Page 46 of From Duke Till Dawn
Mrs. Donovan laughed. “As you wish,Your Grace.” She tapped her finger against her chin as she considered Cassandra with a long, thorough appraisal. To Cassandra’s credit, she didn’t fidget or squirm beneath Mrs. Donovan’s scrutiny.
Finally, Mrs. Donovan said on an exhale, “Haven’t seen Hughes.”
Cassandra appeared momentarily crestfallen, then rallied. “Someone has.”
“Nobody’s said a word to me,” the older woman admitted.
Alex pondered for a few moments. “I knew a third son whose father and two older brothers were killed in a carriage accident. As soon as he learned he’d become a viscount, he ran straight to a brothel to spend his new fortune.”
Mrs. Donovan snorted. “Typical—a man thinks first of his wallet, then his cock.”
Cassandra looked uncertain. “Martin never went in for paying for his... company. If he kept a woman on the side, he never spoke about her.”
“So, besides a brothel, where would a swindler go if he suddenly acquired a considerable amount of liquid cash?” Alex wondered.
A dawning comprehension crossed Cassandra’s face. “The racetrack,” she said.
“Swindlers earn their coin cheating people,” Alex refuted. “Why would they throw their money away on something as risky as gambling?”
“That’s precisely who can’t resist the track and the tables,” she asserted. “Always looking to beat the odds.”
“And you?” He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you a gambler?”
She gave him an arch look. “Depends on the wager.” Before he could respond, she asked Mrs. Donovan, “Does Will Parsons still work the track at Hampton?”
The other woman snapped her fingers. The large man who’d been guarding her loomed closer. “Get Parsons.”
Without a word, the hired muscle went off in search of the aforementioned Will Parsons. They waited in silence, until a young, sallow man came stumbling forward.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. D!” he cried.
“For what?” Mrs. Donovan asked with amusement.
“For whatever I did wrong,” he answered nervously.
Cassandra took his arm. “Have you seen Martin Hughes?Think, Will.” She gave him a small shake.
“I don’t... I mean... I think...” The young man glanced anxiously at the people watching him, including a panicked look in Alex’s direction. “I might have?”
“When?” Cassandra demanded.
“Yesterday?” It seemed Parsons couldn’t state anything definitively, phrasing everything like a question. “I didn’t know. This was before we knew he’d gone off with the blunt, so I didn’t think to tell anyone. I’m so sorry!” He gave Mrs. Donovan a pleading stare, a man begging for his life.
“Go on, Will,” Mrs. Donovan said with cheery exasperation.
Cassandra released his arm.
Seemingly relieved that nothing more was required of him, Parsons groveled and scurried off, bowing over and over again as he backed away.
“A possible sighting of Hughes in Hampton isn’t much of a lead,” Mrs. Donovan said to Cassandra.
Cassandra eyed Alex, who stared right back. “At this point, I’ll use a twig for a boat.”
“If you sink without bringing me my blunt,” Mrs. Donovan said with cheerful menace, “I’ll be there to watch you drown.”
The clock chimed one in the morning. Alex braced his arms on the mantel in his room, frustration sizzling through him. His hand ached from the punch he’d thrown earlier.
He’d accompanied Cassandra merely to insure his investment was repaid—but he’d moved without thinking when that pocked bastard had insulted her.
