Page 35 of The Rakehell's Seduction
A butler opened it a long minute later, yawning as he did so.
“His lordship is not—”
“Stow it!” Ambrose barked and shouldered roughly past the man to get inside the townhouse.
“Sir!” the butler shouted, more awake now that he’d been knocked aside.
“Vaughn? Where the devil are you?” Ambrose bellowed. The old butler tugged at his arm as he started for the stairs, but a door opened to the right and Vaughn came out.
“Ambrose,” Vaughn greeted quietly. He was fully dressed, not a hair out of place, but his eyes were weary as though he’d expected this.
“Where is she?” Ambrose charged at his old friend, and before Vaughn could react, he punched Vaughn in the face.
Vaughn staggered back a step and clutched his chin. Blood glistened on his lips as he smiled ruefully at Ambrose.
“Damn, I forgot that vicious right hook of yours.” A second later he lunged for Ambrose, his fists raised.
He should have expected Vaughn to fight back, but he wasn’t prepared. Vaughn landed a blow to Ambrose’s eye that stung, and he clutched his face as he ducked from another swinging fist. Then he bent double and ran at the other man, catching him by the waist and slamming him back against the wall where he pounded his own fist into Vaughn’s side.
“Fucking Christ!” Vaughn snarled and threw up a knee into Ambrose’s chest. The blow knocked the wind out of Ambrose as he faced his friend, ready to throw as many punches as it took to get to Alex.
“Don’t make me ask again. Where is she?” He let his tone go as dark and lethal as his present mood. Ambrose could barely speak. He was raging inside and terrified of what might have happened to Alex.
Vaughn’s gaze flickered toward the stairs, betraying Alex’s location.
“She’s safe and unharmed. I promise that, Ambrose, on my life.” He moved slowly but deliberately to block Ambrose’s path to the stairs.
“Get out of my way, Vaughn, or I’ll hit you hard enough that you will stay down.” Ambrose’s hands curled into fists.
Vaughn raised a hand. “I understand that, but you have to listen to me for one bloody minute.”
Ambrose arched her brow. “Oh? And why is that?”
Vaughn rolled his eyes, something he’d done often enough when they’d been lads and Ambrose hadn’t been able to follow him as quickly on a scheme.
“She is in the betting books. You know what that means. Until the wager is satisfied, she will never be safe, never be free. You know that those other men will never stop. Gerald Langley put a price on her reputation for five thousand pounds. And you and I both know those men won’t just stop when it comes to appearances. They’ll go for her maidenhead as well.”
Ambrose’s heart sank as he realized what Vaughn was saying was true.
“Someone has to ruin her to save her,” Ambrose said. “It was why I put my name down on the wager. And it should be me. It’s why I went to Lothbrook, but I…” He couldn’t bring himself to make Alex’s ruination public.
“I knew you’d already claimed her, but I also saw how much you cared about her. You wouldn’t finish the job,” Vaughn said.
“And you needed the coin, didn’t you?” Ambrose accused.
“I do.” Vaughn paused. “Langley is on his way here. I convinced him to come and see Alex in her nightgown at my townhouse in a bedroom. It will hopefully be enough for him. He can go back to White’s and crow over her ruination.”
Vaughn’s plan, albeit cold in regard to Alex, did make sense. As much as Ambrose was loath to admit it, it was a good idea.
“Then let me be the one he sees. I’ll give you the money, but I won’t have her tied to your name. It should be mine.”
“Because you love her.” Vaughn was smiling again, a hint of a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“I do not,” Ambrose snapped.
“You do.”
Ambrose shook his head. “She’s a lovely woman, and her father is an old friend.”
