He hurried off to the bar, but not before Nick saw the knowing look on his face. How he hated that man! Only a few more hours, he told himself. Get him to secure you a room, have him be on his way, and hide out until morning.
He knew when he returned from Italy with the funds from his investment, he could make everything right. He’d fix things up in this time, then be on even footing with Ariana. Perhaps he could work it so that they’d be able to visit his brother and sisters one day, have a normal life.
These comforting thoughts got him to somewhat relax his shoulders. He was facing the wall, his cloak covering most of his face, his woolen cap covering his easily recognizable golden hair. The odds were against anyone knowing him. His luck couldn’t be bad all the time.
As Milo returned with two mugs of ale, a rowdy group of men pushed their way through the door. Their jovial voices made Nick shrink further into the corner, stealing away his moment of peace. He could tell by their accents they were from the gentry, slumming and looking for a bit of gambling and rough revelry.
“Friends of yours?” Milo asked, his voice sounding overly loud to Nick’s ears. He stood there openly gawping at the group as if he were waiting for an introduction.
“Sit down and lower your voice,” Nick hissed, shrinking further into the corner. He was trapped now. There was no way he could leave without being seen. He’d have to ride it out and put up with Milo’s infernal mockery. He peeked over his shoulder and his stomach sank. “Yes, they are actually friends of mine,” he said bitterly. “They were once, at least. I doubt they’d be pleased to see me now.”
“Then we won’t invite them to join us,” Milo said. “I ordered us pork and potatoes, which was the only choice I was given. I’m certain we can stay hidden from their view while we dine.” He waved his hand and whispered a few words. “There. As good as invisible to all but the serving wench.”
Nick refused to show outright gratitude, but shrugged out of his heavy cloak with a grim smile. It was stifling so close to the fireplace and now that Milo had cast some sort of spell around them, he could safely take it off and be as comfortable as possible. Not that he would feel truly safe or comfortable until he was well on his way to Italy. If any of his debtors caught up with him, he’d end up in prison or bleeding in an alley. He cursed the delay of the ship.
“Do they have a room available for me?” Nick asked.
“Yes, but I doubt it will be near what you’re accustomed to.”
Nick sighed and sipped his ale, wincing when the group of revelers barked with laughter and settled only one table away from them. He instinctively ducked his head when Giles Brimley stared straight at him. He owed the man a considerable amount. But Milo’s spell held fast and Giles’ gaze skated past him as if he weren’t there. Nick relaxed again, wishing for the thousandth time he had the abilities Milo had.
“What will it be tonight?” Giles boomed as he waved over the serving girl. She looked put upon but dutifully came and took the rowdy gang’s order. Nick was somewhat ashamed. They were really no better than common thugs, and he had once been happy to run with them.
Nick watched as one of the group pulled out a pack of cards and held it up for the rest of the patrons to see. “Who will join us and try their luck?” he called.
A few men looked up and scowled at them, only wanting to have a drink after their long day at the docks. The highborn men were undeterred and began dealing amongst themselves. Nick felt the siren call as the cards flew across the table and landed in front of each man in an enticing pile. What would each hand hold? Fortune or ruin. Sweat beaded at his brow and he forced himself to look away.
“Nasty habit,” Milo said, shaking his head at the gamblers. “But you already know that. Else you wouldn’t be racing off to foreign shores.”
“It’s a sound investment. I’d go even if…” Nick stopped, his ears perking up. Had he heard one of the men say his name?
“Bloody bounder’s been missing for weeks. No one’s seen hide nor hair of the scoundrel.”
“Jeremy’s beside himself, thinks the bastard’s probably been murdered.”
Nick flinched. Yes, they had to be talking about him. His brother thought he was dead? It had never occurred to him that Jeremy would give him a second thought when he ran off with Ariana. He leaned closer even though they were speaking loud enough for anyone in the place to hear.
“It’d be nice to find him if only to get the reward Jeremy’s offering,” Giles said bitterly as he inspected his cards. “God knows it will be the only way I’ll ever be paid what I’m owed.”
“He owes you as well?” A man whose name escaped Nick exclaimed. “He’s been up to his neck with me for months. You’d think he would have learned. I wonder how many others he’s duped? You’d think someone who cheated as much as Nick did would have won more often. Though if there had been a duel, we would have heard of it, don’t you think?”
They all nodded, as gossipy as fishwives. “Probably buggered off to France,” Giles said.
They grumbled and shrugged, muttering good riddance to bad rubbish before changing the subject to mistresses. Nick’s cheeks flamed and he gulped his ale to try and cool his anger.
“What does any of that matter?” Milo asked.
“My reputation and good name shouldn’t matter?” Nick’s voice cracked with outrage. Of course a low life like Milo would never understand.
“Sounds like you have neither.” Milo held up a hand to keep him
