“Yes…I think so.”
“ ’Tis sorry I am that I let that bastard slip away the last time. Killed him, I should have.”
She drew a slow breath. “Killing him might have been extreme. And the cost too high. You could have landed in prison or worse.”
“But had I killed the blighter, he wouldn’t be here to accost you now. And you would never have been forced to wed his brother.”
Raven pressed her lips together, refusing to let herself sink into self-pity. “Well, it is done now. I will have to find some way to live with it.”
“I don’t like it, him being free to target you.”
“I don’t care much for the way he threatened you, either,” she responded, remembering Sean’s warning to O’Malley to watch his back.
“I can take care of myself, Miss Raven. ’Tis you who should beware, I’m thinking. You should keep a knife or a pistol close at hand.”
Raven grimaced. She had already shot his brother. She didn’t like to think of having to defend herself by violent means, and yet it might be necessary. “Perhaps I should.”
“Well, I’ll be near if you should need me.”
“Thank you, O’Malley.”
After the groom was gone, she hugged her arms around herself, feeling unclean and afraid. It was a long moment before her shivers began to subside.
Her gaze dropped to the invitations that had fallen to the carpet. She might have made some progress in reducing the scandal, but it was clear she still hadn’t removed the threat.
She still had a dangerous enemy in Sean Lasseter. And so did O’Malley.
When Raven’s groom was shown in, Kell was seated at his desk in his private study, reviewing account books. He looked up in surprise as O’Malley stalked across the carpet.
“A word with you it is I’m wanting, Mr. Lasseter,” the groom said grimly, coming to a halt before the desk. He stood with hat in hand, like any correct servant, but there was nothing humble about his demeanor. Rather, anger etched his craggy features, perhaps even belligerence.
Kell set down his pen. “Is this about my wife?”
“Aye, and your brother.”
He felt his stomach knot.
“I’m not usually one to bear tales,” O’Malley ground out, “but your brother…he came to your house this afternoon to threaten Miss Raven. He nearly struck her.”
“Did he hurt her?” Kell demanded in a sharp voice.
“No, but he would have had I not been there to stop him. I had to show him my fives to make him leave.”
Digesting the groom’s information in silence, Kell felt anger spear through him. Before he could respond, however, O’Malley continued in a voice that was half-furious, half-pleading.
“That won’t be the end of it, I’m thinking. Your brother said he wants revenge for the hell he suffered. But Miss Raven isn’t to blame for what the navy did to him. If anyone is at fault, ’tis myself. When he attacked Miss Raven in the park, I darkened his daylights and left him there to come to his senses. But I swear, I never thought he would be taken up by the impressment gang.”
“No,” Kell replied in a low voice. “If anyone is to blame, it’s Sean for assaulting her in the first place.”
“Aye.” O’Malley nodded fiercely. “He’s already hurt her enough. But I’ve a terrible fear he won’t leave it be. And I don’t know if I can protect her next time.”
Kell felt his jaw harden, along with his resolve. “I will deal with my brother, O’Malley,” he said tightly. “I promise you, Sean won’t hurt her again.”
After finding Sean away from home, Kell visited several haunts his brother normally frequented, finally running him to earth at Madame Fouchet’s. The most elegant sin club in London catered to aristocratic young bloods and wealthy commoners and specialized in fulfilling sexual fantasies.
The proprietor was a shrewd Frenchwoman, the same madame who had supplied the aphrodisiac used on Raven. Madame Fouchet greeted Kell personally, and with fondness.
“How good to see you, mon cher. You have not graced us with your presence in quite some time. We have missed you.”