Page 90 of A Little Bit Dangerous
Amid a sudden flurry of excitement, those in the supper room downed their drinks and headed towards the narrow marble corridor.
It was Daventry’s turn to make promises. “Keep calm. We will prevail. I’ve not lost a fight yet.”
They followed the crowd through the corridor and entered a mirrored ballroom lit by crystal chandeliers. Men sat in rows of padded gilt chairs before a makeshift stage. In a bid to remain as inconspicuous as possible, Aaron gestured to the seats in the back row.
The lively conversation continued.
Laughing like a drunken buffoon, Lord Hanson happened to look over his shoulder. His bushy grey brows rose in consternation as he met Christian’s gaze. The lord paled as he considered Aaron, then Daventry.
Hanson stood abruptly, but then a flourish of trumpets silenced the room, and the lord was forced to regain his seat.
All eyes turned to the curtained stage.
The swathe of red velvet parted to reveal a beautiful dark-haired woman dressed in the garb of Cleopatra and locked in a gilt cage. Through terrified eyes, she scanned the crowd, rattling the bars like a crazed animal.
Christian cursed under his breath.
It took immense effort to remain seated.
The conte appeared, a popinjay dressed in blue and gold silk. He hit the gilt bars with his cane to silence the frightened girl before addressing the crowd.
“My esteemed guests.” He repeated the greeting in numerous languages. “Tonight, you are invited to cast your eyes over a host of exotic beauties sourced from faraway lands.” He waited for the crowd’s excited applause before continuing. “Here we have our Egyptian goddess Khepri. Such striking beauty is rarely seen on England’s fine shores. The Grand Vizier himself provides proof of her chastity.”
The conte continued his pitch before revealing the real reason they were gathered here. This woman was to be sold at auction, and the bidding opened at a shocking twenty thousand pounds.
From all around the room, men raised their paddles.
The bids came so fast that one could barely keep track.
The conte banged the stage with his cane to signal the winning tender—an extortionate one hundred thousand promised by an unknown Frenchman in the front row.
“I can’t wait to thump the smiles off their faces,” Christian muttered. “Only after I’ve murdered the conte, of course.”
“Let me worry about vengeance,” Aaron said darkly. “Miss Lawton will need you in one piece. I’ll deal with the conte before I rid the world of Sir Geoffrey Lawton. I mean to ensure his daughter has no reason to run.”
Christian glanced at Aaron, a rush of pride, love and respect gathering in his chest. “I’m determined to marry her if she’ll accept.”
Aaron averted his gaze and stared at the stage. “Good. I have other uses for your room, and your house in Ludgate Hill shouldn’t be left empty.”
The thought of abandoning his brothers caused Christian’s heart to constrict. But he loved Isabella, and they could not make a life together while living above a gaming hell.
“You may still depend on me to work at Fortune’s Den.”
A faint smile touched Aaron’s lips. “You’re a partner in a successful business. I expect to see you each morning, promptly at ten.”
Christian smiled too, but the conte carted another poor woman out for display, and anger flared anew.
Daventry insisted they sit through four more auctions while he made notes in a small black book. The Earl of Evesham’s dissolute son spotted them seated at the back. He whispered to the fellow beside him, and they both shrank down in their chairs while eyeing the exit.
Impatience was like a serpent slithering in Christian’s veins, but fate granted them a boon. Lawton appeared when summoned by the conte.
Christian turned to Aaron. “It seems the lord has answered our prayers. I say we strip Lawton naked, load him into a cart and deposit him in the rookeries. We can hunt him down as one would an animal.”
“Forget Lawton. He’s mine.”
Christian was about to protest, but chaos erupted when the conte introduced Lawton as his business partner and the father of his soon-to-be bride. While Christian sighed with relief to know Isabella was alive, a gentleman in the crowd shot to his feet and cried, “Liar! Deceiver!”
Amid the stunned silence, Lawton narrowed his gaze and peered over the sea of heads. Recognition dawned, and his temper erupted. “Sit down, Mr Griffin. Sit down, or I shall have you removed.”
