Her Wanton Wager (39 page)

Glass.
Though his wrists were bound, he edged his fingers upward beneath his back, trying to get at the shard. He encountered grit, useless bits. Then he grasped it. The sharp edges cut into his fingers as he began to saw it back and forth against the ropes, careful to keep his movements slight. Not that he need have worried—the guard was focused on the negotiations.

"Let her go." Morgan's voice had a lethal edge. "I'll give you the money."  

"Surely this spitfire is worth more than a thousand pounds," Kingsley mused, running a finger down Percy's arm.

One of the ropes gave a little.
Almost there.
Gavin could almost feel his hands wrapping around Kingsley's neck.

"How much do you want?" Morgan said.

"Ten thousand pounds," Kingsley said.

Morgan didn't blink. "Done. You release Miss Fines and Mr. Hunt. When I have proof of their safety, I will go with you to get the money."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible." Gavin stilled as Magnus' voice came from above. The old man hobbled down the stairs. "This wasn't part of the plan, Kingsley."

"For ten thousand pounds, I'll consider an amendment," his partner replied.

"Give Hunt and Morgan to me," Magnus said. "Keep the girl. You can ransom her from her family or keep her as your whore. 'Tis up to you."

The ropes slid from Gavin's wrists. Grasping the glass shard, he forced himself to remain still. To watch and wait for the moment to attack. From his position, he counted more than a dozen armed men. Too many to take on—he'd have to go straight for their leader. Grab Kingsley and signal Kent to attack. Yet how could he get Percy to safety before all hell broke loose? Perhaps the large cauldron in the corner would shield her from the gunfire ...  

"You're ... Jack Spades, aren't you?" Morgan's haunted voice cut into his planning. The marquess' face had drained of color, a quiver crossing his wide shoulders. "I ... I remember you."

For some reason, Percy nodded emphatically, her words muffled by the cloth.

Who the hell is Jack Spades? Why does Morgan look like he's seen the devil himself?

An icy hand gripped Gavin's gut as Magnus laughed—a menacing sound that was at odds with the old man's decrepit shell.

"And as I recall, you were one of Grimes' pets, my lord," Magnus purred. "Perhaps even his favorite?"

The marquess flinched. Anger roiled in Gavin's veins, his grip tightening on the glass.
Morgan had no choice, you bastard. He didn't deserve his fate—any more than I did.

"What do you want?" Morgan said in a low voice.

"I've been keeping an eye on you for some time. From the gutter to the
ton
—not many could pull it off. To top that, three years ago you survived my associate's attempt at blackmail." Magnus shook his head. "You're a tough bastard, your lordship, make no mistake about that."  

"You … you were behind the extortion? That was how that villain knew about my past with Grimes—you gave him the information," Morgan said slowly.

Harteford ... powerful man. Wouldn't want to tangle with him myself.
Recalling Magnus' words, Gavin felt chilled to the core. How long had the old conniver been weaving this malevolent web?

"Aye, but fat lot of good that did my partner, eh? Behind bars and not a shilling to show for it." Magnus gave a philosophical shrug. "This time around, I won't let greed cloud my judgment. I want the past buried once and for all." Withdrawing a blade from his pocket, he advanced toward the marquess. "And the way for that to happen is for you and Hunt to die."

Thinking quickly, Gavin twisted his head toward Kingsley. "You're going to let Magnus rob you of ten thousand pounds?" he said.

Frowning, Kingsley shoved Percy aside. Though the gag slipped from her, one of the guards grabbed her by the arm. "Think this through, old man," Kingsley said, blocking his partner's path. "With this fat purse, we'll take over the stews. No one will be able to challenge us—not even my sodding father-in-law."

"We'll have enough power as it is. A deal's a deal." Magnus' gaze narrowed. "Out of my way." 

"Even if you kill Lord Harteford and Mr. Hunt, the past won't die."

Percy's voice drew everyone's attention. A perfect distraction. Gavin tensed, his muscles readied to spring.

"Mr. Kingsley and I both know that 'twas you who torched the flash house that night," she continued in a clear voice. "'Twas you who left Mr. Hunt to take the blame."

Magnus set the fire?
Shock paralyzed Gavin.

"It was
you
? How ... how did you know to be there that night?" Morgan said.

Magnus's gaze turned sly. "I suppose there's no harm in you knowing the truth before you die. I'd been watching the house for some time. Waiting for the opportunity to get Grimes—
eye for an eye
, as the saying goes." He laughed mirthlessly. "Then one night I caught an unusual sight: Grime's favorite boy escaping out of his master's window."    

Grooves of tension bracketed Morgan's mouth.

"Knowing how much Grimes enjoyed his nightly entertainments, I guessed one of two things had happened: either Grimes had fallen down dead drunk ... or the boy had somehow incapacitated his master. Either way, my golden chance had arrived. I entered through the back entrance, went up to Grimes' quarters, and there I found my nemesis ..."—Magnus paused—"
alive
."

Gavin's breath came faster.

Morgan rasped, "That's not possible. I stabbed Grimes in the chest."

"Aye, and after all these years, I get to thank you for your assistance. You'd missed the bastard's heart, but injured him enough so that he couldn't put up a fight. So that he had to watch, to suffer"—a maddened glow lit Magnus' eyes—"while I carved his heart out."

"I ... I didn't kill him?" Morgan said hoarsely.

"That pleasure was mine." Satisfaction oozed from the old man's voice. "When I finished with him, I wanted no trace left of Grimes or my deeds that night. So I set the place aflame. Imagine my delight when a boy was later apprehended and jailed in my stead."

 Gavin was shaking now.
Hold on. Don't lose control—

"I had the perfect alibi: a boy who thought he'd killed Grimes, and another blamed for the fire. Fate does enjoy herself at our expense, however. I nearly fell off my chair when I learned from my spy that
Hunt
was the boy who'd served for arson. For years, I'd been doing business with the man whose life I had ruined." Shaking his head in wonderment, Magnus said, "I knew that if you and Hunt ever got together, the truth would come out. I realized then that I had loose ends to tie."

"The attack at Vauxhall ... that was you?" Gavin managed.

"That bungled attempt was Kingsley's own doing. I approached him afterward, helped him to get rid of Lyon and O'Brien." Magnus gave his partner a meaningful look. "Kingsley, you need my help to take over Covent Garden, so get out of my way."

"Your past is your problem." Kingsley raised his pistol at Magnus. "Drop the blade. I'm not losing ten thousand pounds over your stupidity." 

The knife clattered to the ground. Magnus said calmly, "You'll be sorry for double-crossing me Kingsley."

"Tie him up," Kingsley ordered.  

In a quick movement, Magnus grabbed the lamp off the table. Held it above his head. "Anyone comes near me, and you'll all die. For years, linseed has soaked into the walls and floors of this place, and I added more for good measure … combined with gunpowder." A devious smile crossed his face. "I drop this,"—the fire shook in his hand—"and the place explodes."

"You're insane." Looking pale, Kingsley held out a hand. "Give me that."

"Shoot me, and I'll drop it," Magnus said.

Seeing his opportunity, Gavin sprang and caught Kingsley by surprise, wrenching back the other man's weapon arm. Kingsley yelped in pain, dropping the pistol. Gavin pressed the lethal edge of glass against the man's throat.

"Tell your men to drop their weapons," he snarled. "Those on the second floor—toss your arms down the steps." To show he meant business, he let the glass slice deeper, releasing blood.

"For God's sake, do as he says!" Kingsley cried.

Weapons rained to the floor. Morgan rolled to Magnus' fallen knife, freeing himself in an instant. He grabbed a pair of pistols. "On the floor, hands behind your back," he ordered. Once he had the guards subdued, he strode to Percy and cut through her bonds. Without a word, she scooped up weapons and ran over to Gavin.

"Here you go," she said.

Their gazes held.
So much I want to say to you
.
Soon, love.

He took the pistol from her, kept it trained on Kingsley as he addressed the man responsible for his suffering. "Game's finished, Magnus," he said. "We have the place surrounded. Put down that lamp, and I'll let you live."

A crazed look came into Magnus' eyes. "I'll take the other option." And he threw the lamp toward Gavin's feet.

Glass smashed. A roar filled the room, sucking the air from it. Gavin yelled out Percy's name the instant an explosion rocked the room. The force hurtled him backward into the air. The ground fell free beneath him, and he slammed into darkness.   

THIRTY-NINE

Pulse racing, Percy stumbled through the black haze, coughing as thick smoke choked her lungs. The whole place was ablaze—she couldn't see past the wall of flames rising higher and higher. "Gavin, where are you?" she shouted.

"Percy?"

Her head whipped around at the faint sound of her name. Where had it come from? Then she saw it: a crater in the floor. Rushing over, she peered over the smoldering edge. "Thank goodness," she cried, spying Gavin sprawled on the floor below. "I'll be right there."

"No! Don't come down—"

Ignoring him, she lowered herself over the edge, a pile of splintered wood breaking her landing. She scrambled to him. "We've got to get out of here."

He shook his head. "Can't. I'm trapped."

'Twas then that she saw the toppled pillar pinning his left leg. Dashing over, she pushed at the wood beam. It didn't budge. Cursing, she tried harder, shoving with all her might.

"Percy, there's no time. Look at me." The urgency in his voice made her obey. His eyes glittered in his soot-streaked face. "I want you to go.
Now
."

"I'm not leaving you." Perspiration dripped from her forehead as she shouted, "Help! Can anyone hear me? We're down here in the basement!"

"It's no use. The building could blow at any minute," he bit out. "You have to run."

"Not without you." She scanned the room for anything she could use as a lever. Perhaps the fire iron ...

"I love you, Percy," he said in guttural tones.

The stark certainty in his eyes made her heart beat faster, if possible. The man had dashed bad timing. "I love you, too," she said. "Now we have to find a way—"

His hand cupped her cheek. "If you love me, do as I say. I've never begged anyone for anything, but I'm begging you—leave me," he rasped. "Let me die in peace, knowing you are safe."

"No," she said, tears clouding her eyes.

"Percy! Where are you?"

She jumped up in relief. "Nick!" she shouted. "Over here by the stairs! Be careful—there's a hole in the floor."

Seconds later, Nick's soot-covered face appeared over the edge. "Hold on, I'm coming down." He landed on his feet and swiftly assessed the situation. "I'm going to lift the pillar as much as I can. Percy, you pull Hunt free. On the count of three."

Percy positioned herself next to Gavin's trapped leg as Nick gripped the wood beam on the opposite side.

"One ... two ...
three.
" Nick's powerful shoulders flexed. Sweat dripped down his face as he strained to move the heavy wood. The beam inched upward ... Gavin used his good leg to shove away, Percy helping to drag his injured limb free. An instant later, the pillar crashed to the ground again.

Percy threw her arms around Gavin's neck. "Are you alright?" she cried.

His hand tangled in her hair. "Shh, love, I'm fine." His voice hoarsened. "Morgan … my thanks."

"Time for that later," Nicholas said. "Can you walk?"

Gavin grimaced as he tried to move his left leg. "Don't think so."

"I'll help you," Nick said decisively. "First we'll have to figure out how to hoist you up." They all looked upward into floor above, a hellish inferno of swirling fire and smoke.

Then Percy remembered. "They kept me here in the basement earlier. There was a door, leading outside. I think I saw The Thames."

"Back of the building," Nick said. "Let's go."

Between the three of them, they managed to get Gavin on his feet. With one arm around Nick's shoulders and Nick's arm around his waist, Gavin managed to limp along. Percy led the way, clearing the way of fallen debris, navigating around the growing flames. At last, they came to the familiar room at the end of the corridor.

"Over there." Racing over to the door, Percy wrenched it open. The three of them struggled up the steps ... and into chaos.

The battle outside raged as fiercely as the fire within. Gavin's men and The Thames River Police were fighting valiantly against Kingsley's brutes, but they were far outnumbered. Percy called out a warning as villains surrounded Mr. Kent, knives flashing.

Setting Gavin onto the gravel, Nicholas ordered, "Stay with Hunt, Percy. I've got to help Kent."

"You'll stay right where you are, my lord." Kingsley appeared from behind them, his hair singed and a pistol in each hand. "I've got Hunt and Harteford," he shouted. "Throw down your weapons, or I'll put holes in them both."

The fighting slowly came to a halt. Kingsley's men corralled the others, who stood back to back, their glances wary.  

"Now that that's settled," Kingsley said, "I believe you the price for your freedom has just gone up. Fifteen thousand, Harteford."

Nicholas gave a terse nod. "Whatever you say."

"Forget it, Morgan," Gavin said. "He's going to kill us anyway."

Kingsley cocked his pistol. "Shut your mouth, Hunt. I've a mind to dispense with you for all the trouble you've caused."