“Ah,” Rafe said simply, the lone word laden with much meaning.
Meaning Wolf also did not like, because it seemed to suggest more than he was willing to admit where Portia was concerned.
“Aye,” he groused, frowning at all his brothers. “I slept late. That is all.”
“Of course.” Jasper nodded, looking as if he were attempting to fight a smile of his own before issuing a heavy sigh. “Business matters first, then. The Sinner’s Palace II will be ready to open in a sennight, as planned. Pen has done an admirable job at making certain the establishment is as princely as possible, and we’re down to only needing to hire a few more hands. I trust matters here have been proceeding smoothly since my last visit?”
Between Jasper’s marriage to Lady Octavia, being a father to his twin daughters, and managing the opening of the second Sinner’s Palace in the West End, Jasper’s visits to the East End establishment that had begun their family empire had grown fewer and sparser in recent months. Hart and Wolf had been happy to take up where their brother had left off, however. Wolf enjoyed running the daily operations.
“As smooth as a babe’s arse,” Wolf muttered, still vexed with his siblings.
“Excellent.” Jasper’s expression turned grim. “Then let us proceed to the most important matter of all.”
“Loge,” Hart said needlessly.
Their brother was never far from any of their minds. Not when they had believed him dead, and most certainly not now that they knew him to be alive.
“I’ve heard back from the men I’ve engaged to make discreet inquiries about Archer Tierney and Mr. Martin,” Jasper said. “It would seem moneylending ain’t all that’s being practiced at Tierney’s establishment.”
That was what Wolf had feared. A sinister feeling swept through him. “What do you mean, it ain’t all?”
“I’m not certain yet,” Jasper answered slowly, passing a hand over his jaw in a weary gesture Wolf recognized, for he often made it himself; it was a Sutton trait. “What I do know is that if Loge was willing to abandon this family as he did, there’s got to be sufficient reason. It means he is involved in something that’s dangerous for either him or for us, or for all of us.”
Something dangerous. It made sense. But what?
“What the bleeding hell could be more dangerous than running a gaming hell in the East End and contending with bloodthirsty bastards like the Bradleys?” Hart asked, giving voice to the questions in Wolf’s own mind.
Hart had recently been stabbed in a fray with the Bradleys, the family who owned a rival gaming hell. Despite Wolf’s best efforts at sewing him up, Hart’s wound had become infected, and if not for the intervention of their sister Caro, they would have lost him. No one knew better than Hart just how dangerous the damned Bradleys were.
“That’s what troubles me,” Jasper admitted, worry evident in his voice and his countenance both. “I aim to go to Tierney’s place myself, to see if there’s anything I can find out.”
“I’ll accompany you,” Wolf volunteered.
“And me,” said Rafe.
“I’m bleeding coming too,” Hart offered almost in unison. “If danger is involved, then you aren’t going alone. I’ll be damned if I lose another brother.”
“Here now.” Jasper raised a dark brow. “Did I say I’d be needing accompaniment? Do I look like a granny who needs to be protected?”
Wolf cocked his head. “You are getting a bit gray at the temples. And quite domesticated now that Lady Octavia is leading you about by the nutmegs.”
“Quite full of yourself now that you’ve tupped your first wench, ain’t you?” Jasper returned.
Blast his brothers. They were a curse and a blessing all at once.
“I didn’t tup anyone,” he snapped.
Because tupping was a paltry way of describing what had happened last night. And Portia was not just any wench, whose name was to be bandied about. She was…special. But he’d sooner strut bare-arsed through the gaming rooms than admit that to the trio of beloved scoundrels facing him now.
“Of course you didn’t,” Rafe said, his tone making it clear that Wolf wasn’t believed.
That was bloody fine. They could suspect all they wished, but that didn’t mean he was going to tell them a damned thing. Portia was his.
Not his.
Not truly.
She was a widowed countess with a young son who was the earl, and she had someone in her life giving her cause to fear. The reminder set his teeth on edge and had him grinding his molars. But there was nothing he could do to aid her here and now.
“When do you propose we go to Tierney’s?” he asked Jasper instead of addressing his brothers’ thinly veiled innuendos.
“Tomorrow seems as good a day as any,” Jasper said. “I’ve men watching Tierney’s and Loge’s every move, and they’ll let me know if anything changes.”
Hart nodded. “Excellent plan. We can’t afford to let Tierney slip away, and now that we’ve found Loge, we can’t lose him.”
And hopefully, they could convince him to return to the family, regardless of what he had done and what dangers he faced. They were Suttons first, and they were loyal to each other. That had to count for something.
At least, Wolf hoped it did.
“It’s settled then,” Rafe agreed. “Tomorrow, we infiltrate that den of thieves and bring our brother out kicking and screaming if we must.”
“We’ll manage,” Jasper said tightly. “Now then, I suppose we ought to find our youngest sister.”
“What manner of trouble could she be in?” Rafe asked. “Our Lily is an angel.”
Wolf was reasonably sure there was nothing angelic about what Lily had been doing in secret, particularly at Bellingham and Co., but he refrained from voicing his concerns. After all, whatever Loge was involved in was likely far, far worse than any manner of mischief Lily could entangle herself in. And Wolf had a countess to worry over now.
He had to find a way to help protect Portia.
And to see her again.
Soon.
* * *