Page 94 of A Duke Changes Everything
“Would you like to tour the upstairs?”
Mina looked up to the balustrade and receded walkway running around the perimeter of Lyon’s. “Your private balcony? Yes, please.” She understood that he wanted to show her the best aspects of the club, just as she’d hoped to highlight Enderley’s assets.
He led her to the stairwell tucked away at the edge of the club and lent her his arm as they made their way up. Once she stepped onto the plush carpet of the concealed balcony, she understood why it was a haven. It wasn’t quiet, the noises rose and echoed off the building’s glass dome, but the furnishings were comfortable, the chairs plusher, the settee deeper.
And when she stood at the balustrade’s edge, staring down at the desperate men below, she understood Nick a bit better. “You have enormous power over them.”
“For many years, I had none.” He came to stand next to her, so close that his arm and thigh brushed against hers.
“When you returned to London on your own?”
“Yes,” he said tightly.
He seemed to sense she wanted more and after a while he swallowed hard and began. “I had nothing. The clothes on my back, a few coins in my pocket.” He tugged at his ear and sighed. “I took food off vendor’s carts. I fought others for money. I did what I had to in order to survive.”
“And how did you get all this?” She stared down at the gilded columns and green baize-covered tables.
He tipped a grin her way. “Gambling. I’d never had any luck as a child, but I made up for it as a young man.”
“Do you still gamble?” Mina held her breath. She had meant gaming, but she sensed the depth of her question too. From the moment he’d arrived at Enderley, she’d hoped he would bet on the estate. Invest and refurbish. Now she wanted him to take another risk. With her.
“Never,” he said firmly, his gaze steady and determined as he watched the men below. “Gambling gives too much of a man’s power to fate. Waiting on the luck of the draw or the fall of the dice.” He glanced over at her and said in a low, husky voice, “I’ll never be powerless again.”
Mina said nothing more as he led her back down and they made their way out.
Mr. Spencer beckoned them toward a set of polished bronze doors. “Your carriage is ready, sir.”
Nick’s hand at the small of her back soothed Mina’s nerves as she headed toward the club’s entrance. London’s fog had cleared and the morning was so bright, she lifted a hand to shade her eyes.
“Tremayne,” a man shouted, not the same from the club. A young man, well into his cups, and tipping precariously toward them. “I have part of what I owe you.”
Nick urged Mina forward until they’d reached the carriage, then wrapped his hands around her waist to help her inside.
“Not now.”
“You’re returning to Sussex? To play duke? I wish to settle my debts, Lyon.” The man scuttled forward, tapping on the side of the carriage. “Call on me when you return to London.”
Nick positioned himself near the window and leaned out. “Let go of the door or the coachman will pull you under when we depart. Speak to my solicitor about settling your debt.”
With that, Nick knocked on the carriage wall and the driver set the horses into motion. The young man stumbled back, and Mina lost sight of him as they pulled into a line of carriages departing various enterprises on St. James Street.
“He gambles at your club?”
“Not anymore.” He straightened his perfectly straight necktie, rather than look at her.
“The gentleman seemed quite desperate.”
“He’s an awful gambler.” There was no menace in his tone, nor did he seem to take much pleasure in the fact. Which seemed odd for a gambling club owner who kept the money others lost.
“He behaved as if you hold his fate in your hands?”
“I hold his vowels. Dozens of them.” He wrenched his gloves off with a few swift tugs.
“Do you never forgive debts?”
“Why would I?” His gaze was sharp, defensive, then softened the longer he looked at her.
“Why not invest more of your money, as Mr. Iverson does?” Mina could appreciate the idea of a profitable business, but to watch men lose their wealth, their self-respect, their livelihoods. She couldn’t see the appeal.
