Page 53 of Eliza and the Duke
“Get off me!” Rouse shouted. He grinned for a split second.
The bastard had lost on purpose. Just as quickly, his expression changed and he managed to look half out of his mind when the official’s attention came back to them. Simon wondered how much Rouse had won for his trouble.
“Can you fight?” the man asked Rouse. He kept asking and Rouse wouldn’t answer. He groaned and pretended to be injured.
Simon backed away from the scene, hoping that it might miraculously change. That Rouse might not actually be intending to throw the fight. He looked up and his eyes caught Brody, who had gone pale with shock. He’d lose a fortune if Rouse didn’t get on his feet.
How much money had Simon cost him?
Simon looked for Eliza in the crowd. She stood there cheering with the rest, not yet understanding what had happened. Simon had won when he was supposed to lose. Brody riggedthe fight so that he could win big with Simon’s loss. Since he’d lost the big payout, he wouldn’t let Simon be free now. In fact, he’d kill him.
Dunn knew. Simon had shared the plan with him, the only one he’d shared it with.
Time slowed. Even the sound of his heart beating in his ears had a curious echo, slow and steady. As he watched, Dunn leaned down and spoke to Eliza, his lips next to her ear. The excitement on her face distorted, transforming to stillness. The sort of quiet expectation that accompanied the dawning of loss. That terrible knowledge that preceded the sensation of pain after a horrific accident.
She met his gaze and they both knew. He was a dead man.
Twenty-Eight
The look on Simon’s faceconfirmed what Dunn had said in her ear.
Simon was meant to lose.
She didn’t know why or how, but she knew that Brody had arranged for Simon to lose. That night when he had cornered them in Whitechapel and taken Simon aside. He must have told him then. Simon would lose and that’s why Brody would win so much. The odds were on Simon winning. His loss would be a much bigger payout. It would likely be a fortune. But now…
“What happens now?” She couldn’t look away from Simon. She couldn’t get over the feeling that this might very well be the last time she saw him. That Brody would want him dead and he had the power to make such a terrible thing come to pass. Everything in her revolted at that. She had not come this far to lose him now.
“Brody kills him.” Mr. Dunn spoke so matter-of-factly thatshe recoiled at the sound. Each word was a rock whipped right into the center of her heart.
“No.” There was so much she wanted to tell him, but they had run out of time. Stubbornly and stupidly.
The official got to his feet. This was it. He would call the fight now. He looked to Brody and his words were lost to the chaos of the night. No one around them needed to hear the words, not when Rouse’s crumbled form stayed on the ground and Simon stood there, hale and whole.
“We have to go to him.” She didn’t know if Mr. Dunn could hear her and she didn’t care. She darted through the men in front of her before Mr. Dunn could stop her. If Brody meant to harm the man she loved, he’d damned well have to go through her to get to him.
Simon saw her and he sprang into action, vaulting over the ropes to meet her. Dimly, she was aware of the men on the risers on the opposite side jumping to the ground, but Simon had taken her arm and he was ushering her down the corridor with Mr. Dunn right behind them. They ran outside and slammed the door behind them. It was old and wooden and probably wouldn’t hold for long. Mr. Dunn wrestled with a full barrel of something that sloshed as he moved it, the veins of his neck straining with the effort, and set it before the door, a temporary blockade. Whoever followed them would have to take the time to either break down the door or wade through the mass of humanity that obstructed the front entrance. It would buy them a little time; she hoped it was enough.
“You have to run away, Simon,” she said as they headed hand in hand down an alley.
Footsteps pounded on the cobblestones behind them. She didn’t know if it was ten or a hundred, friend or foe. It waslike the warehouse had exploded and all the rats were escaping.
“No, I have to go to Daisy,” he said, not even looking at her. His head was on a swivel, looking for Brody’s men to hop out of the darkness.
“I’ll go to Daisy,” she said.
He kept running, not even running, really; he was measuring his steps to hers and she was slowing him down.
They turned down another alley. The whole place was a maze of them. Grabbing his arm, she forced him to stop. When he finally met her gaze, she said, “Listen to me. I’m slowing you down. You have to get far away from Whitechapel. I’ll get Daisy and take her home with me. You go hide. Go to Leigh or Rothschild, but not back to Montague Club.” Brody might be desperate enough to attack there, but he’d never be bold enough or foolish enough to infiltrate the residence of a duke or earl.
“It’ll be better if you and Daisy are not together.” This was from Mr. Dunn. He looked around as he spoke, scanning the shadows for threats. “Brody will want both of ye. Daisy can go there. You have to leave.”
Simon nodded. “If we separate, he’ll be forced to halve his men.”
“Yes, precisely,” she said with enthusiasm. “I swear to you that I’ll see to Daisy. I’ll keep her safe for you.”
A shadow came over Simon’s face. He caressed her cheek. “I can’t let you put yourself in danger, Angel.”
“For Chrissake, she already has, ye arse,” Mr. Dunn pointed out, and Eliza wanted to kiss him for being on her side, but she couldn’t look away from Simon.
