Duke of Decadence (Lords of Scandal 9)

Men, especially drunk ones, were…unpredictable. “You’re pushing our luck, Eliza.” She stood, going to stand next to her sister. “What if some man decides you should be draped across him and not me? What if someone accuses me of cheating? What if—”

“Isabella,” Eliza’s voice lost its sharp tone. She knew Isabella well enough to know when she was getting overwhelmed with people. “I’ve got a Derringer in my garter. Let me worry about keeping us safe. You just pay attention to the game. And don’t look at anyone. Understood?”

Isabella gave her chin a quick jerk.

“Now,” Abigail called from next to the mirror. “Come back over here. I need to fix your scruff. It currently looks like you wiped your face in ash.”

“I did wipe my face in ash,” she replied as she dutifully turned back to her younger sister.

Emily wrung her hands. “You’ll be careful tonight, right? We’ve lost mother and father. If anything happens to the two of you, we’ll have to live with Uncle Malcolm for certain.”

“Emily,” Eliza said, her voice turning to silk for their second-youngest sister. “Don’t worry. We’ll be just fine.”

Isabella dutifully sat down in the chair. She had doubts. Serious doubts. But they needed to eat and time to find out what had happened to their father. And so, she’d go tonight. They’d come too far to turn back now.

Bash, as most everyone called him, sat in a small annex off the main room of his new gaming hell, the Den of Sins. A thick black curtain hung in front of him that he parted periodically to peer out at the crowd that had already filled their tables.

It was nearly midnight, after all.

The drinks had been flowing for hours as had the money. There was the occasional man who came into the club and won but the house always ended up with most of the profits.

First and foremost because he hired smart men to run the games. But even more importantly, those game masters were not allowed to touch the drinks. They kept their minds sober and sharp.

It was usually all the house needed to win. One of his most talented floor members currently ran the table closest to the curtain. He was one of their best game masters but tonight…tonight he was losing. Badly.

Bash frowned, as he looked at the man cleaning their clocks. He had to give the fellow credit. He didn’t celebrate his winning hands, just quietly continued to play and collect a pile of money in front of him. Which had grown quite large. Damn the man.

Nor did the lady behind him smile or talk overly much. Strikingly beautiful, the woman glanced at several of the players, all who smiled back forgetting their cards.

Was she a distraction? Was the house being swindled?

He returned his gaze to the gentleman at the table. He was the sort who would have made an attractive woman. Thin shoulders, delicate cheeks and chin, large eyes that were fringed with long dark lashes.

If it weren’t for the scruff on his face…

Bash’s eyes narrowed. Something wasn’t adding up.

“What are you staring at so intently, Your Grace?” Menace asked, coming to stand behind him.

Bash let out a growl. In the real world, he was the Duke of Devonhall and Menace was the Marquess of Milton. But in the Den of Sins, they kept their real identities a secret. “You know that here you either call me the Duke of Decadence or just Bash.”

Menace gave him a rakish grin but then the grin stopped suddenly as he let out a long whistle. “Take a look at that beauty.”

Bash knew to whom Menace referred. The woman in the low cut gown with the dark hair and classic features that might set a man to flame. She’d certainly attracted the attention of every man at the table and beyond. But Bash hardly looked at her as his gaze settled back on her male companion. “I’m more interested in her escort.”

Menace narrowed his gaze. “I didn’t think you went in for that sort of thing. But he is rather…pretty.”

Bash snorted. “Not interested in that way. He is currently raking up all the profits at that table. We’re losing. Soundly.”

“An occasional winner is good.” Menace shrugged. “People know we’re not cheating them, then.”

“True.” Decadence pulled the curtain back a bit wider, leaning forward as he continued to stare. “But what if they are cheating us?”

Menace didn’t speak for a moment, but he shifted behind Bash. “If they are cheating, can I be the one who confronts the woman? I could pat her down for weapons or do some light interrogation. They could be…interesting.”

Bash held back a growl of irritation. This was serious.

Then he realized he was letting intense anger take over and he paused, drawing in a deep breath.