Viscount’s Wager

by Ava March

  “Stop.” Carter didn’t shout. He spoke firmly, a man accustomed to others heeding his wishes. “Or Mr. Tilden here gets a taste of my blade.”

  Morgan immediately took a step back, but Drake stood his ground, his knife still poised at the thug’s side.

  “Please, let him go,” Gabriel called to Drake, voice strong. “These are my debts and mine alone. And I am overdue on repaying them by over a month. I do not fault Mr. Carter for his frustration with me.”

  Drake’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t move a muscle.

  “While I appreciate your efforts, they are not necessary,” Gabriel added. “Please. Let him go.”

  Drake’s mouth thinned in annoyance. Then he finally took a step back, his arm falling to his side.

  “Thank you,” Carter said, the sarcasm clear in his tone. “Drop the knife. Then the two of you, over there.” He nodded toward the corner of the room.

  Morgan looked to Drake. A moment passed, then Drake gave a short, single nod and both men complied with Carter’s demand. Though neither appeared pleased. An odd combination of barely leashed anger and disappointment—not at Gabriel, but at himself—radiated from Morgan, while Drake’s apparent calm couldn’t disguise the cold fury in his blue eyes.

  A look Carter must have recognized, for he said, “Try anything else, and Mr. Tilden will not see the dawn.” Carter turned his attention to Anthony. “You will cover the difference?”

  “Yes,” Anthony said, his attention fixed on Gabriel’s neck, on the blade still held there. “If you will remove that knife from his throat.”

  “A simple enough request.” The press of steel left Gabriel’s skin, yet Gabriel could see the blade from the corner of his eye. Carter clearly wasn’t a simpleton. He wasn’t going to drop his arm to his side, not with Drake and Morgan in the room. “Now, where is the money?”

  Gabriel gritted his teeth, held back another round of protests. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed Anthony’s help. Therefore, he should keep his mouth shut and accept Anthony’s generosity...though he would definitely find some way to repay Anthony in the future.

  “I don’t have two thousand pounds with me,” Anthony said. “I have to go to London—to the Bank of England there—to withdraw the money.”

  “A bank draft will do.”

  Anthony’s gaze dropped briefly to his lap before meeting Carter’s once again. “I don’t utilize bank drafts. Prefer hard coin over slips of paper.”

  Of course. Anthony couldn’t read or write, so he couldn’t make use of bank drafts. Gabriel wondered how Anthony had got by while keeping his issue such a well-guarded secret. To Gabriel’s knowledge, bank drafts were commonly used by wealthy gentlemen. It wasn’t practical to carry around hundreds or thousands of pounds. And Anthony was a viscount. He must have a secretary or man of affairs who tended to business matters for him, though Gabriel couldn’t recall Anthony ever mentioning such a man.

  “Well then, we shall go to London.” Carter looked to the man standing near the door. “Green, go retrieve the gentlemen’s clothes from the bedchamber, and find some rope while you are at it.”

  * * *

  As the carriage neared London, the great expanses of open fields had given way to streets lined with buildings and town houses. There was barely a cloud in the sky. Anthony blinked against the force of the morning sun. His eyelids felt heavy from a night interrupted by frequent stops to change the horses, and he was in sore need of a shave.

  After having the trunks strapped to the boot, Carter had insisted they travel straight to London, no stays at an inn along the way. They’d only been allowed to stop to see to the team, use the necessary, and for one of Carter’s men to procure meals for them, which they had eaten in the carriage.

  Anthony was damned tired of this bloody carriage. The springs were in need of replacement, a stale musty scent hung in the air, the benches were not comfortable in the slightest and it definitely had not been designed to hold six men. To call the interior cramped would be an understatement. If he had been pressed up against Gabriel, he wouldn’t have minded. But Gabriel sat across from him, a situation of Carter’s design. Yet with all the discomforts of traveling for over a day, Anthony dreaded actually leaving the carriage.

  Because the next time Carter would allow him to step outside would mean they had reached the Bank of England.

  Though it was November and the air was on the brisk side, a trickle of sweat slid down Anthony’s neck beneath his shirt collar.

  A knee nudged his own. Anthony pulled his attention from the window.

  Gabriel didn’t need to say a word. The look in his eyes said everything. What’s the matter?

  Anthony shook his head and made an attempt at a smile.

  Gabriel’s brows lowered.

  Damnation, Gabriel had seen right through that smile.

  Anthony gave a slight nudge of his chin toward the brute of a man seated beside him, head tipped back and mouth open in sleep. He needs to bathe, Anthony mouthed.

  Brows still lowered, Gabriel gave his head a short shake.

  Hell. Gabriel wasn’t buying that excuse. Anthony racked his brain.

  Morgan and Drake, Anthony mouthed.

  Gabriel’s lips thinned. He must be concerned about them. Anthony hadn’t wanted to mention the two men, but he hadn’t been able to think of another excuse for the worry that Gabriel was obviously detecting from him. Gabriel had been upset Carter had insisted on having Morgan and Drake tied to the armchairs and left at the house. Had gone on about how they could be left for days and starve. Carter had been deaf to his worries. Anthony, though, wasn’t all that worried for the men’s welfare. He had a strong feeling Drake wasn’t the sort who would remain bound for long, and he doubted the armchair was up to the task of containing Morgan’s strength. The two men knew where Anthony and Gabriel were headed. If he didn’t see them by the end of the day, then he and Gabriel would travel back up to Derbyshire. He highly doubted it would come to that, though.

  Anthony lifted a shoulder. They’ll be all right.

  Gabriel held his gaze, unconvinced. I’m sorry. Anthony read the words on his lips.

  And hell, they were back on I’m sorry again. Over a day in a carriage, and Gabriel hadn’t let much more than an hour go by without conveying some form of an apology to Anthony. As if Gabriel needed something else to feel guilty about.

  Stop. Anthony nudged Gabriel’s knee with his own.

  Gabriel scowled at him.

  Once the situation with Gabriel’s debts was behind them, Anthony knew he would be facing another battle to get Gabriel to let go of this new guilt. Yet if their circumstances were reversed, he’d feel much the same as Gabriel. Embarrassed, ashamed and at fault for their current predicament. And therefore, Anthony would do everything in his power to make sure Gabriel understood that he loved him all the same.

  First, though, they needed to put the debts behind them. They were driving through the streets of London to do that very thing. But whether Anthony could help Gabriel with his debts was, in fact, a very big unknown.

  An unknown that weighed on his shoulders. Pressing harder and harder as they neared the Bank of England.

  What if there wasn’t enough in the account? What would he do then? And what if there was just enough? Could he hand it over to Carter knowing full well he then wouldn’t be able to support his mother and siblings?

  The carriage rolled to a stop.

  Anthony didn’t need to look out the window to know they had arrived.

  “Green will follow you in,” Carter said. “He’ll stay a distance back, but he’ll keep an eye on you. Go to the counter, make the withdrawal then return to the carriage. Mr. Tilden will remain with me until you hand over the money. And then we can part ways.”

  Anthony nodded once. Gabriel opened his mouth. Before
his lover could start up another round of protests, Anthony exited the carriage, gave his waistcoat a tug to straighten it and walked up the steps to the Bank of England, a giant shadow of a man not far on his heels.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Gabriel watched as Anthony disappeared into the Bank of England. A moment later, and Green’s broad back disappeared into the bank, as well. The journey to London had been a trying ordeal, but at least he’d had Anthony with him. Now, though?

  Worry and fear spiked, overwhelming the guilt. But there was really no reason to worry. Green wouldn’t do Anthony in, not while inside a public bank. And the carriage was stationed just outside the bank, curricles and other carriages and men on horseback passing them by on the busy street. Anthony was not in any sort of danger. At least not immediate danger.

  Turning to Carter, Gabriel asked, “You will let us go once he returns with the money?”

  “Of course,” Carter said, looking for all the world as if Gabriel had delivered the sharpest of insults. “What do you take me for? I am an honest businessman, simply trying to get back what is owed to me.”

  Honest businessman? Gabriel held back his opinion on that statement. Given his present circumstances, it was likely wisest for him to hold his tongue.

  His true thoughts must have shown themselves on his face, however, for Carter added, hardened steel leaching into his tone, “Honest men keep their commitments. If you had paid me on the agreed-upon date, you would have been spared the unpleasantness of the prior night. I do not tolerate those who lie to me.”

  “I did not—” Gabriel snapped his jaw shut and turned his head, looking back out the window.

  He had told Carter he would pay him by the agreed-upon date, yet he had not followed through on his word. In essence, he had lied to Carter.

  That realization did not sit well. And the fact Carter was an unscrupulous creditor of questionable morals did not justify Gabriel’s behavior.

  “I apologize for the delay,” Gabriel said, forcing out the apology but unable to actually look Carter in the eye. “I should have retrieved the deed and handed it over by the date we agreed upon. But I knew it alone would not be enough and I needed time to raise the remainder of the funds. Though I did fully intend to repay you. My claim to such was not a fabrication the prior night.”

  A snort of contempt sounded from the opposite bench. Had to have come from Carter. “For all I know, you and your friend were preparing to flee the country.”

  “We were doing no such thing.” Was that what Carter believed? It would explain why he had not let Gabriel or Anthony out of his sight since tracking them down in Derbyshire. A part of him bristled at Carter’s belief that he had intended to duck out of paying the man completely. Yet he also couldn’t fault Carter for his assumption. The loans had been overdue by several weeks, and likely Carter had had others leave the country who had been unable to settle their debts.

  Silence fell over the carriage, Gabriel’s attention trained on the Bank of England, waiting for Anthony to emerge. As the minutes passed, the worry spiked anew. Try as Gabriel might, he couldn’t reason it away. And Anthony had been so very...tense this morning. Had it merely been a by-product of their unpleasant situation, or had there been more to it?

  Was Anthony upset with him? Was Anthony now having doubts about a relationship with him? If so, then he honestly couldn’t fault Anthony for his doubts. No one wanted to have to help a lover pay off gambling debts. And to have been dragged to London to do it?

  Gabriel’s heart ached at the prospect of losing Anthony. And it hurt so much more for having believed not two days ago that he and Anthony would have a future together.

  But he shouldn’t jump to assumptions, he reminded himself. Just because Anthony had evaded Gabriel’s attempt to question him once already did not mean Anthony was having doubts about a forever together. If nothing else, Gabriel needed to learn from his past mistakes. Anthony hadn’t looked on him with contempt or pity, or turned away from him, when Gabriel had confessed the full depths of his gambling problem. The worst possible outcome had not come to fruition. His lover had been open and understanding. And therefore, Gabriel needed to talk with Anthony once they were alone, discover the true source of the tension that had caused a furrow to affix itself to Anthony’s forehead as they had entered London.

  The front door of the bank opened and Anthony emerged. His expression was blank, his strides tight and lacking the loose ease with which he normally moved.

  As Anthony approached the carriage, Carter opened the door. “Inside,” the man said, with a nudge of his head toward the interior.

  Anthony stopped before the open door. He gave Gabriel a quick glance, as if he were simply a stranger occupying the carriage, then Anthony turned his attention to Carter. “That’s quite all right.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the thick fold of pound notes. Rather than handing the money over to Carter, he dropped his arm to his side, Carter’s gaze following his every move. “If you want it, then allow Mr. Tilden to exit the carriage.” Anthony pitched his voice low so Carter could hear him, but not loud enough to attract the attention of passersby. “Rest assured, I will hand it over. Your men wouldn’t let us get far if I tried to make off with it.”

  Carter swept his gaze over Anthony’s face. Without so much as looking in Gabriel’s direction, he pointed to the door. “Out with you.”

  Ducking to fit through the narrow door, Gabriel stepped out onto the walkway. He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around Anthony. Instead, he made do with standing beside him, but close enough so his shoulder brushed Anthony’s, needing some sort of contact with his lover.

  Rather than look to Gabriel, Anthony kept his attention pinned on the creditor. “This is the last of it, correct? Once I hand this over, you will forget about us?”

  “Yes and yes,” Carter said, with an impatient little motion of his hand.

  Crossing the half pace of distance to the door, Anthony reached out and handed the fold to Carter. The man snatched it from Anthony’s hand. He flipped through the pound notes and rapped twice on the interior wall.

  Gabriel was nudged aside as Green moved forward to snap the door shut, then the man stepped up back into his spot beside the driver on the driver’s bench. There was a crack of leather lines, and the carriage lurched forward, leaving Anthony and Gabriel on the walkway.

  A great wave of relief should have been washing over him. And he was definitely relieved to have Anthony by his side and the ordeal over with. Yet...

  “Thank you, Anthony. I will most definitely repay you. And I am so sorry—”

  “Not here,” Anthony said, with a curt, short shake of his head. “We can go to my bachelor apartments. Hell, I need a shave.”

  That worry gave his stomach a fierce wrench. “I’ll hail us a hackney.”

  Anthony looked up and down Threadneedle Street. “No need.”

  A traveling carriage was coming down the street toward them, a giant of a man in the driver’s bench with another man sitting beside him.

  Morgan and Drake?

  Where had they come from?

  Morgan pulled the team of four to a stop directly in front of Anthony and Gabriel, taking up the space Carter’s carriage had vacated moments prior. Drake hopped down from the driver’s bench.

  “Are you both all right?” Drake asked.

  “We’re fine,” Anthony said, though he looked anything but fine. That furrow had affixed itself back on his forehead, tight lines bracketing his mouth. “Just in need of a wash and a change of clothes. Can Morgan take us to my bachelor apartments?”

  “Yes, of course, Lord Rawling.”

  “You followed us all the way to London?” Gabriel asked. “But they left you tied to the armchairs.”

  Drake opened the carriage door and motioned them inside. “Shall we continue
our discussion on our way to his lordship’s apartments?” He looked to Anthony. “Morgan will need an address.”

  Anthony gave Morgan the direction then followed Gabriel inside the carriage. Gabriel pushed a few bags that had been on the bench onto the floor, making room for Anthony to sit beside him. One of the bags was a saddlebag, which looked very similar to the one Anthony had arrived in Derbyshire with. A couple were completely unfamiliar to him, but two others appeared to have come from his own closet.

  “Did you pack for us?” Gabriel asked, as Drake settled across from him.

  “That was Morgan’s doing. Hope it wasn’t too much of an imposition. He insisted we grab a few things given he didn’t believe you’d be allowed to return to the house. And indeed, we did follow you to London, and the ropes didn’t pose any problems. I had us freed in a thrice.”

  Anthony bumped Gabriel’s elbow. “I told you they’d be all right. Morgan and Drake are resourceful fellows.”

  “Much thanks for the confidence, Lord Rawling.” A touch of a pleased smile tipped the edges of Drake’s mouth. Then he shifted his attention back to Gabriel. “We could have intercepted that bastard’s carriage, but I didn’t think you’d approve, Mr. Tilden. Not with the way you insisted back at the house that they were your debts and your responsibility. Instead, we followed at a distance, and I asked at the posting inns you stopped at to be certain he hadn’t done you both any harm.”

  “You were correct,” Gabriel said. “And you have my thanks, Mr. Drake, for not interfering.” Carter might claim to be an honest businessman, but Gabriel could still remember the feel of his blade against his neck. If something were to have happened to Drake or Morgan or Anthony, Gabriel would have never been able to forgive himself.

  Drake tipped his head, accepting the thanks. “But we could have taken that lot.”

  “I’m well aware,” Gabriel said. “But the cost might have been too high. And the debts would have still been hanging over my head, and Carter would have simply kept coming back for his money. Now it is resolved. Over and behind us. And I never have to deal with him again.”