Page 50 of The Devil Himself
Luc smacked Julian’s arm. “You are the laziest bastard I know.”
“Indubitably.” Julian took the words as if they were praise. “I pride myself on being completely useless.”
They all laughed at that, but Jules did separate from them immediately when they arrived at the Devil’s Playground, hieing off to find Harris and ask for a private room where he could have a brandy and take his boots off. His job was done until the dawn meeting in a full day from this moment.
Luc and Rys, on the other hand, stayed on the gambling floor, waiting to see what would happen, whether or not Daffyd would arrive to make the arrangements for the duel.
They waited several hours, playing whist with a couple of acquaintances of Luc’s and watching the floor. Just when he thought nothing was going to come of their business for the evening, Rys’s brother Daffyd arrived rather more quietly than Luc expected.
There was no striding in and blustering, chest out, face red because he’d been drinking liquid courage. Daffyd slunk into the club, shoulders rounded, his face down, his eyes peering out from under his eyebrows as if he couldn’t quite lift his head.
“That is not the look of a man who is full of bravado, is it?” Rys murmured. Their companions glanced up, taking Daffyd in. All of them had heard about what had happened at Beechwood’s ball. “Shall we leave you the table, gentlemen?” one fellow asked.
“Please. We appreciate it.” Rys passed each one of the men a small packet of pound notes for their trouble, and they gathered their things and left Luc and Rys sitting, waiting for Daffyd.
Daffyd sidled over to the table and fell into a chair with none of his usual dramatic flair. In fact, he appeared exhausted.
“He’s not going to meet Warrington, you know,” he said by way of hello.
“Is he not?” Rys raised an eyebrow, seemingly cool and utterly emotionless, his gray eyes gleaming with calculation. Luc had to admire him for it because he knew that inside, Rys had to be seething. This whole situation was excruciating, even though Rys never let on. It had to be to see one’s family tearing themselves apart like a pack of wolves. Again.
“No. He’s going to kill Gareth.”
Luc started to pop up out of his seat, but Rys grabbed him and pulled him back down. “Explain to me exactly what you mean. No prevarication.” It was a clear demand. “We have men watching him, and they’ve sent no word.”
“I would imagine that’s because Arthur’s putting about the rumor that he’s leaving for the continent in order to avoid the duel. Then he plans to try to shake your men so he may go down to school and kill Gareth outright. I tried to convince him—” Daffyd cut off, shrinking into himself. “I would never hurt Gareth. I swear. I just wanted to marry Hannah to control the money.”
Now Rys did stand. “When did he leave?” His tone was deadly quiet.
“He has a two-hour head start on you, and he’s on horseback. He did have to pretend to head for the coast, so that will slow him down.”
Rys slammed his hand down on the table, the sound cracking like a shot, cards and coins jumping. He leaned forward to put his face near Daffyd’s. “Damnation. Why didn’t you come and tell us about this before now?”
“Because I didn’t have the courage.” Daffyd spread his hands. “I may have conspired with him to marry Hannah and take overthe boy’s fortune, but I swear to you, Rys, I had nothing to do with Angelsey getting shot or you getting stabbed. I didn’t know that he had arranged that. I suspected, and I should have said something to you, but it suited my purposes. I thought it would make you stop digging into this whole affair. After all, why would you? You didn’t care for Owen any further than I did.”
“No. You have that backward. Owen didn’t care for me any more than you did. But he was my brother, and his son has no choice in all of this. You have until the time I get back to Town to be gone for good, whether to the continent or one of the colonies. I don’t care, but if I know that you’re still in England, I will track you down, and I will kill you.”
Luc felt a chill run up his spine, because this was the Devil Himself speaking. Rys meant every word.
Daffyd didn’t even question that. He simply nodded, his gray gaze so like Rys’s, haunted. He stood, giving them a half bow. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
“Get out of my sight,” Rys told him.
Daffyd turned on his heel and strode away.
“Harris!” Rys’s voice cut through the din of the gaming floor.
Rys’s second-in-command appeared like smoke. “What is it? I saw your brother.”
“Arthur is on the road. He intends to kill my nephew.”
Harris frowned. “The men report he’s on his way to the coast.”
“It’s a decoy. I need fast horses so we can get on the High Road and get to Gareth. I promised I would keep him safe.”
Harris nodded sharply. “I’ll have them brought from the mews.” He was gone in a heartbeat.
Rys turned to him. “I’ll pack us a bag. Are you ready to ride?”
