Chapter 19
“Are you sure no one saw us?” Helena asked, glancing worriedly over Evander’s shoulder and toward the door of her chambers.
“I swear it,” Evander promised, tugging the lapels of his jacket closer around the front of her ripped gown. “We took the servants’ stairs, which were empty, and Jeremy, I am sure, held the crowd’s attention while we were away. You have nothing to worry about, I promise you.”
Helena nodded, but the way she pressed her lips together and kept darting her eyes over his shoulder to check the door made it clear to Evander that the brief moment of relief he had given her in the library was gone, and her worries had returned with full force.
“He is not going to come here,” Evander said, keeping his tone calm as he smoothed a hand up to the nape of Helena’s neck and gave her a comforting squeeze.
He loved the way her lashes fluttered as he did so; how she trusted him completely to apply just enough pressure to comfort her.
“Lord Ingram. That is who you are thinking of, is it not?”
Helena lowered her gaze, then nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I know you said you would take care of it, but the things he said to me, Evander… I do not know that anyone could stop him. He just seems so… determined.”
Evander leaned down until they were face to face and waited patiently for her to lift her eyes to his.
“He is not the only man here who is determined,” he assured her, stroking his thumb lovingly over her pulse. “Do not underestimate a beast, Helena.”
“Do not call yourself that.” Helena’s face turned into a frown.
He leaned in to her, brushing his lips over hers in a soft kiss. The fierceness with which she defended him made his heart soar.
“Rest now,” he gently commanded, rising up to his full height as he let go of her throat.
Helena’s eyes flicked to her empty bed, and a blush stole across her cheeks as she looked back at him bashfully.
“Would you… lie down with me?” she asked timidly.
He wanted to. So very badly did he want to remove the rest of her clothes and his, and draw her into his arms under the covers. He would, too. Soon enough. But not in that moment. There was just one more thing he needed to take care of.
“Soon,” he promised, and dipped his head to give her one more long, sensual kiss. “Soon we will be together, and no one will get in our way.”
He did not miss the look of disappointment in Helena’s eyes, and he silently vowed to make up for not fulfilling her request. In the future, he intended to spoil Helena terribly, but for now, there was some work that required him to suppress his more human side and give in to the beast that years of torment had shaped within him.
“Where is he?” Evander asked Jeremy casually as he met him on the stairs. “Lord Ingram.”
“In the gaming room playing cards,” Jeremy replied, falling into step beside him. “Did he upset Helena terribly?”
“No matter. We will take care of him tonight according to plan,” Evander said. “What about the other guests?”
Jeremy smirked.
“You know how well I can influence a party,” he stated proudly. “I convinced nearly everyone to partake in a drinking game of sorts. Most of the guests headed to their rooms about an hour ago.”
Evander chortled, not at all surprised.
“And who is in the gaming room?” Evander asked as they reached the first floor.
“I left Lord Ingram playing cards with Adrian and Damien. I did not tell them everything, but they know just enough to make their blood boil. They are waiting for my signal to leave.”
“Excellent,” Evander murmured, pushing open the door to the gaming room with an excited flourish.
Lord Ingram, being the spineless coward he was, jumped at the sudden sound, but Adrian and Damien simply raised their brows as they kept their eyes on their cards.
“Finally taking time to play a hand, are you, brother?” Adrian mused dryly as Evander took a seat. “You graced Mother and Elara with breakfast, but have spared no time for your little brother.”
“We will have time to catch up. Tonight, I thought it was time I placed a wager,” Evander quipped.
Behind them, Jeremy rapped his knuckles softly against the wall twice. Adrian snapped his cards into a neat pile and put them face down on the table.
“Well, then you can take my place,” Adrian said, rising from his chair.
Lord Ingram’s gaze shot up from his cards, not even trying to hide his annoyance.
“You are leaving?” he asked. “In the middle of our game?”
Evander’s eyes slid to his brother, just in time to see him smirk.
“The hour grows late, and let us be honest, Ingram, I would rather spend the night with my wife than you,” he said with a shrug. “No offense, Evander.”
Ingram’s look of annoyance grew into a disgusted sneer.
“I thought you were a man, Mason. Not one to be yoked by his woman,” he said with distaste.
“Clearly, you do not know how delightful it is to be yoked by a woman, then, Ingram,” Damien spoke up as he put his cards down and rose from the table. “I am out as well. As Adrian said, I would rather spend the night with my wife than with your ugly mugs.”
Evander did not even try to hide his smirk as he watched his friends’ barbs land hard on Ingram’s delicate ego.
“Give my love to Bridget and Caroline,” Evander called to his friends as they left the room with Jeremy.
Lord Ingram looked over Evander’s shoulder to watch the other men go, the disappointment in their departure clear on his face.
“Should we shuffle the deck and start a new hand?” Evander offered, tapping his brother’s cards.
Lord Ingram’s eyes flicked to him and narrowed.
“I do not much feel up to playing with you, Your Grace,” he said bitterly. “Respectfully speaking, of course.”
Evander’s lips twitched as his rage slowly slithered back into his veins. He was very much looking forward to what was about to happen.
“That is fine,” he said, pushing the cards to the center of the table. “I do not feel much like playing with you either. I would rather discuss something far more… lucrative.”
The annoyance on Ingram’s face shifted quickly to curiosity as he sat up a little straighter in his seat.
Evander wagered that the man responded to money, and by the way he quickly shifted temperaments, he was right.
He had also wagered that the man knew how well his investments were doing and would not turn down the opportunity to be brought into it.
“Lucrative, you say?” Ingram asked.
“Indeed,” Evander agreed, forcing a charming smile. “I have heard good things about your trade ships. You were partners with the late Lord Robinson, were you not?”
Ingram nodded his head eagerly.
“That is right, and though I do not mean to speak ill of the dead, it was my routes and trade plans that made our joint venture the success it was,” he replied, his chest puffing with pride.
Evander knew it was a lie. What little his sources had gathered for him indicated that.
The proof was in the paperwork he had received, and it was clear that Helena’s father’s ideas and actions made their ship routes so profitable.
And even though he knew parts of their business were shady, Evander understood this was a mystery to solve another time.
“Yes,” Evander agreed calmly, crossing one leg over his knee.
A glint of metal caught his eye, but he did not dare look at it.
Not yet. “I heard you have even taken care of Mrs. Robinson and her children after your business partner’s unfortunate passing.
I find that quite admirable. Not every man would be willing to take on such a burden. ”
Ingram’s smile was cocky as he leaned forward, braced his forearms on the table, and pressed his palms. At once, Evander noticed the deep scratches on the man’s knuckles and the back of his hands.
Evander’s eye began to twitch as he thought of how Ingram surely got those scratches, and what he had done to deserve them.
Helena and her mother had fought, and even though he was near his point of consuming rage, Evander felt pride for his bride-to-be.
“It is a heavy burden,” Ingram went on. “But it comes with advantages.”
Disgust joined Evander’s rage, but after years of learning how to hide his pain, he put on a mask of debaucherous interest.
“Do tell,” he encouraged, subtly sliding his hand down his calf, his fingers inching toward the bit of metal showing at his ankle.
“Women of their caliber…” Ingram readily explained. “Women so used to being spoiled and rich are willing to do anything to keep themselves in the lap of luxury.”
Ingram leaned forward a little more, his smile positively wicked as he splayed his hands on the table. “And I mean anything.”
Evander perked a brow, showing just enough interest to keep Ingram talking.
“Are you telling me you convinced Lady Robinson to let you into her bed?” Evander asked.
“Oh, not just the mother,” Ingram replied enthusiastically. “Soon I shall have the daughter as well.”
Evander’s grip tightened on his calf, his fingers biting and bruising his own flesh so as not to give himself away too easily.
“Miss Robinson is willing to do that? Even as she is about to be married?” Evander asked. “How on earth did you persuade her to do so?”
Ingram’s chuckle was a sound of pure evil as that dark lust filled his eyes.
“Oh, she feigns not to want it, but she will,” Ingram replied. “Ripe little maidens like her? They want to be plucked by someone more experienced. They may fight and say otherwise, but I know better. Once I get my hands on her, I will—”
Evander gripped the hilt of his knife and slammed the blade through Ingram’s hand, unable to hear any more of his vile words.
He was so quick that Ingram had no chance to understand what was happening or even to move.
Even after the dagger nailed his hand to the green felt playing table, he still looked as if he struggled to comprehend what had just happened to him.
Silent seconds ticked by as Evander watched recognition slowly fill Ingram’s eyes.
His ruddy face bled out its color, leaving him pale, and his lips dropped open in a silent O as his gaze dropped and widened at the sight of his impaled, bleeding hand.
Then he screamed. The sound was high-pitched and feminine.
At once, Evander struck again, punching him hard across the face.
“I do not want to see you talking to them any more,” Evander calmly commanded as he drew his kerchief from his pocket and began to patiently clean Ingram’s blood from his knuckles.
“I do not even want to see you breathing next to them. To me. To Mrs. Robinson, and especially to Helena. In fact, you will stay far, far away from them. Do you understand? Send whatever amount they owe you to my accountant, and it will be paid posthaste. Those women are in your debt no longer.”
Ingram’s mouth opened and closed several times before he finally croaked out, “Why?”
“Because men like you disgust me,” Evander snarled.
He reached for the hilt of the dagger and wiggled, causing Ingram to let out another painful cry before he quickly muffled it.
“Consider this a warning,” Evander said, jiggling the hilt for emphasis. “You come near them again. You even dream of them, I will cut off both of your hands. You can take this as the word of a beast.”
Rage bled through the pain etched in Ingram’s face as his lips drew back in a sneer, revealing blood-coated teeth.
“Why are you so concerned about them instead of Helena’s betrothed?
Is it that he is that weak? Or that you like being the hero that much?
Remember where that landed you last time?
” Ingram asked. He let out a bitter laugh, sending flecks over the table.
“Your caring for others nearly killed you, so why would you bother with her?”
Evander shot forward, snatching a fistful of Ingram’s hair at the back of his head and wrenching it back until the man let out another cry.
“Helena is mine,” he snarled into Ingram’s face. “And I would kill and die for her in the same breath. Would you like to test that vow?”
Ingram sneered as he looked away from Evander’s infuriated gaze, and Evander quickly rewarded the disrespectful slight with a harsh backhand that sent Ingram’s head snapping to the side.
“Well?” he snarled, yanking hard at Ingram’s hair. “Would you like to test it?”
“No,” Ingram gritted out, blood now seeping from his nose, mouth, and hand. “Please.”
Evander let go of him with a shove, one that would have sent the man toppling backward if he had not been pinned to the table.
Ingram let out another wail, then, after he regained his balance, he reached for the hilt of the dagger and tried to free himself.
It did not budge. For a moment, Evander thought of leaving him like that and forcing the man to struggle to pull out the dagger that impaled his hand.
He thought better of it, though, deciding he wanted the man out of the house as soon as possible.
Evander gripped the hilt of the dagger and, with one swift pull, freed it and Ingram and carefully wiped it clean with his kerchief. He took his time, making sure there was nothing left of the vile man on the blade before he slid it back into its sheath.
“Now,” Evander said chipperly, his smile wide and genuine as he watched Ingram move in a panic to stop his bleeding with his own kerchief. “Allow me to escort you out of this house.”