Vice held up his hands. “Sorry. I’ll stay out of it. I’ve got my own problems.”
“He does.” Jack grinned as he looped an arm about Vice’s neck. “He’s in love.”
Vice’s cheeks heated but Bad looked as though he’d been struck but lightning. “Not you too?”
“I haven’t bandied about that word,” he replied, giving a shrug. “But I’m beginning to wonder…”
Bad scrubbed his scalp with his hands disheveling his hair and making his appearance even more outrageously dark. “I don’t want to know.”
Vice squinted one eye, assessing Bad. His friend always had a cool and controlled exterior. But not today. Perhaps Vice wasn’t the only one being affected by a Chase woman. Bad had been acting strangely indeed. “Fine. Let’s get this over with then, shall we?”
“Yes, please.” Bad climbed into Vice’s larger carriage. “Tonight we are heading back out to see if we can find Abernath again. I want this business over with and that detective Daring hired isn’t doing the job nearly quick enough.”
“I agree with that sentiment.” He did want the business with Abernath done. Ada, however, he hoped he was just beginning with her. “Ada needs to be safe and—”
“Bloody hell, you are in love.” Bad tossed himself back against the seat. “We’ll have to sell the club. I can’t run it by myself, even with Sin’s help.”
Vice stared at his friend. Sell the club? Did he want that? The club was the entire reason he’d agreed to watch over Ada in the first place.
But when he thought of his future, he didn’t see participating in any more late nights out with drunk men. He rather pictured them curled in bed with auburn hair trailing over his chest. “Let’s tackle the first problem, then we can figure out the fate of the Den of Sins.”
Bad let out a groan. “I think I hoped that you would deny the need to sell the place.”
Vice shrugged but it was Jack who spoke. “A gaming hell is a young single man’s enterprise. We are getting older.”
Bad stared out the window, his brow drawn low. “You are, perhaps. I’ve only just begun living my life.”
The men fell silent. In a few minutes they’d reached the Winthrop Estate and Jack went inside to fetch the ladies. He forgot all about his worry the moment that Ada stepped into the carriage. She wore a gown of ivory, setting off her creamy skin and flashing green eyes. He wanted to pull her in his lap but she sat in the seat across from him, giving him a small smile. “Good afternoon.”
“Hello,” he replied. He wanted to say so much more than that. Maybe confess his feelings. Kiss her senseless or…his breath caught in his throat. He wished to beg her to give him a chance.
He thought back to Camille. He hadn’t begged. He’d been young and hurt, and he’d stormed away to leave her family to pack. But Ada…he wasn’t above pleading. She was a softer woman, and…he leaned closer as she stared back. She was the sort of woman who could fill a man with love.
“Ada,” he started.
“Don’t,” Bad croaked. “Not here. Not now.”
Vice grimaced. Whatever Bad was struggling with, he was sorry for his friend. But he wouldn’t allow it to get in his way today. Today was the day he convinced Ada to be his, no matter the consequences. He still didn’t know if he was the right man for her but he couldn’t give her up either. He could only hope her heart was kind enough to accept him despite his flaws. Vice understood he was appealing to her pity, but he’d take that over watching her marry someone else.
Chapter Twelve
Ada looked at Blake with narrowed eyes. Something was different about him today. Intensity rolled off him in waves, and his stare didn’t waver once.
She shifted, clasping her hands together. Last night he’d been tender, gentle. Today, however, there was an energy about him that made her feel…invigorated. Her pulse raced, blood singing in her veins. “Where is my father?”
“Ill after last night,” Jack answered, climbing into the carriage. “He sent me in his stead.”
Ada pressed her lips together. The original rake, he’d likely overindulged last eve. Her mother would nurse her father back to wellness once again. She always did.
She looked over at Vice. Was that what would happen with her? Like her mother, would she tame her rake into a family man who had the occasional bouts of excess?
Ada nibbled her lip. What was she asking this question for? He’d only marry her if Walter forced the issue. Unless she could convince him otherwise. Was that even possible?
“Bad,” Grace said from her seat next to Ada. “What ribbon shop should we go to first?”
Bad choked. “There is more than one?”
Grace flitted her hand. “Of course. Ribbons are an important accessory. Don’t you know that?”