Page 46 of Rakes & Reticules
He had both Huxleys monitored so closely they couldn’t pass wind or belch without Fletcher hearing about it. He’d have to give the viscount credit for patience. The man wasn’t in a hurry to show his hand.
Fletcher didn’t believe for an instant his lordship had decided to cut his losses.
No, Huxley was up to something and merely bid his time.
But why target Fletcher’s establishments?
London boasted dozens of other gaming and social clubs.
This attack seemed personal, but why?
Could Fletcher convince Samantha to confide in him before Huxley acted?
And how long could Siobhan maintain her fawning ruse before the viscount presumed to pressure her for more? She’d likely punch him in the nose or kick him in the rear for overstepping.
Fletcher waved a pesky bee away, drawing Siobhan’s attention.
She curved her mouth upward before presenting her pert profile and watching the passing scenery once more.
He’d been unable to resurrect his ire toward her.
In fact, his desire to protect her and her brother and sister had become paramount, though until this situation with Huxley was behind him, he refused to consider why that was. Fletcher never should have convinced Siobhan to participate in the scheme to catch Huxley, but it was too late now, and there was no turning back.
Should Huxley become suspicious, he might well retreat and delay months to strike again.
Fletcher was good and done with waiting and worrying, which was why he’d decided to go on the offensive. Tonight, he intended to pressure Samantha to see if he couldn’t break through her battlements. He had another trick up his sleeve too. One that was extremely risky, but if it played out as he intended…
He’d have to wait and see if his instincts were spot on.
It was probably past time to apprise Father of the ongoings.
Fletcher did not doubt that Huxley would attempt to use his position to escape consequences once caught. Having Father on board and exerting his influence might become necessary—which meant writing a letter to Father explaining the situation and asking him to come to town because Fletcher could not leave London at present.
Too much was at stake.
The urgency thrumming through him to have the matter done once and for all had much to do with the three people sitting opposite—one spirited Irish lass in particular.
A confirmed bachelor who enjoyed the company of many women without regret, he’d begun to consider a much different future—one he’d never envisioned but which grew in appeal with each passing day.
A future with Siobhan—even if she didn’t know it yet.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Three evenings later
De la Chance’s ballroom
Quarter past ten
Fletcher perused the teeming ballroom for a sign of either Huxley. Satisfaction ought to fill him at the number of people in attendance, but instead, frustration beat in unison with the pulse in his temple as he strode toward Siobhan seated along one wall.
As she didn’t know how to dance—something he intended to rectify soon—she feigned a twisted ankle to explain her refusal to partner with the many men who approached her for the privilege. That way, she could still keep Huxley company should he put in an appearance.
Resplendent in an ivory and sky-blue gown, she fairly took Fletcher’s breath away. With every passing day, he marveled at the captivating little bundle of femininity. He’d begun to find excuses to seek her out, and even Darius had taken note, though his brother merely raised a cocky eyebrow as he slid his mouth into an irony-filled grin.
Siobhan, on the other hand, though polite, remained aloof and reserved, watching Fletcher with her unfathomable blue, blue eyes brimming with doubt and mistrust. Somehow, he must overcome her hesitancy. A task not easily accomplished after she’d witnessed his darker nature, but a mission he was determined to triumph at.
The Huxleys hadn’t visited Fletcher’s clubs since Siobhan met the viscount.
