Page 53 of The Games Lovers Play
“Well”—Biggs frowned—“you have to admit it’s possible.”
“No,” Therese stated. “It’s not! Howdareyou suggest such a thing?”
A stir at the door had everyone glancing in that direction.
His greatcoat flapping, Devlin strode in.
Therese almost wilted with relief. He’d come.Thank God.Despite her firm belief that she could manage almost any situation in the ton, this incident was proving beyond her.
Calmly, Devlin walked to her side, took her hand, and raised it to his lips. “My lady.” Then he set her hand on his arm and looked at Child, then at Martin; he didn’t look at Biggs or his men. “What’s this about?”
His lazy, faintly bored, aristocratic drawl effortlessly exerted absolute control over the room and all its occupants.
Unsurprisingly, Therese was the least affected. “Mr. Biggs”—she indicated the manager with a wave—“acts for the owners of this place.” She still felt that point was important, although she’d yet to fathom why. “Mr. Biggs refuses to accept that Martin is who he says he is and, on those grounds, has refused to accept Martin’s IOU. He—Biggs—insists that he will continue to hold Martin prisoner until his identity can be vouched for by someone Biggs or his staff recognize.” She drew breath and went on, “Rather than accept my word or Child’s on the matter, Mr. Biggs instead questioned my identity and Child’s as well on the grounds that neither he nor his men recognize us.”
“I see.” Rather than sounding soothing, the quietly spoken words fell into the silence like a prelude to violence.
Devlin finally looked at the manager—Biggs—and was delighted to see that the man had paled. He possessed some self-protective instincts, then.
Bad enough the situations he’d imagined on the short journey there, but on approaching the room and hearing Therese’s tones of outrage, his hold over his instinctive impulses had grown even more frayed. Exceedingly aware of how close to the edge of some regrettable action he stood, Devlin captured Biggs’s gaze and silkily inquired, “Do you—or your men—recognize me?”
Biggs swallowed and bobbed his head. “Yes, my lord.”
“Excellent. In that case, allow me to tell you that the gentleman to your left is, indeed, Mr. Martin Cynster, of the Walkhurst branch of that family.” Devlin arched a brow at Biggs. “I assume that you therefore perceive no further impediment to accepting Mr. Cynster’s IOU?”
Biggs bobbed again and managed a sickly smile. “Naturally not, my lord.” He cut a sidelong glance at Martin and cautiously nodded. “Always happy to extend credit to a Cynster.”
Devlin resisted the urge to shake his head. There was something—many things—distinctly strange about the entire situation. A question he’d asked himself on the way from Alverton House rose in his mind. “Incidentally, how much was the debt?”
Biggs paled to a pasty hue. He glanced at Martin as if preserving Martin’s privacy was suddenly high in his mind.
His expression stony, Martin supplied, “One hundred pounds.”
One hundred pounds?Devlin swallowed his surprise, but clearly, his instincts hadn’t lied. There was something far beyond the obvious going on.
“One last point before we leave,” Devlin said, allowing veiled menace to color his voice, “just in case the question should ever arise, allow me to confirm that this gentleman”—with a languid wave, he indicated Child—“is, indeed, Lord Grayson Child, son of the Duke of Ancaster. And this lady”—he allowed his features to soften as he smiled at Therese—“is most definitely Lady Alverton, my wife.”
Devlin shifted his gaze to Biggs, who now looked positively ill.
The man had the sense to bow deeply. “My apologies, my lady. My lords.” He straightened and bit his lip, no doubt wisely holding back a false protestation that he couldn’t have known.
For Devlin’s money, the man should have known and not just about Therese and Child. But his immediate goal was to remove Therese—and Martin and Child—from the building. “Now that your lack of knowledge has been rectified, Biggs, we’ll take our leave. Martin?” Devlin caught the younger man’s eye.
Martin took a moment to resettle his coat, a subtly contemptuous gesture that made Devlin inwardly smile, then without a single glance at Biggs or his hulking henchmen, crossed to a side table, picked up the hat and cane that had lain there, and unhurriedly joined Devlin and Therese.
With her free hand, Therese reached out and gripped her brother’s sleeve.
Smoothly, Devlin slid his arm from hers and turned, putting his back to Biggs, and waved Therese and Martin toward the door.
Therese immediately started questioning Martin on his treatment at Biggs’s hands. Child fell in beside Devlin, and they followed brother and sister from the room.
In the dim corridor, Child caught Devlin’s eye and arched a skeptical brow.
Devlin shook his head and murmured, “Wait until we’re outside.”
Chapter 9
Therese and Martin led the way to the front door. They stepped outside, then halted on the narrow pavement.
