Chapter One
Smoke and the sound of male laughter permeated the air, making a thick curtain about the table. This was the best part of the evening, as far as Jack was concerned. The crowd of drunken ne’er-do-wells had finally gone home. Now he and his friends sat about counting the money. A large pile of coins filled the center of the table; drunken ne’er-do-wells were good for one thing: spending.
In fact, Jack, The Earl of Effington, had amassed a small fortune through this gaming establishment, aptly named Den of Sins. Enough that his life was back on the path he was meant to tread. The path he’d been on before a treacherous woman had nearly destroyed him.
Just thinking about the Lady Cristina Hathaway, now the Countess of Abernath, made his skin crawl. How her husband still had any money left, or dignity for that matter, he couldn’t say. But healing the scars she’d left on his life had taken many years. Not only had she managed to run his accounts dry, she’d broken his heart when he’d found her in bed with his former best friend. He’d spent a great many years trying to repair the damage, some ways more productive than others.
He ran a hand through his dark blond hair. With the money he’d made at the Den of Sins, he’d returned his estate to its former glory, bought a London townhome, and participated in a full season. During that time, he’d found a lovely fiancée and their wedding was just weeks away.
Lady Emily Winchester was in every way the opposite of the countess. She was beautiful inside and out, so much so that he’d fallen madly in love. All these years had been worth the trouble because of her. Sometimes, he thought he’d clawed his way back from the pits of hell.
And while he enjoyed his friends at the Den of Sins, he wished to leave behind this part of his life. With his lands now supporting themselves, this would be one of his final nights living his double life in this gaming hell under his secret name, Effing.
The Duke of Darlington sat to his right; here he was known only as Daring. They wore masks in the club, though he suspected a great many of the den’s visitors had guessed their real identities. Still, there was plausible deniability with the names and the masks. “Tonight may be one of our best nights yet,” Daring rumbled, his dark and craggy features just distinguishable in the fog. “Business is booming. How can you contemplate leaving?”
Jack shrugged. “Fun as watching men waste their lives is, I’ve got my own life to begin.”
Malice, The Marquess of Malicorn, snorted from his other side, his razor-sharp looks and dark eyes piercing Jack. “What does marrying have to do with anything? So what if you’re about to marry and make little heirs? Why does that mean you have to stop whoring, gambling, and drinking?”
Exile laughed from across the table as his nimble fingers stacked coins. He was a strapping Scot with a shock of bright red hair. “Haven’t you been paying attention, Malice? The man hasn’t drank, whored, or gambled for months. Effing hasn’t been…well…effing around at all. He’s caught the dreadful disease.”
“Disease?” Bad coughed. The Baron of Baderness was the newest member of the group, his blond good looks making him look younger than all of the other men, despite being the same age.
“Love,” Exile gagged. “Cover your face or you’ll catch the vapors.”
All the men laughed, even Jack. He couldn’t deny the truth, he was completely and totally in love. He never wanted to touch another woman again as long as he lived. “Careful gentlemen or you could find yourself afflicted as well.”
“Fat chance,” Daring said. “But I could use a warm body or two. This weather is damn wet and cold. Has anyone sent for some girls?”
“Girls?” Malice curled his lip. “What would we want with girls? I sent for a passel of lovely women near an hour ago.”
The other men laughed again, but this time Jack didn’t. He pressed his lips together. At one time, he might have eagerly participated. But not anymore. Even before he’d fallen in love with Emily, he’d grown tired of the lifestyle. He still cared deeply for these men, would take a bullet for anyone of them, but he had no inclination to touch a dirty whore. “That’s my cue to retire for the evening.”
“Retire?” Bad called, pushing his chair back. “For heaven’s sake, why?”
He gave a small smirk. “Maybe it is for heaven’s sake.”
The other men laughed again, that low throaty chuckling men often did. Vice, the quietest man in the group, his dark looks carrying an almost dangerous edge, quirked a brow. “I’m sure none of us are going to heaven. Me least of all.”
The Viscount of Viceroy had a mysterious past that the other friends had learned not to ask about. “Likely not. But I promised Emily I’d attempt to make the last dance at the Edgmeres’ ball and I should like to see my promise met.”
Exile cleared his throat. “I doubt you’ll make it, Effing. It’s already half past two.”
Jack’s stomach clenched. This was another reason he needed to quit the club. Most of his free time was spent here and it wasn’t the first time he hadn’t fulfilled a promise to Emily. “Damn it all to hell.”
“Hell,” Exile guffawed. “That’s right. That’s where we’re headed.”
Bad narrowed his gaze. “Why do you care if you please her?”
Jack ran his hand through his hair, frustration making his voice curt. He’d grown tired of explaining desire for change to them and he worried how Emily would react to failure to once again appear when he’d promised. “Her happiness matters to me.”
The answer was met with silence. As Jack’s gaze swept across the table, men stared at him with open mouths, scrunched brows, and cocked heads. They simply didn’t understand.
“You’re tied to her skirts.”
He snorted. “Hardly. I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I?”
Daring shook his head. “You’re here with us in body but your spirit has already flown to her side.”
Vice thumped his chest with his hand. “We’ve lost him.”
Malice snorted. “I’ll drink to that. Effing is leaving us, but he won’t be forgotten.” Then he stood raising his glass. “Forever more he’ll—”
A knock interrupted his speech. “Excuse me, gentleman.” One of the men guarding the door opened it a crack. “But there is a group of lovely young ladies here to see you.”
Malice dropped his cup, his speech forgotten as a smile split his face. “Why are we wasting time talking? Show them in, good man.”
Jack grimaced as he tossed several coins back on the pile, ready to leave. This evening had gone to hell. What he didn’t yet know, but was about to find out, was how much worse it could get.
/> Lady Emily Winchester sat in the rocking carriage, jammed between her sister, Diana, and her cousin, Minnie. Across from them were two more of her sisters, Grace and Cordelia, and their other cousin, Ada.
A carriage filled with six women in a conveyance barely meant for four should have been a loud affair but the interior was silent. Except, of course, for Emily’s sniffles.