“Brothers, my loves, I can get it back, I promise.” Euan croaked raggedly, his Scots accent not the soft, seductive voice I’d known from my youth.
“Did you sell it?” Benjamin Cavendish barked.
“No, no I promise, it was stolen when I had the auction of my father’s collection. I’ll track down this Gentleman Thief, or Dandy Rogue or whatever moniker the fiend is goin’ by these days. I’ll find him, and I’ll get the Staff back if it’s the last thing I do!” Euan said determinedly.
“You were attempting to flee to France!” Cavendish accused.
“No, no, I was following information on the whereabouts of the thief, I swear.” He pleaded. Blake let go of Euan’s hair and pushed him so he sat heavily on his arse. Then Blake began to pace, disgust showing in his scowl.
“I’ve done all I can for our cause, brothers. I provided everythin’ we needed fer the book, I paid fer the binding. I’ve put every last penny I had into our venture.” Euan sobbed.
“And we matched it!” An unidentified acolyte justified with a sneer.
“I know, I know.” Euan placated, his hands raised. There was a moment of silent tension while all sent murderous stares toward Euan and I was fearful someone would give him a thrashing, but Euan said,
“Brother’s, ye must know in your hearts how I love you all. I would be nothing without ye. This problem was not of my making. I am the victim of a master thief. But I will fix this. Please, please give me a chance to prove myself worthy of your love.” He looked up with those beseeching eyes that had melted my core so many times.
I looked away. I could not believe that this simpering wretch was a man I once adored and pined for. I thought, self-piteously, that years of my life had been wasted waiting for Euan to love me. He could never say he truly loved me, but he gave himself and spoke of love so damn easily for this pack of hounds. I was revolted, then I caught myself, and wondered—what kind of cold-hearted monster had I become that I could not feel pity and sorrow for a man who had lost his faith and his path in life? Oh Euan, what happened to you?
The double doors opened again, this time without a warning knock, and for a second I thought Monkman extremely rude. However, a metal cleaner’s pail slid in through the door and then a breath later, a man in a flat cap and a brown caretaker’s overall backed into the room. He was whistling to himself. He held a mop in his hands and was sweeping back and forth seemingly oblivious that he was backing into an occupied room.
“GET OUT!” Benjamin Cavendish roared in a tone that was so horrifying I startled. The man turned a little and with a big floppy walrus mustache and spectacles, I recognized Cavell in disguise immediately, my heart leaped with joy and gratitude that he had not abandoned me. The caretaker did not even flinch with the anger in Cavendish’s order. He nonchalantly leaned the mop against the door jamb, fisted a hand into his overall pocket, removed a rolled-up cigarette, and put it in his mouth, then he struck a Lucifer and lit the cigarette. We stood in stunned silence as a plume of smoke billowed around his head. Then Cavell pulled something else from his pocket that at first glance looked like a large apple. He put to his mouth as if he were taking a bite. Then he turned, and in a lazy Cockney accent, he said
“Oh, I do beg your pardon, gentlemen. Mr. Jennings said I was to scrub the gymnasium floor.” I saw the smoldering wick on the apple-shaped item Cavell held and knew something explosive was about to occur. I was standing at the back of the group of men stupefied by the impertinence of the caretaker. I edged to the side of the group and pulled my neckerchief over my mouth, ready to run.
“Are you bloody deaf? Imbecile. I said GET OUT!” Cavendish roared as if he were talking to riff-raff. But the caretaker didn’t do anything but glance at the strange setup—the group gentlemen in red robes, some still sporting a stiff member, surrounding a naked tearful man on his knees. Cavell’s brows furrowed.
I took a side glance at the pathetic looking Lord Euan Ardmillan and seeing the state of him crushed the joy I’d felt on seeing Sebastian. What would they do to him if he did not find the Staff of Asklepios? It was clear to me now that the cabal planned to use the staff with Leopold and draw on its potent magic. It was a fool’s errand. Not one of these men knew of the power they hoped to play with. They wouldn’t get the chance if I had my way. No one but Sebastian and I knew I possessed the Staff and I would not let it get into the hands of Fratres Seminis.
Euan's eyes pleaded for help. Damn it! I realized that whatever happened, I could not leave him behind to be tortured, or worse. I gave an imperceptible nudge
