Marquess of Malice (Lords of Scandal 2)

Both Exile and Bad blocked his way. “You can’t kill him yet,” Exile said close to his ear.

“I agree,” Bad replied. “We need a plan.”

Malice drew in several deep breaths. “Does the plan involve beating the piss out of McKenzie?”

“Absolutely.” He snapped the domino back in place. “But let’s get him in the back room first.”

“How are you going to do that?” Malice asked.

“He’s a degenerate gambler. I’m going to offer him a high stakes game in our private room. He’s throwing immense amounts of coin around this evening.”

That made Malice’s gut clench. “I thought you said he was in debt up to his ears.”

“He is.” Bad shrugged. “But he got money from somewhere.”

“Cordelia,” Malice grit out. “Do you think Lady Abernath paid him?”

Bad gave him a one-sided grin. “Let’s ask him, shall we?”

“Fantastic idea,” Exile answered. “We’ll sit at the table with our backs to the door so he thinks we’re also here for the game. When you come in behind him, be sure to close the lock.”

Malice slapped Exile on the back. “Good thinking.” Then he hit him again. “I hope never to be on your bad side.”

Exile winked. “I’m a kitten compared with you.”

They crossed over to the table. Sitting in the chair and waiting was a small form of torture and minutes felt like hours as Malice flexed his fingers trying to remain calm. Finally, feet shuffled down the hall and the door clicked closed.

“My lord.” Bad had a natural cockney accent that he broke out on the gaming floor. It helped maintain their secret and keep up the story that they were working men. As a result, Bad was often the man who monitored the tables and kept the peace. “Have a seat right next to that big fellow.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” McKenzie answered, his voice chipper but slurred. “What a night. I should warn you gentlemen that fortune is on my side this evening.” And he whistled as he sat.

Malice looked over at him, cracking his neck. “Is it really?”

McKenzie’s eyes slowly focused on his face. It took several seconds before he started and tried to jump from his chair but Bad was already behind him and pushed him back into the seat.

“Don’t move,” Bad growled.

Malice stood. “This can go one of two ways. You can begin talking and we can have a nice conversation. Or you can resist, in which case I will enjoy breaking each of your limbs.”

McKenzie swallowed. “Lady Cordelia is at the Countess of Abernath’s townhouse. Or she was when I dropped her there at six.”

Malice gave a curt nod. “Why did you take her?”

“Cristina…that is to say the countess…gave me money to leave the country. I’ve a boat to catch in a few hours.”

Anger ripped at his nerves. The man was going to run from his debt. “You were never going to marry her, were you?”

McKenzie held up his hands. “I was. Until it was clear that you were going to best me. I need the funds. If I don’t leave, I’ll go to prison.”

Malice’s growl sliced the air. Had he just felt a glimmer of sympathy for this complete animal? His name was Malice, for feck’s sake. He didn’t feel anything for anyone.

Except for Cordelia. And now, he couldn’t help but think about what she would do in this situation. “What time is your boat?”

McKenzie swallowed. “It sails with the tide at six this morning.”

Malice looked at Exile. “Keep him here. I’ll let you know if I find Cordelia. If I do and she’s unharmed, see him to the boat.”

“She will be,” McKenzie held up his hands. “Cristina doesn’t want to hurt her. She wants her to help in some nefarious plot.”