Girding her loins for battle, as the saying went, she set out for the gaming club on St. James Street. She wore a veil and hid behind the anonymity of a closed carriage, and she took O’Malley with her for protection. But still she felt strangely tense as she mounted the front steps to the house and raised the door knocker.
Some ladies considered it a fashionable diversion to attend a gaming hell, but she had never done so, unwilling to risk her reputation when she was so close to achieving her goal of marrying into the nobility.
Now she had far less to lose. So why did she feel as if she were engaged in a forbidden sin, her heart beating as if she had run a great distance? She didn’t like to think it was in anticipation of seeing her husband again. More likely, her erratic pulse was caused by her remembrance of the passionate night she’d recently spent here in Kell’s bed.
A brute of a doorman opened the door. His hulking frame resembled O’Malley’s, but this man might once have been a pugilist, for his nose was set crookedly and he was missing a front tooth.
She wasn’t required to deal with him, however, for a stately majordomo appeared directly.
“May I help you, madam?” the august servant queried.
“I am Mrs. Lasseter. I should like to speak to my husband.”
A flash of surprise and disapproval crossed his face before he schooled his features to impassivity. “I will ask if Mr. Lasseter is receiving.”
Refusing to be rebuffed, Raven stepped inside. “I prefer not to be kept waiting on the doorstep.”
“Very well, madam. If you will come with me.”
She followed him, not upstairs as she expected, but to the nether reaches of the large gaming house. Along the way, she passed several elegant chambers, similar to those of the more famous gentlemen’s clubs like White’s and Boodle’s she had heard described: a library boasting gleaming mahogany shelves lined with leather-bound tomes; a large dining room with several tables set with gleaming crystal and china; three smaller rooms arranged, possibly, for private games of cards; and finally what must be the public gaming room, where vast fortunes were won and lost.
Raven would have liked to explore the gaming room, but her curiosity would have to wait. She had to quell her surprise, however, when she found herself in the kitchens, of all places.
Despite the chill of the winter day, the room was warm from the great hearth fire and ovens. Kell was seated at a worktable, dressed in breeches and a flowing white cambric shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to expose muscular forearms, while his collar was opened at the neck to reveal the soft whorls of black hair that sprinkled his chest.
Raven came up short at the unmistakably pleasant shock that rippled along her spine. She kept forgetting how strikingly handsome he was, despite the harshness of his features and the scar that marred his high cheekbone.
Then he looked up and his dark eyes met hers. The ripple turned to a sizzle, with all the impact of a bolt of lightning. Raven had difficulty catching her breath, very much like when she had interrupted him at his bath.
“Mrs. Lasseter, sir,” the majordomo said.
“Thank you, Timmons. That will be all.”
The servant’s exit left them alone, for the kitchen staff was nowhere to be seen, Raven realized.
It was then she noticed the deadly blade in Kell’s hand, which he was polishing with a cloth. Any number of weapons, both rapiers and pistols, lay spread across the table-
“What are you doing?” she was startled into asking. Her heart leapt to her throat as she thought of the most likely possibility.
“I prefer to care for my own weapons,” Kell replied, his face inscrutable.
“You aren’t preparing for a duel? Halford hasn’t challenged you?”
His eyebrow rose at the obvious panic in her voice. “Not as yet. Did you expect him to?”
Raven’s hand went to her breast in relief. “I wasn’t certain. When I spoke to him last week, he threatened to call you out at first…”
“Did he now?”
“Yes.” She swallowed, remembering. “Halford was so furious. He blamed you for my abduction, even though I swore I went along willingly.” She felt another stab of guilt for what she had led Kell into. “I truly am sorry.”
Yet he didn’t seem to want her apologies. “How touching that you are so concerned for my welfare,” he murmured, his tone holding a hint of mockery.
She made a face. “To be truthful, I was more concerned for Halford. You do have the more dangerous reputation, after all.”
Kell’s features grew cool, and Raven immediately regretted her impetuous tongue. “I didn’t mean to jest about it. I admit, Halford frightens me. He says he means to ruin you.”
“He can try.” The words were spoken casually, but there was an edge of steel in his voice that boded ill for his opponents.