CHAPTER2
Pen was not going to accept Lord Lordly’s cursed five hundred pounds.
No.
Absolutely not.
Never.
There was not a chance she would allow the viscount to insult her honor and Aidan’s by accepting his bribery. Aidan was her friend, and she owed him her loyalty. Despite his leather-headed notion they ought to marry, she would never dream of betraying him in such heartless fashion.
That his own brother would was appalling.
Why, suppose Aidan were in love with Pen. Would Lord Lordly truly wish to ruin his brother’s future chance at happiness merely because he had deemed Pen unsuitable? Yes, she had no doubt he would. The man was arrogant and infuriating and insulting all at once. Hart ought to have given Lord Lordly a punch in his bread basket for his insults. Pen would have, had he lingered. And if he returned as he had warned, perhaps she would. It would certainly serve him right.
She paced down the length of the private room where she and her siblings—or those of them in residence at the hell these days, a dwindling number thanks to Jasper’s marriage and Logan’s disappearance—had gathered. Even Rafe was taking refuge in Mayfair for today.
“He can take his coin and shove it up his—”
“Now, now, Pen,” interrupted Hart with a pointed glance in their younger sister Lily’s direction. “The child is listening.”
“I was going to say nose,” she grumbled.
“Cease calling me that,” Lily snapped, pinning their brother with an irritated glare. “I haven’t been a child in years. I’m old enough to wed.”
“No,” their other brother Wolf said, “you’re not.”
“I am a woman, and blast you all for insisting upon treating me as if I were the baby of the family.” Lily sniffed.
“You are the bleeding baby of the family, Lil. You’re the youngest of us all,” Wolf pointed out.
“I’ll give any cove sniffing about your skirts the basting of his life,” Hart added.
Pen sighed. Their brothers were protective. From their eldest brother, Jasper, to Rafe, and then Hart and Wolf, a Sutton lady could scarcely take a breath about a gentleman without fear her brothers would give him a drubbing and warn him away. Heavens knew Rafe had done so to Aidan. But Aidan was her friend, just as he had always been, even if he had ignored her irate summons in the wake of his older brother’s unexpected call. He could not ignore her forever. And besides all that, her brother’s concern had been misguided.
Every bit as misguided as Aidan’s own brother’s was now.
Just thinking of the arrogant lord who had paid an unexpected call upon her the evening before had a queer flare of awareness lighting within her. It was the same feeling she’d had once before, the one she had followed to her detriment. But Daniel had no place in her worries now. He was decidedly in the past, where he belonged, and where he would forever remain.
And the present was laden with problems enough of its own. Old problems could remain where they were, long since buried.
“If the three of you would cease squabbling,” she said, turning her attention to her siblings, “perhaps we might discuss the viscount’s threat to return this evening.”
After his departure the night before, an unexpected melee had occurred in the gaming quarters, spurred by an argument over a mistress between two drunken lords. Mayhem had been narrowly circumvented by Hart expertly calming the soaring tempers. With Hart and Wolf watching the floor closely for the rest of the evening, Pen hadn’t had the opportunity to speak with her brothers about Lord Lindsey’s unexpected appearance and subsequent attempt to bribe her.
“When do you suppose hisnabs is going to arrive?” Hart asked, stroking his jaw with a contemplative air.
“Five hundred pounds, you say?” Wolf grinned. “I’ll be ’appy to accept it for you.”
“Will you not take this seriously?” she demanded. “I fear Lord Lindsey will cause problems for The Sinner’s Palace if I do not take his bloody coin and do as he has ordered me. He threatened as much last night before leaving.”
“Then take the damned coin,” Lily suggested. “Lord Aidan is a troublesome cove, and we don’t need more than we’ve already got, what with the Bradleys and the fire.”
The Bradley family, owners of a rival gaming hell in the East End, had been causing the devil’s own stir. But it had been their eldest brother Jasper who had unwittingly brought more destruction down upon them when the East End property for their new gaming hell had been set aflame by a madwoman from his past.
“There must be a different solution,” she said, frowning at her sister.
“You don’t want to marry Lord Aidan anyhow,” Hart said, agreeing with Lily. “You said as much last night. You may as well take the coin and be richer for all the grief Lord Aidan has caused.”
Why did everyone always blame Aidan? He was of an age with Pen, a charming rascal who never failed to make her laugh. The two of them had been unlikely—though fast—friends ever since she had made his acquaintance here at the hell. From their first meeting, Aidan had made a habit of sneaking into the private quarters and regaling her with tales of his antics. He had also indulged the sense of adventure her overbearing brothers had sought to quell.
“While it’s true that I am not marrying Lord Aidan, he has not caused any grief,” she defended her friend.
His reputation preceded him. For the entirety of their friendship, Pen’s family had been warning her away from him and telling her he was a n’er-do-well best ignored. And yet, no one knew him as she did. His mischievous nature had never extended to her.
At least, not until he had announced his intention to marry her, all as a sport to infuriate his family, with whom he was currently displeased. Pen had no wish to be the sword he used to fight them, however.
“Setting his arrogant lordling brother upon us ain’t causing grief?” Wolf crossed his arms over his chest, his disdain for the quality showing.
“Aidan hardly asked the viscount to come here and browbeat me.” Pen shot her brother a chastising glare. “He would not intentionally do any harm to us or The Sinner’s Palace.”
“You never did say why the whelp is running about announcing your betrothal.” Hart’s eyes narrowed. “There ain’t a chance of Lindsey or old Dryden allowing their precious blood to mingle with a Sutton’s, and the empty-headed shite ought to know it.”