His eyes landed on her, alert and full of questions she could not answer.
She did not have time to notice the deep muscles disappearing beneath his waistband, for she could only see the unconscious footman on the floor, a bruise forming on his temple.
“This is…” she trailed off, stepping closer. “This footman was ordered to watch Nicholas. I—sometimes my brother has aches in the night, and night terrors from the war, of course. When he’s most disturbed, I order a footman to watch him, in case anything happens. In case he jumps out of the widow again.”
It was a feeble excuse, but the Duke only nodded, looking around the room grimly.
“He did not do a good job,” he noted, nodding ahead.
Edwina, her heart heavy and dread pooling in her stomach, stepped forward.
The window, which the Duke had repaired immediately, was open, leaving the curtains to billow in the night breeze.
Her brother had never hurt anyone to escape before—at least not that she knew of. He was that desperate to escape their home, to chase another high, to spiral further and further. She had not seen these levels of desperation since he had first become addicted.
“You will stay here tonight,” the Duke said. “I already know you are thinking of looking for him, but remember what happened last time. He came home to an empty house and drank himself almost to dea—” He broke off, frowning.
“I will go with you,” Edwina insisted. “I will not be told to stay here as though I cannot handle this situation, or myself. I have been handling it for a long time, Your Grace, and I will not hear a word about how I must stay here.”
“It is dangerous out there?—”
“And Lord Stockton stormed into Montgomery Manor while I was in it, so which do you prefer? I go with you and remain under your protection, or stay here alone?” She raised an eyebrow at him, meeting his stubbornness with her own.
“Your aunt?—”
“Is no help in a dangerous situation,” she snapped. “Do not patronize me, and do not tell me to stay here while you search for my brother. I will not, and that is final.”
She gave him another withering scowl before she stalked off down the hallway to change into a more appropriate dress, leaving him speechless.
When they were finally in the carriage and on their way to town, passing all the reputable establishments, Edwina was nervous at the sight of the shadier buildings, the rougher streets, and the men and women who peered at the carriage with interest. Yet, in her stubbornness, she refused to voice her concerns.
“Keep your head low,” the Duke told her. “And take off your jewelry before we leave the carriage. You must not give anyone a reason to notice you too hard.”
Edwina nodded, already familiar with this routine.
Her stomach churned. How could her brother willingly enter places like this? Edwina could not pretend to understand his addiction fully, but to think that it led him to places such as this part of town… it did not sit well with her.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“I did some digging yesterday,” the Duke began. “Some men made some suggestions about your brother’s whereabouts. First, we are going to Madam Molly’s.”
Edwina’s heart stopped. “You think my brother has knocked out a footman and escaped to visit a brothel ?”
“Men do far less for far more,” he answered her curtly.
She fell silent, uncomfortable.
After a brief pause, he continued, “For what it is worth, Lady Edwina, I do not think he goes to the brothel to use their services. Word is that he is only meeting other people there. Not women.”
Edwina tried to suppress her discomfort further as they rode to the brothel.
The Duke caught her gaze and refused to look away. “What do you know about Madam Molly’s?”
“Not a lot,” she admitted. For why would she?
He nodded grimly. “It is one of the most notorious brothels, and it is led by a steel-fisted woman who will not take well to having a duke sniffing around her establishment. Getting information out of her will be hard, but if she sees me with you, then she might be more amenable.”
Edwina felt the blood drain from her face. “Would my presence not be suspicious?”
“I do not think so,” he said. “Molly treats her girls well, so if she thinks you are distressed and searching for Nicholas, then her tongue might loosen. We might also learn where he goes daily. However, she is paid most handsomely by her male clients for the utmost discretion.”
“We will try our best,” Edwina insisted. “I will not leave my brother alone. Even if he has already returned, the information is still necessary.”
She did not add, for we might very well need it many more times .
“One thing I cannot ignore, though,” the Duke continued, “is why of all the places we have been told that your brother might be in, there is not one respectable place. Perhaps except for the Raven’s Den. But there is not even one well-reputed gentlemen’s club.”
Edwina bit her lip, knowing full well why, but she could not tell the Duke of Stormhold that.
Madam Molly’s was a darkly lit place, three levels of a townhouse that was bedecked in lavish, gold-accented furniture and paintings that depicted all manners of carnal positions. Lucien spared a fleeting glance at them and then guided Lady Edwina along.
“Do not speak to anyone,” he told her. “Unless it is the Madam herself.”
Eyes wide, Lady Edwina followed him. It was the wide-eyed, stunned look of a naive girl who had not seen the inside of a place such as this. Although the Duke had never indulged in such pastimes, he had pulled enough friends out of them over the years before they tarnished their titles.
Too many people passed them, curious looks from beneath lowered lashes, women who brushed too close, too eager.
Without thinking twice, Lucien reached out. With a growl, he wrapped an arm around Lady Edwina’s waist and led her to the office at the back of the hallway. He bypassed hopeful workers and stumbling clients who were holding out pouches of coins.
He knocked on the door, and it opened to reveal a busty, tall woman. Her hair was styled elegantly, like that of a lady of the ton. But Madam Molly was no lady of the ton. Her reputation was too sunken.
She looked Lucien up and down.
“It is not every day that a duke sullies his name by knocking on my door,” she purred. “ And with a lady on his arm. What sort of indulgences might I offer you, Your Grace?”
“I am not here to sully my name or indulge,” he bit out. “I request an audience with you for some information.”
At that, she narrowed her eyes, dropping the act. “I don’t give information, Your Grace. Indulging or not, you must know that.”
“It is regarding a man who has not solicited your girls’ services.”
At that, curiosity flickered in Madam Molly’s eyes. After a moment, she waved them both in and shut the door.
Lucien did not waste any time. “He comes here to meet with other lords. I am not sure why, but he knows that this place is protected from prying eyes.”
At Madam Molly’s silence, he took out a bag of coins. He tossed it onto her desk.
“There are two more of this, and I can promise that even one is enough to double anything your usual clients will pay for discretion. We do not seek to use this information against anyone or to bring trouble to your doorstep. We only seek the whereabouts of one man to ensure his safety.”
The Madam still did not look convinced. She was tough, he would give her that. Many in her position would not hesitate to rat out a client, thinking it would land her favor.
Lucien did not need to threaten her, though. If she refused, he would try somewhere else.
But he did not expect Lady Edwina to step forward.
“Madam Molly, I am Lady Edwina. His Grace and I would not be here if we were not desperate, but the man we are searching for is my brother, the Earl of Montgomery.”
Lucien noticed the moment recognition flickered in the Madam’s eyes at the title. He did not know why Nicholas would go to a brothel to conduct meetings—perhaps to avoid the allure of gambling, or perhaps to throw someone off a bigger scent. But for now, his main goal was to find the man.
“His disappearance is causing me great distress, and I have just about searched every establishment in London for him. Things are… escalating dangerously. I understand your duty of discretion and to protect your clients, but I must protect my brother.”
Perhaps it was the steel lacing Lady Edwina’s voice, or perhaps it was something softer in Madam Molly’s heart that finally made the woman cave in.
She eyed them both. “If I find out that either of you have used this information against any clients of mine, then I will ensure that the ton learns about your visit here. I warn you, it would not be an innocent tale.”
Her threat loomed large, and Lucien’s anger flared at it, but he tamped it down for Lady Edwina’s sake. He buried it in every crevice of his joints, tensing up at the discomfort.
Madam Molly simply sat down at her desk and wrote a brief note. She held out the piece of paper to Lady Edwina, who read it and thanked her.
Without wasting another moment in a place that, quite frankly, made Lucien feel scrutinized and dirty, the two walked out.
But as they passed the grand staircase leading into higher levels of the house, to more dens of debauchery, a man walked down the stairs, his jacket so shiny that it looked embroidered with gold.
Lucien immediately stiffened when the man’s eyes flicked to Lady Edwina.
“Well, well, you are indeed a delight of the evening!” he boomed. “I have not seen you here before.”
The anger Lucien had suppressed in Madam Molly’s office flared again, and he stepped towards the man, who held up his hands.
“Peace, friend. I only wish to sample her, as you have.”
“As I have?” Lucien growled. “Leave her be.”
“Are you so possessive?” The man laughed. “I admit, I do not recognize you by face alone, but I am sure we run in similar circles. I shall keep your secret if you keep mine. And this girl… she appears much finer than the other women. Whether they think they are above such employment, they still bend over the same, do they no?—”
He did not finish his sentence, for Lucien had slammed his fist into the man’s jaw and watched him stumble back. The man caught himself on the banister behind him, but Lucien was on him again, his fingers curled into the man’s jacket. He landed another blow, his breath coming in sharp bursts.
“Watch it!” the man shouted. “You do not own the girls or claim them. You would start a fight over a whore?”
Lucien saw red and was about to claim Lady Edwina’s innocence from such employment, to defend her reputation, when his wrist was caught.
Lady Edwina pleaded with him silently, her eyes wide and desperate. Lucien hesitated.
The door behind them opened, and Madam Molly herself appeared in the doorway. “You promised not to bring trouble to my doorstep,” she reminded him. “Leave before I make good on my threat.”
Lucien only fixed his sleeve cuffs and noticed the blood smeared there. He glared back at the man. “If you even breathe in her direction again, I will break every bone in your body.”
The man nodded in understanding, his gaze averted.
Lucien could not deny the accusation, lest he reveal Lady Edwina’s identity and blow their cover. She could not be recognized here.
Finally, they left, and once they were in the carriage, Lady Edwina cursed.
“What is it?” Lucien asked, his voice still clipped.
“The name Madam Molly gave was the Silver Gate, but she confirmed that Nicholas had come to her brothel and had not used the… the employees there.” Lucien saw how she tried to hide her relief. “Shall we look into the gambling hell together?”
“I already went there,” he said tightly. “It is where I did my digging yesterday.”
Lady Edwina glared at the space between them. “We have found nothing once again.”
“Then let me take you home,” Lucien said, leaving no room for protests. “No, do not let me, for I am doing it regardless.”
He signaled for the driver to take them back to Montgomery Manor.
Silence fell between them, and Lucien could not help but steal glances at Lady Edwina, wondering why he was so fiercely intent on defending her.
He had done such things for women before—his cousin Rose most often—but he had never felt this angry, this pressing need to act on his anger.
After a while, Lady Edwina sighed. “Do you always think violence solves everything?”
Lucien could not help but smirk at her. “It worked tonight, did it not?”
Her eyes narrowed, and he found himself weak in the face of the defiance in her eyes.
“It did, but it did not work with Nicholas. If anything, I believe your violence made him sneak out more to avoid you.”
“In fact, it was he who came for me first.”
“So you thought to respond with your fists?”
“Forgive me, My Lady, but when a man wild with hatred comes swinging at you and shows no signs of slowing down, I can hardly say, Oh, please let us discuss over tea, my old friend! ”
His sarcastic tone only made Lady Edwina narrow her eyes further.
She shook her head and turned to look out the window.
Lucien sighed. “Lady Edwina, I think it is time we involve the authorities. I have connections within the team of constables, and?—”
“Absolutely not.” Her outright, quick refusal caught him off guard. “No. And I will not hear another word of it.”