Page 27 of From Duke Till Dawn
Martin had taken all the money from the gaming hell and run.
He’dbetrayedher.
Chapter 6
A gasp sounded from behind Cassandra. She whirled around to find not just the maid, but a footman and one of the faro dealers standing in the hall, staring with horror at the empty safe.
John, the faro dealer, looked from Cassandra to the safe, and back again.
“Where’s the money gone?” he demanded.
What could she tell him? That Martin had disappeared with everything?
“We’re going to get paid, right?” the footman asked in alarm.
“Everything’s fine,” Cassandra answered, raising her hands like she was calming a pack of street dogs.
“You said this place was on the level,” John accused sullenly.
“It is,” Cassandra was quick to assure him. “You’ll get paid, but we can’t let anyone else—”
Before she’d finished speaking, both John and the footman had dashed off. Most likely to tell the rest of the staff that there wasn’t any cash in the safe, which meant the whole operation was ruined.
Cassandra exhaled and shut her eyes. Word was going to get out that Martin had run off with the money, likely reaching the ears of the swindlers and underworld figures that made up her investors—people she shuddered to cross.
“What should I do, ma’am?” the maid asked.
Cassandra opened her eyes. “Go home,” she said tensely.
“But my wages...?”
“I said you’ll get them,” Cassandra snapped.
“When? I got a Mam and sisters at home, and the youngest is sick and needs a sawbones, but what am I going to do if I don’t get my wages?”
“Tonight,” Cassandra heard herself say. “Come back tonight and I’ll pay each and every one of you.”
What had possessed her to say that? She’d have to find Martin in less than ten hours. If she didn’t, she’d have nothing to give the staff. They’d tear her apart if she told them they worked all this time for free.
The maid looked uncertain, but nodded and untied her apron. She tiptoed into the office and set the apron on Martin’s desk, then scurried out as if afraid Cassandra might bite her in two.
Alone, Cassandra leaned against the desk and rubbed her face. The room spun. She shook her head. There wasn’t time to cave in or surrender to fear. Martin had to be found. That wouldn’t happen if she stood here wringing her hands and bleating in panic.
In an instant, she was out the door and back on the street. She hailed another cab, heedless of the expense. Cost didn’t matter with something this urgent.
A driver pulled his vehicle over. “Where to?”
“The King’s Doxy in Soho.” Her words were clipped as she climbed into the cab.
“Sure you want to go there on your own, madam?”
“Just drive.” She closed the door and stared out the window, lost in thought, as the cab drove off. Her thoughts spun and her head ached. A hard, angry knot formed in her stomach. How could Martin do this to her. Toher? She’d known him for most of her life. He’d been the one to show her the what’s what of the world. How to speak like a toff, how to bat her eyelashes at men, how to appear like she was refusing money even as she tucked it into her reticule.
He’d been more of a father to her than poor, sad Michael Blake.
And he’ddeceivedher. Like she was nothing more than another pigeon. Howcouldhe?
Acid climbed up her throat. She swallowed bile and clenched her jaw.
