Page 66 of A Whisper of Desire
Maitland turned his head and beckoned for her to lean forward. She was sitting behind him, watching the table over his shoulder. She leaned forward and flung her arms round his neck. He whispered into her ear, “We may be here a bit longer than I thought. The house has started cheating.”
Kissing his cheek, she returned his whisper. “Can you still win?”
“Of course, but it might take a bit longer, and it means Francis has been alerted to my winnings. Stay near me, as there could be trouble.”
The tension evident in his shoulders saw her massaging his neck without realizing she was doing it. Then movement in the adjoining room caught her eye. Her hands stopped the massage and began to squeeze hard instead. Maitland finally looked up. She nodded toward the door.
Arend was here. Maitland followed her stare and reached back to squeeze her hand, pulling her forward. She bent her head to hear him.
“If Arend’s here, it means Angelo’s back. Don’t leave that seat.”
Arend didn’t come into the gaming room. He was still in the drawing room, where she could hear another sex performance starting.
An idea struck. Perhaps Arend could be persuaded to find the boys. She sat back in her seat, chewing on her bottom lip, wondering how to get Arend’s attention. She hoped he’d come to the gaming room.
Rather than following the cards, her eyes remained glued to the door. Her hopes rose when she saw Arend heading toward the gaming room, but before he could reach them, a man intercepted him.
The stranger was fair-haired and tall. Broad-shouldered. She couldn’t make out his features, but the man seemed to know Arend.
Arend appeared to be having a heated conversation with the man. When Arend made to move round him, the man grabbed his arm, and she watched Arend angrily shake him off. To her horror, the man simply followed Arend into the gaming room.
When Arend reached her side he ignored her completely and bent to speak to Maitland.
At the start of this charade, they had discussed a plan, should Angelo return to the club before they had completed their task. Arend had been pretty sure Francis would send word to his boss about Maitland being at the club and winning. Hence, tonight would be the only night they had to break the house.
If Angelo returned, their plan was for Arend to make a scene, trying to get Maitland to leave the club. He would push Marisa away while they argued, to indicate that Arend was not happy that his friend was in a Molly club.
They hoped this would allay Angelo’s fear about this being a planned strategy, and mean he’d let Maitland continue to play another night.
Arend’s push when it came was harder than she’d been expecting, and before she could grab hold of Maitland, her chair tipped over backward, and in a tangle of arms and legs she crashed to the floor. Her head hit the wooden edge of the chair’s back and pain slammed into her skull.
Maitland cursed and surged to his feet, pushing Arend out of his way.
The young lad from last night was bending to pick her up. “No one touches him except me.” Everyone stopped playing and silence hung in the air along with the cheroot smoke. “Arend, collect my winnings, if you please. We are leaving.”
A sound akin to a moan came from between her lips and her face was as pale as ice. Everything within him screamed to get her out of this club.
As he was lifting her into his arms a man said, “It would appear His Grace is leaving. Such a pity, when he was on such a long winning streak.” Amusement filled the words. “Perhaps it is just as well, or I may have had to ask a duke to leave my club.” The tone, in an instant, turned icy.
Maitland couldn’t care less. He simply pushed past the man he assumed was Angelo and made for the exit. Arend stayed to scoop up his winnings.
“Is he all right?” the young man asked, as Maitland made his way to the entrance.
Maitland merely nodded. The young lad followed. When they reached the door, two of Angelo’s men barred their exit. Marisa was stirring in his arms and he wanted to leave before she protested their sudden departure.
“Get out of the way,” Maitland growled at the towering masses before him.
Marisa wriggled and her eyes kept fluttering closed. “Get Clarence,” she whispered, and she tried to reach for the young lad behind him.
Angelo barked something at the lad before turning to confront Maitland.
Maitland kept his gaze focused on the club owner, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the lad push something into Marisa’s hand.
“Don’t ever return to my club, Your Grace. I’m only letting you leave now because I understand this idea was probably Arend’s.” With Marisa in his arms, Maitland could do nothing as Angelo reached out and stroked Marisa’s face. “So like her brother.”
Bloody hell. Angelo knew whom he held in his arms. Maitland cursed out loud.
Angelo moved in close to whisper quietly. “Did you think you could fool me? Your wife is the image of Lord Coldhurst, and I know he does not have any brothers.” He clicked his fingers at the two men guarding their exit. “You can leave. I don’t want to see either of you here again.”
