promise to deal with him.”
Lily gazed up at him warily, clearly reluctant to accept his help. “This really is not your concern, you know.”
“I am making it my concern.” Heath’s gaze intensified. “You don’t want to fight me on this, Lily. You won’t win.”
“You promise to stop O’Rourke from hurting Fanny again?”
“You have my solemn word.”
He waited as Lily debated with herself, feeling an overwhelming need to wrap her in his arms and protect her from herself. She was magnificent in her fury, and he admired her loyalty to her friends, but he wanted to know that she was safe. Accosting O’Rourke in his lair was only asking for trouble, if not actual danger, and he was not about to let her attempt it.
When Lily nodded once, brusquely, Heath tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and hid a smile of relief and satisfaction.
He had wanted the chance to slay dragons for Lily. It was merely that the opportunity had arrived much sooner than he’d planned.
O’Rourke’s gaming club was situated just off Bond Street, not far from the boardinghouse, so Heath’s carriage reached it shortly. The decor was expensive with pretensions to gentility, he saw when he was admitted by a well-muscled bruiser. He found O’Rourke in his office at the rear of the gaming rooms, sitting behind his desk.
Sporting ebony hair and a burly build, O’Rourke somewhat resembled the ruffians Lily had confronted in the alley last week. His facial features were square and rugged, with a nose that had been broken at least once.
When Heath was shown in, the gamester’s expression registered surprise and wariness, but he rose politely.
“Lord Claybourne…to what do I owe this honor?” he asked, taking obvious care with his diction.
“I gather you know who I am,” Heath replied.
“Naturally. I make it my business to know all the nabobs in London.” O’Rourke hesitated. “And I saw you at the jades’ house last week.”
Heath raised an eyebrow. “Jades?”
“Fleur and Chantel. You were on the stairs as I was leaving.”
“When you were unceremoniously evicted, you mean.”
A muscle flexed O’Rourke’s jaw, but he held on to his temper as he gestured at a wooden chair set in front of his desk. “Would you care to be seated, milord?”
“Thank you, no. My business won’t take long.”
Heath had kept his hat and walking stick upon being admitted, and O’Rourke surveyed the stick measuringly before locking gazes again with his guest. “I’ll wager I know the purpose of your visit, milord.”
“Do you?”
“You’ve come on behalf of those bawds.”
“In part. I am more concerned about your mistreatment of Miss Irwin.”
The heavy black brows snapped together. “What do you mean, mistreatment? I never laid a hand on Fanny.”
“Indeed? You split her lip and left bruises on her jaw from your grip.”
His expression turned bewildered. “I never meant to. I would never hurt Fanny. I love her.”
“You have a curious way of showing love.”
“Is that so?” O’Rourke’s tone held a hint of belligerence. “What is it to you, your lordship? Fanny hasn’t taken up with you, has she?”
“If you mean, am I enjoying her services, then no. But she is under my protection all the same. Miss Irwin is a friend of a friend.”
Nodding as if in understanding, O’Rourke sank back into his chair. “So that’s the way of it? You’re hot for that little firebrand who attacked me.”
Heath felt his mouth twitch at the suitability of the term for Lily. “You might put it that way. I hope to make that little firebrand my wife someday, and the well-being of her friends is of grave importance to her, and therefore to me.”
“Did she send you here?”
“I volunteered.” Heath smiled rather coldly. “You should consider yourself fortunate that I stopped her from coming here herself. She was quite eager to have your blood.”
“And you are not?”
“Let us say I am willing to settle for a warning. If you hurt Miss Irwin again-if you so much as damage a hair on her head-you will answer to me.”
The gamester stared back. “What will you do, your lordship, call me out? That would hardly be fair, considering that you’re one of the premiere swordsmen in London.”
“I daresay in England,” Heath returned mildly. “And I am accounted a fair shot as well.” In truth he was a deadly shot, as he suspected O’Rourke would know.
The man glanced down to where Heath had rested his hands on the gold knob of his walking stick. “That is a swordstick, or I miss my guess.”
“I make it a policy never to confront an opponent unarmed.”
“I am not your enemy, milord.”
“You will be if you persist in ill-using Miss Irwin.”
O’Rourke visibly clenched his teeth. “So you will meet me at dawn some morning?”
“That is one possibility,” Heath replied. “Or I could pursue an alternate course. It might pain you more to be forced to close the doors to your club.”
The threat made O’Rourke scowl harder. “You mean you would drive me out of business.”
“If I must. I have no compunction about crushing a man who abuses women.” Heath paused to let that sink in before saying in a leading tone, “A gaming hell’s reputation is a fragile thing, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. O’Rourke? If word were to get out about certain dishonest dealings…”
“I run an honest establishment!”
“So I understand. But rumors of cheating are difficult to quell.”
His anger was evident, but he merely demanded, “What do you want of me, Lord Claybourne?”
“I told you. I want you to keep your hands off Miss Irwin.”
“Very well, I will!” he snapped.
“And I want you to withdraw your threat of imprisoning her friends.”
“Why the devil should I? That debt was entirely legit.”
“Legal perhaps, but still underhanded. You lured them to your Faro table and staked them well beyond their means to pay. But regardless of how the debt came about, they should have the funds to repay you shortly. If not I will cover the debt in full.”
When O’Rourke continued to glare, Heath smiled amiably. “I could have brought a draft from my bank today, but my ‘firebrand,’ as you call her, is rather proud and independent and wishes to handle the problem on her own, so I won’t interfere unless absolutely necessary. But one way or another, Mr. O’Rourke, you will be repaid.”
O’Rourke shook his head in irritation. “I don’t want your blunt, milord.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Fanny. I want Fanny.”
Heath settled into the proffered chair after all. He had suspected something of the sort. “Would you care to explain?”
O’Rourke’s grimace was part vexed, part rueful. “I’ve been head over ears for Fanny since the first time I saw her. I was her first protector, in fact.”
“But she didn’t return the sentiment.”
The gamester’s mouth twisted bitterly. “Not back then. Even when I offered to make her respectable and wed her, Fanny turned me down cold. She was sixteen and wanted the grand life I couldn’t give her at the time. I’m rich as Croesus now and could set her up in comfort for life, but she still won’t bite at matrimony. Says she doesn’t
