Duke of Decadence (Lords of Scandal 9)

He stared at her, his eyes narrowed and then he looked down at her trousers and back up to her eyes.

She gazed about for an escape just as Bash entered the room, giving her a long stare. The mystery man at her table diverted his unceasing attention on her, shifting his knowing gaze to Bash.

Now her heart beat wildly in her chest. What did this man understand that he now assessed Bash? Was this man a threat to them? Did he recognize her?

Raising her hand, she signaled Bash to join her.

His brow furrowed. She understood why he looked confused. She’d never once asked for his assistance. But she needed it now.

As he joined her at her table, she leaned in and whispered, “I’m not feeling well. I need to go home.” She already knew what his response would be.

He didn’t disappoint.

With a stiff nod, he replied, “Of course.” Then he signaled for another dealer to take her place.

She walked away, willing herself not to look back and see if the mystery man watched her. Nor did she look back at Bash to beg for reassurance.

Perhaps he’d been right, and the future plans needed to happen now. That man at her table made her feel as though he knew her secrets. She was fine with being a spinster. She understood working at the club, she’d give up her future. But if all of society actually found out she’d been dealing cards at a gaming hell…

She’d known it was a possibility. But as Isabella faced the reality…

A shiver ran down her spine.

Bash watched the other man as he observed Isabella.

Jealousy like a hot knife sliced through him. He didn’t recognize the dark-haired fellow, had never seen him here before, but the man’s gaze never wavered as Isabella left the room.

For a split-second Bash didn’t know what to do. Did he go after Isabella or deal with the man in front of him? He turned to the guard. “Fetch Bill,” their nickname for Isabella in the club, “and have him wait for me in the red room.”

The guard gave a single nod and then started after her, effortlessly parting the crowd to reach her side.

Once Bash saw the man next to her, he shifted his attention back to the gambler, who observed Bash with an astute gaze.

Bash crossed his arms over his chest, his chest filling with air. “You are?”

“A friend.” the man smiled and then gave a wink as he stood.

“Only dandies wink at other men,” Bash growled, making to step around the table. He wanted some answers and he wanted them quickly.

But the other man put his hand up. “Relax, Duke of Decadence.” The low gravel of the other man’s voice struck a familiar chord. “I come in peace.”

“Why did you come at all?” he asked.

“If you check…Bill’s pocket, you’ll have your answer.” Then the other man turned and started for the door.

Her pocket?

Bash took two steps toward the door himself, following the gambler. Another man stepped up to the gambler’s side, a Scot by the tartan waistcoat he wore. He tried to catch them through the thick crowd as he waved for a guard to help him.

He didn’t dare fire a weapon or sound the alarm. As far as he knew, the man hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Staring at Isabella, much as Bash hated to admit it, was not actually an offense. But he wanted more information, so shoving a man to the side, he tried to catch up to the two as they slid out the door.

Bash paused…irritation rippling along his skin. Did he chase two men into the night? Or stay here and see Isabella home?

Spinning on heel, he pointed to the guard. “Follow them,” he called out then he started toward the back room.

What Bash needed was to know what he was dealing with. Who was the man and what had he done, if anything, to spook Isabella? He knew she was well physically. At least nothing had been broken. Had the man threatened her?

Turning down the hall to the red room, he tossed open the door without even a nod to the guard who waited just outside. She sat at the table with a pouch in her hand.