Page 56 of All Scot and Bothered
“Lord Luther Kenway, the Earl of Devlin.” He watched her expression with alert eyes, no doubt to gauge her reaction. “Does that name mean anything to ye? Is he one of yer customers?”
Cecelia shook her head, more in horror than denial. “I’m telling you once more, I have no idea. It is as much a mystery to me as it is to you where Henrietta’s client ledgers are. All I know is that Genny made new ones for today. There wouldn’t be more than a page, but it’s yours if you want it.”
“Ye doona find it odd, that Katerina was found so close to yer establishment?”
“I don’t know.” She was starting to sound like a parrot. A desperate one. “But I had nothing to do with it.”
“How do ye expect me to believe ye?” he asked. “Henrietta’s fortune had to be built with more than just the revenue from this place. I still think she procured young girls for wealthy men, and I’m not convinced I can take your word regarding your ignorance. Especially since ye’ve proven to have such an aptitude for performance.”
“I would never—”
“I doona want to hear it.” He turned toward the rubble and gazed at it intently. “I’ll comb through every stone, every passage. I’ll continue to dismantle this house until I find what it has to do with those missing girls.”
“I’m telling you, there is nothing to be found here!” She’d reached her limit of baseless accusations, and could take no more. “I’m sorry for these missing girls, more than you know. I will do what I can to help you find them. But on an unrelated note, I have a bevy of women and girls who are also in danger, do you understand? Peoplediedtoday, and so many more were injured. Not only the women who work in my gambling hell, but seamstresses and orphans and cable workers and widows. Every woman in this house is entitled to protection and justice. Every. Woman. Despite your hypocritical personal prejudices on the matter.”
He made a derisive gesture. “Better a hypocrite than a liar.”
“Are they not one and the same?”
He glared down at her, pulling his contemptible superiority about him like a mantle. “Principles are not prejudices, madam, and though I’m not perfect, I endeavor to be. I stand for something.” He thumped his chest with one beat of his fist. “I fight on the side of justice. I am a man of integrity and purpose with an empire to look after. What are ye but the warden in a gilded prison of slags andreprobates? I hope to see the rest of this place reduced to rubble; the very existence of it offends me!”
That’s it.The dam of Cecelia’s long temper broke. “What am I?” This time she advanced upon him. “What amI? I’m a woman of both intellect and compassion. Of morals and mercy, despite what you may think. You want to see something truly offensive? Go back to your lofty manse, Lord Chief Justice, put on your robes and your wig, and then take a good, long look in a mirror. If you’re even capable of doing so from where you’ve taken permanent residence up your own arse.”
His golden skin had previously flushed red with emotion and was now tinged with a bit of purple. Cecelia was grateful that she no longer stood near him, as she might have been immolated in the blast of fury and malice that emanated from him in waves.
To his credit, he said nothing. He did nothing but seethe.
Cecelia opened the door wider, too incensed to be afraid. “In case you were confused, that was an invitation to leave.”
He strode with the contained movements of a man carrying a device that might detonate at any moment. Smooth and slow until he reached her and paused beneath the arched threshold of the garden door.
He leaned into her, and his scent pervaded her senses with an intoxicating effect.
“Listen well, woman.” His voice was both jagged and smooth, like hot wax dripping over shards of glass. “Ye and yer ilk are a cancer on this country, and I’m the surgeon preparing to cut it out. Ye’re such a clever lass? Then ye’re smart enough to fear me. To watch for me. Because I’ve had it with the vice and violence. If ye’re evenconsidering a misstep, know that from now on I’ll be the hot breath down yer neck and the chill from the shadows. The moment I find thewhisperof guilt about ye, I’ll lock ye up and throw away the key.”
Cecelia stood still beneath his onslaught, her fists clenched upon the latch of the doorway flushing alternately with fury and fear and… fascination.
He leaned even closer, his breath indeed hot on her ear. “Ye’ll find, Miss Teague, that I’m a man without mercy.”
At that, he strode away, taking his atmosphere of frost with him.
“I knew that already,” Cecelia whispered, trembling as she listened to his measured footsteps fading as the rest of the chaos of the place engulfed her.
“It’s nothing to be proud of.”
CHAPTERNINE
Ramsay dripped with sweat. With blood. And still the insatiable animal rippling through his veins wouldn’t be appeased.
He’d fought anyone in his exclusive fraternal club who would dare stand against him, making the most ridiculous concessions just to entice a man to try. He allowed contenders almost twenty years his junior to take their bare fists to his face while he still wore his gloves. He gave them canes and sticks while he fought barehanded. What did he care? Court was out of session for several weeks more, and he had no reason to heed vanity.
He ached to hit something. Someone. Yearned to feel flesh give way beneath his fists. He needed someone to knock some sense into him. To summon the extreme focus that accompanied pain.
All too soon, there was no one left to fight. He’d defeated them all.
Until someone had called upon his brother.
He should thank whoever’d had that idea. Or take him out in the alley to be shot.
