Page 84 of Tender Blackguard

“The hell you say,” Marlowe exclaimed gruffly.

“I’m as shocked as you are,” Lowndes noted smoothly. “I was thinking Warfield might be able to explain the situation to us.”

As all eyes fell to Alastair, he returned their stares with a cold glare of his own. “How the blasted hell would I know anything about your men? And the last I saw of my housemaid, she was still tied and gagged in a locked room.” He eyed Lowndes with heavy suspicion. “Didn’t you say you’re the only one here with a key? How do we know you didn’t set them free? Or perhaps you decided you’d rather have the full profit they could bring in rather than sharing with the rest of us?”

Marlowe muttered something incoherent beneath his breath.

“He doesn’t even try to deny it,” Alastair noted with a growl. He allowed every bit of the fury and disgust he felt for these men to show in his face as he started for Lowndes. The longer he kept their focus on him, the more time Turner had to complete his search of the premises. He lowered his chin to say in a menacing tone, “I won’t be played for a fool, Lowndes.”

He lunged for the other man but was quickly grabbed from behind. Twisting his head, he saw that Altham and Hazelton had both taken hold of him to keep him from going after Lowndes.

“Calm yourself, Warfield,” Altham commanded harshly as he twisted Alastair’s arm behind him. “Lowndes has never betrayed us before and there’d be no reason for him to do so now.”

Though Alastair could’ve dropped both of them in a few quick moves, he refrained. Instead, he put up enough of a fight to require the full attention of every man in the room, without revealing his full abilities.

“Bloody hell,” Hazelton grunted as they managed to shove Alastair back down into the chair.

Continuing to fight and struggle as he glared daggers at Lowndes and shouted accusations at all four of them, he was eventually secured to the chair with some rope Lowndes fetched from the room where the women had been kept. The older men were breathing heavily from the physical exertion of containing Alastair, and though he hadn’t lifted a finger in the tussle, Marlowe swiped a handkerchief across his sweating brow.

As they caught their breath, a fiercely scowling Chesterfield entered the room. Shutting the door behind him, he admonished from between clenched teeth, “Keep it down in here. Buckley is desperately trying to keep our guests’ attention on revelry, but many of them are starting to wonder what’s going on.”

Lowndes glared at Alastair. “If we discover you’re behind this, Warfield, your life won’t be worth the boots you’re wearing.”

“Go to hell,” he retorted.

Lowndes ignored him to direct his gaze to Chesterfield. “Your Grace, why don’t you and Marlowe return to the drawing room. Say whatever you must to keep everyone calm and happy. We don’t want them suspecting a problem and running off just yet. Altham and Hazelton, search this building from top to bottom. The women may yet be found. You,” he said sharply, looking back to Alastair as the others left the room, “will stay right here with me until we have a better understanding of just what the hell is going on.”

“Wonderful.” Alastair sneered as the others left the room to do as they’d been instructed. “And just what shall we do if the women aren’t found? They could even now be running through the streets shouting for the authorities.”

“And what if they do?” Lowndes asked snidely. “We’re lords of the ton. Who’d believe hysterical maids over us?”

“You’re disturbingly confident considering the night is basically in shambles,” Alastair observed.

“Do you expect me to panic like those fools?” He scoffed. “You must realize by now that this whole operation was my idea. Those overindulged lords only ever thought of their own pleasures. They had no desire for anything more. No vision of greater things. None of them ever cared to invest their time or energy into making this a successful venture. They simply want to reap the rewards. Dryden may own this building but it belongs to me.” He gave an almost mournful shake of his head. “Shelbourne was the only one who understood. But he got careless and left himself with no way out. I assure you, I’m never careless and I always have a way out.”

The smug look on the other lord’s face was nearly enough to turn Alastair’s stomach. With unbelievable difficulty, he resisted the urge to curl his hands into fists. “You’d betray them without a second thought, wouldn’t you?”

Lowndes shrugged. “I prefer to think of it as self-preservation. Besides, if you truly had nothing to do to with the chits getting loose, then one of them has already betrayed me. That simply won’t be borne.”

Alastair forced himself to eye the lord with a hint of admiration. “You’re far more devious than I gave you credit for, Lowndes.”

The other lord smiled. “Yet here you are, learning all my secrets anyway. I knew you were a clever sort, Warfield. I almost hope this fiasco isn’t your fault. Because if it is”—he paused to slip a hand inside his coat and withdraw a small pistol, which he set within easy reach on his desk—“I’m afraid this will be the end of our friendship.”

Alastair took a deep breath, subtly testing the ropes that secured his hands to the chair. They’d likely hold. The chair itself was made of sturdy oak and wouldn’t break easily. Perhaps he should’ve fought harder to keep from being restrained.

All of a sudden, the sound of a sharp whistle cut through the building, followed by the distant echo of footsteps and multiple-voiced shouts.

Lowndes stiffened and a slight look of panic crossed his features as he rushed toward the door. After a very brief glance in the hall, he closed it again. Glaring daggers at Alastair, he asked, “What in hell have you done?”

Knowing exactly what the whistle indicated, Alastair strained against the ropes binding him to the chair as he met the other lord’s gaze with a scowling look of confusion. “What are you talking about? And what the devil was that sound?”

Lowndes stared back at him with a curious expression. Then he sighed. “It seems our friendship was destined for a tragic end. So be it.”

Lowndes turned to the narrow liquor cabinet behind the desk. After a moment, the cabinet swung open like a door. Reaching inside, Lowndes withdrew a small book not unlike the one he’d slipped into his desk drawer on Alastair’s arrival.

Without hesitation, he tossed the book into a bin beside the desk. Then, with a flourish, he picked up a small gas lamp from the desktop and tossed it in as well. The sound of shattering glass was accompanied by a sudden burst of flames leaping from the bin.

Alastair’s stomach turned as he realized Lowndes had likely destroyed a vital piece of evidence. Yet Turner had to have found something else to trigger the raid. If they didn’t have enough to hold everyone involved accountable, he had to hope at least Lowndes and the others in the brotherhood would face the consequences of their actions.

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