“Don’t help. I’m through with you meddling. Feed the pig. That’s all.”
“But—”
“Feed the pig.”
For a moment, Temple thought Chase might ignore the instructions and meddle anyway, but the club’s majordomo appeared at their shoulders. “We’ve a visitor.”
For a moment, Temple thought it might be Mara. “Who?”
“Christopher Lowe. Here to fight Temple.”
Chase’s gaze narrowed. “Bring him to my offices. And fetch Asriel and Bruno. He’ll get his fight. But it won’t be with Temple. And it won’t be fair.”
“No.” Temple said.
Chase looked to him. “Your arm isn’t healed.”
“Bring him to me,” Temple said, ignoring his partner’s words. “Now.”
Within minutes, Lowe was on the floor of the club, flanked by Bruno and Asriel. “You made a mistake in coming here.”
“You turned my sister into a whore.”
Temple’s good hand fisted, and he desperately wanted to destroy this boy. “Your sister is going to be my duchess.”
“I don’t care what she will be. I’ve no use for her.” The words were slurred and angry. Lowe had been drinking, possibly since he’d left his sister the night before. “You ruined her. Probably did twelve years ago. Probably took all the valuable bits before you passed out.”
Fury flared. “You should not be allowed to breathe the same air she breathes.”
Lowe’s gaze narrowed. “She sent me away, you know. With a few shillings. Barely enough to get me from the city.”
“And you lost it.”
Lowe did not have to admit it. Temple could see it in the boy’s face before he whined, “What was I to do? Head off to make my fortune with three shillings? She wanted me to wager it. She wished me to lose.” His eyes turned hateful. “Because of you. Because you turned her into your whore.”
Temple’s desire to destroy Lowe grew with every word. “Call her a whore again, and I shall make your poverty the least of your concerns.”
Drink and desperation made Lowe stupid enough to smile at that. “Then you will fight me? I get my chance at my debt, you get your chance to protect my sister’s honor?” He stilled. “Where is the bitch, anyway?”
Fury came hot and instant, and Temple grabbed Lowe’s wilted cravat in his good hand, lifting him clear off the floor before saying, “You should have taken the chance she gave you. You should have run. I promise you, whatever you face out there is nothing compared to what I shall do to you in the ring.”
Temple dropped the other man in a heap to the ground, ignoring the coughing and sputtering from below as he followed him down, crouching, taking Lowe’s chin in hand and tilting him up to face him. “Get yourself a second. I’ll meet you in the ring in a half an hour.” If he couldn’t have her, he could have his fight. Temple stood, adding, “You’re lucky I don’t lay you out here and now. It will teach you to speak ill of the woman I love.”
“Cor! Listen to that! You love her,” Lowe sneered. “What utter shite.”
Temple did not look back, instead stalking away, heading for his rooms, already removing his cravat. The casino was silent as a grave, all the gamers having stopped their bets to watch Temple go mad.
Because of that, he heard it when Chase said quietly, “Well.”
He did not turn back, instead calling over his shoulder, “Feed the damn pig.”
When Mara arrived at The Fallen Angel, it was to a street virtually empty of people and noise, the opposite of how she imagined the exterior of one of London’s most exclusive gaming hells would be.
She wondered, fleetingly, if she was too late. If Temple had closed the club and left. If he’d decided to end this underground life of his and return to the light. Return to his dukedom. Return to his right.
That’s when panic set in.
Because in the damp, dark day, while she’d had nothing to do but walk and think, she’d realized that she loved this man beyond measure. And that she would do everything she could, for as long as she could, to make his life better than it ever would have been without her.
Of course, the moment she realized that, she realized that she was very very far away from the Angel.
But she was here now, and when she arrived, she knocked on the door, thrilled when a little slot opened in the steel. She stepped up to the space and said, “Hello. I am—”
The slot slid shut.
She hesitated, considering her next move. Knocked again. The slot opened. “I am here—”
The slot closed once more.
Honestly. Was every person having to do with this club obstinate? She knocked again. The slot opened. “Password.”
She paused at that. “I don’t—have one. But—”
The slot closed with a snap.
And that’s when Mara became angry. She began to bang on the door. Loudly. After a long moment, the little slot opened, the black eyes inside narrowed with irritation.
“Now look here, you!” she announced in her very best governess voice, underscoring her words with banging on the door.