Lady gambit, p.7
Lady Gambit, page 7
They entered Mr Flynn’s drawing room. It was a warm, masculine space with mahogany furniture and burgundy leather sofas. Like the man himself, the room was immaculate, everything pristine and in its place. Yet she pictured their crumpled clothes strewn about the floor, cushions scattered on the rug near the hearth, him trailing burning kisses over her skin.
Mr Flynn rang for tea but poured himself a brandy and tossed it back quickly, hissing to cool the burn. He returned to the seating area, passing Mr Daventry a large dram.
“While we wait, perhaps I should explain one theory.” Mr Flynn sat in the chair opposite the sofa, his black trousers gripping his muscular thighs, and told Mr Daventry about his visit to Bethlem. “In all likelihood, Nora Adkins is a little deranged. Sixteen years spent in Bethlem will do that to a person.”
“Do you know who had her committed?” Mr Daventry sounded excited by the possible mystery.
“Not yet, but it should be easy to find out.” Mr Flynn met her gaze, his dark eyes softening briefly. “I believe Nora knows Miss Chance. My visit to Bethlem may have led to the attack outside Miss Darrow’s shop.”
Her heart sank to her stomach.
It was her fault.
“What makes you so sure, sir?”
He would have explained the facts in Miss Darrow’s yard had Theo not charged in like a bull at a gate. Then she might have taken every precaution.
“Nora acted out a scene for me.” He gave a detailed recount of the woman’s ramblings. “I’m convinced she witnessed an altercation between a man, woman and girl. Whatever happened was so terrifying, the girl was told to run, to disappear into the night.”
Silence descended.
A familiar voice rang through her mind.
Run! Run, my darling. Save yourself. Don’t look back.
Her heart pounded against her ribcage, so fast she could hardly breathe. “Did she name the girl? Did she say what happened to her? Did she return to her family? Was she lost?”
Mr Flynn shook his head. “This is only a hypothesis, but I think the woman’s name was Sofia, and the child was Caterina. The gentleman’s identity is a mystery.” He went on to describe the person Nora believed was keeping her at Bethlem. Something about big boots and a ridiculous red eye on a stick. “Are the names familiar to you, Miss Chance? Does anything I’ve said spark a memory?”
She scoured the dark recesses of her mind.
You’re Delphine Chance.
Never forget it.
I’ll kill anyone who says otherwise.
Aaron had repeated the statements so many times they were etched in her brain. And she so desperately wanted to belong to someone.
“No.” She hesitated, unsure whether to mention her secret. But lies were the reason Theo had been shot in the shoulder. She would not be the cause of another mishap. “Whenever I’m afraid or facing difficult decisions, I hear a woman’s voice telling me to run.” She repeated the words verbatim. “Perhaps it’s a coincidence.”
Mr Daventry and Mr Flynn exchanged curious glances.
In the stillness, she heard the thud of footsteps on the stairs. She braced herself, waiting for Aaron to storm into the room and throw daggers of disdain in her direction, but the front door opened and slammed shut.
Was it Aaron?
Was he leaving without speaking to her?
She was on her feet and at the window in seconds.
Aaron marched back and forth on the drive like a caged animal, the gravel crunching beneath his booted feet. His clenched fists hung at his sides like heavy mallets. His eyes were as dark as the bowels of hell. He was priming himself to attack. But then he gazed heavenward and roared like a beast baying for blood.
“It will be hard to control him,” Mr Daventry warned. “If you hope to solve this case, you’ll need to appease Aaron Chance. He’ll want to tear every suspect limb from limb.”
Mr Flynn cleared his throat. “Miss Chance has changed her mind. She is no longer interested in pursuing the truth.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll not be responsible for someone else getting hurt. The past no longer matters.”
“I’m afraid the decision is not yours to make, Miss Chance.” Mr Daventry swallowed a mouthful of brandy. “A man was shot in broad daylight on a London street. I’ve been tasked with overseeing the case. Flynn has already received his fee and will lead the investigation.”
Mr Flynn’s handsome eyes widened in surprise. “I’m not an enquiry agent. Yes, the attempted abduction may be linked to Miss Chance’s search for her parents. What if it’s related to a gaming debt or a disgruntled mistress?”
While she listened, stunned by the turn of events, Mr Daventry said, “You worked at Bow Street and are more than capable of dealing with whatever problems arise. I’ve no available agents, and you’re skilled at uncovering the truth.” Mr Daventry waved nonchalantly in her direction. “Miss Chance will assist you. I’m convinced the key to the past lies trapped within her mind.”
“Me?” She locked eyes with Mr Flynn. They had dared to kiss because there was no hope of them being alone again. How could she spend time in his company without recalling the warmth of his lips?
“Miss Chance is not equipped to deal with cutthroats,” he said, for he looked just as perturbed by this shocking proposal. “I cannot be responsible for her safety.”
“On the contrary,” she began, desperate to impress him. “I’m an expert shot with a pocket pistol. Under my brothers’ tutorage, I can throw quite a decent punch.”
It was a pointless argument. Aaron would never permit it. After this debacle, he would not let her out of his sight. And a woman who barely left home did not possess the skill to find villains.
The drawing room door swung open and Aaron appeared, looking ready to tackle a heathen army. He stared at her, ignoring the other people in the room, and slowly closed the gap between them.
Tears filled her eyes.
She wasn’t afraid of him.
He would never hurt her.
He stopped when they were a foot apart but remained as silent as the grave. His dark, unreadable eyes searched her face. There was no flicker of disappointment. No flare of anger. No flash of blame.
“This is my fault,” she said, her voice a ghostly whisper.
“None of this is your fault.” Aaron reached for her, hauling her into his muscular arms and embracing her tightly. “You’re not to blame.”
In this rare display of affection, she rested her head on his broad chest and let her love for him chase away her fears. This was the first time she’d felt the physical warmth of her brother’s love. It would likely be another sixteen years until she felt it again.
“I’ve done everything in my power to keep you safe, to make you happy, but it’s not enough,” he said, inadequacy marring his tone.
She looked up at him, about to bury her feelings and wear her usual mask, but she could not lie to him anymore. “You did what you thought best. You’re the man I admire most in this world, but sometimes it’s hard to talk to you.”
Aaron’s heavy sigh echoed through the room.
“I needed to know if my parents loved me,” she confessed, not caring if the men watching thought it sounded pathetic.
“I was only trying to protect you.”
She held his gaze, her throat tightening. “I need to know who I am. I need to know why they abandoned me. Was I not good enough to keep?”
Mr Flynn stood abruptly and went to pour himself a drink. He stared at the row of crystal decanters, lost in his own thoughts.
Aaron released her, straightening to his full height. “You’re my sister. You are Delphine Chance. Nothing will change that. But I’m losing control of our family and don’t know what to do.”
“You can begin by being honest,” Mr Daventry suggested from his comfortable seat on the sofa. “You can hope that the love and respect you’ve earned over the years will always keep those you care for close.”
She cupped Aaron’s cheek. “We will always be kin. I merely seek answers. A way of bringing an end to the confusion.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Then I pray you will forgive me for what I have done. I pray you will understand why I never told you the truth.”
A chill shivered through her. “The truth?”
“Do you think I’d risk your parents returning to ruin our lives? Do you think I’d raise you as my sister knowing someone might steal you away? Would I let you live this life if I knew a better one awaited you elsewhere?”
She blinked rapidly, scared to ask the most obvious question. “What are you saying?” Somehow, she knew the answer would change things irrevocably.
Aaron covered his heart with his hand. “I know who you are, Delphine. I know where you came from. Trust me. You would rather die than return to that viper’s pit.”
Chapter Six
Amid the stunned silence, Dorian cradled his brandy goblet and stared at the amber liquid in the glass. Despite being in the company of three people, the chill of loneliness found its way into his heart. The profound bond that connected Delphine and Aaron Chance was palpable. The power of love thrummed in the air. It forced a man to dwell on his own tragic past. To wonder if life might be different if he’d had a sister to love.
Not that he saw Delphine Chance as a sister.
Far from it.
The woman had stolen his breath.
She’d crept into his mind and robbed his sanity.
Kissing her had done more than feed his curiosity. It had left him wanting and wondering. What was this strange connection that existed between them? Why had a simple kiss rocked him to his core? Why had the thought of never seeing her again made him behave like a reckless rogue?
He might have trawled his mind for the answer had Aaron Chance not confessed to knowing the truth about her parentage.
Miss Chance stared at her brother, her face a mask of hurt and confusion. “You met my parents and never told me? You know who I am but left me in the dark?”
“We will discuss this at home,” Aaron said abruptly.
“We will discuss it now.”
Daventry coughed to gain their attention. “While my opinion counts for little, you cannot allow Miss Chance to return to Fortune’s Den. Fifty men pass through there nightly. Let us not forget why your brother was shot.”
Aaron Chance swung around, his temper flaring. “Do you think I will ever forget seeing my brother lying helpless in that bed? This has nothing to do with Delphine’s parents. This isn’t the first time a peer has hired thugs to kidnap her. Trust me. I shall have my hands around the culprit’s neck before dawn.”
Miss Chance gasped. “So there has been a plot to kidnap me before. An actual plot, not a fear or suspicion. Not tittle-tattle or ballroom gossip.”
“Just verbal threats from debt-ridden fools,” her brother countered. “This was another such incident. Once I’ve dealt with the problem, no one will dare approach you again.”
The lady paled as if her life had just flashed before her eyes. Was she imagining days locked in her bedchamber? Was she thinking how cold and long the nights were when one sat alone?
“Aaron, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me about my parents.” Perhaps her brother’s revelation had given her the confidence to be bold. “You will treat me the way you do our brothers and allow me to form my own opinions. I’ll not go back to how things were.”
The man firmed his stance. “I’ll not leave this godforsaken house without you. Do you understand?”
Tired of watching from the sidelines, Dorian joined the battle. “Perhaps you should remember whose godforsaken house this is. I’ve been forced to take a case I don’t want. To creep about in yards and alleys and conduct secret meetings. I have risked my life to save a stranger. Now you test my patience and take advantage of my hospitality.” He hit Aaron Chance with a steely glare. “As I’m charged with solving this case, you will sit down and answer my questions, or you’ll get the hell out of my house.”
Daventry failed to hide a smile.
Miss Chance’s eyes sparkled with admiration as she scanned his physique. “Please accept our sincere apology, Mr Flynn. It’s extremely rude of us not to consider your wishes.”
With obvious reluctance, Aaron Chance inclined his head. “What case? What could you possibly want with me?”
Daventry explained. “I’m afraid this is now an official matter. Either Flynn investigates the shooting or Sir Malcolm Langley will appoint a man from Bow Street to act in his stead.”
“The men from Bow Street can go to hell. Half of them are corrupt. I’d sooner trust an alley cat.”
“Then unless you want them prying into your private affairs, I suggest you sit down and allow Flynn to do his job.”
Miss Chance sat in the leather chair. “Do you have sherry, Mr Flynn? If I’m to hear my brother’s confession, I will need something soothing to drink.”
“I have port or brandy, madam.”
“Anything strong will suffice. I am only permitted to drink sherry at home.”
Her brother looked at her and cursed under his breath. “Can we get to the matter at hand? I’m taking Theo home tonight.”
“That’s out of the question,” Dorian snapped. If he was to solve the case and be rid of Aaron Chance, he needed to show the King of Clubs he was not intimidated. “He’s a key witness in an attempted murder enquiry. And to move him would hinder his recovery.”
Aaron Chance firmed his jaw. “I’m taking my brother home.”
“He will receive the utmost care and attention. Your family is in grave danger, Mr Chance. We must focus on what’s important. We must find the culprit before someone else you love is shot.”
Dorian strode to the drinks table and poured two glasses of brandy. He gave one to Aaron Chance, who sat beside Daventry on the sofa, his mood as black as a thunderous sky. His heart galloped as he handed Miss Chance her drink and their fingers touched. She met his gaze, the jolt of attraction hitting him hard in the chest.
Mother of all saints!
His mild infatuation with his client only added to the complexity of the case. Perhaps his obsession was more than mild but it would pass. He needed to focus on the facts. Investigating a crime of this magnitude required his undivided attention.
Dorian sat in the wing chair next to the hearth. “Before we begin, I believe you have something to say to me, Mr Chance. You strike me as a man who always pays his dues.”
Aaron tossed back his drink. He pinned Dorian to the seat with his intense gaze. “I’m in your debt, Flynn. While I regret I cannot throttle you for meeting secretly with my sister, your swift action saved my brother’s life.”
Dorian inwardly smiled. “Then permit me to call in that debt. You already know I will do everything in my power to protect your family. Consequently, you will work with me and abide by any decisions I make.”
Aaron fell silent.
“We are on the same side,” Dorian reminded him.
Miss Chance shot her brother a challenging look and answered on his behalf. “He agrees, Mr Flynn. I am equally in your debt. Heaven knows where I would be if you had not intervened.”
Aaron sat forward, resting his arm on his knee. “If I place my faith in you, Flynn, you had better deliver. Cross me at your peril.”
He took the threat seriously.
Aaron Chance would kill to protect his family.
“Here are my terms.” Dorian swept his hand between them. “There will be no lies, no skirting around the truth. If you must take matters into your own hands, you will inform me first. You’ll not tell a soul where I live.” He’d not have wolves scratching and howling at his door. He’d not suffer his father’s interference. “You’ll not arrive here unannounced.”
“And you will treat my sister with the utmost respect.”
Their passionate clinch flashed through Dorian’s mind.
It’s just as well this is goodbye.
I doubt I’d ever tire of kissing you.
“Miss Chance is my client and a witness in an investigation. I shall treat her accordingly.” He daren’t look at her. He had overstepped the mark, but the sadness in her bewitching eyes tugged at his heartstrings. “Let me begin by explaining why you’re wrong about who arranged the attack on your family.”
Aaron Chance listened intently while Dorian described meeting the exuberant Nora Adkins. He mentioned her silly dance and the parting words that had sent a shiver shooting down his spine.
“She sounds like a loon,” Aaron replied.
“Whether you believe her ramblings is immaterial. Allow me to give you the facts. Someone is paying to keep Nora at Bethlem. In front of witnesses, Nora called your sister Sofia. Within a week of me questioning the woman, thugs attempted to abduct Miss Chance from outside the modiste’s.”
Miss Chance shuffled forward in the seat. “You think I am the child who fled? That Sofia was my mother? That I am Caterina?”
Before Dorian could reply, Aaron Chance scoffed. “You’re not Caterina.”
“Perhaps someone thinks she is,” Daventry said.
“Then who am I, Aaron.” The lady’s hands shook as she gripped the brandy glass. “Is my past so terrible you would deny me the right to know my parents?”
Aaron scrubbed his face with his hand and glanced at Daventry. “I blame you for this. In future, keep to your own affairs.”
“She deserves to know the truth,” came Daventry’s stern reply.
“The truth will get her killed.”
“She is already in grave danger. You knew this day would come.”
Aaron hung his head, the strain of keeping the secret taking its toll.
The silence stretched, the incessant ticking of the mantel clock like the drum of a death knell.
It took Aaron a moment to gather himself before he said solemnly, “You’re an orphan. Your parents perished and are buried in a pauper’s grave. I’m sure they loved you. How could they not?”
It wasn’t the whole truth. He hadn’t touched on the damning fact that placed her in jeopardy. Indeed, why would he keep such an unremarkable tale to himself all these years?
