Nick hissed. Love and respect him? He imagined the witches cared for him, much like one would dote on a pet. But why would they respect him? He couldn’t do what they did. Even Ariana was growing tired of him and his uselessness. His life had to be here and now. He wanted it to be, but as he watched his former friends continue their debauchery, he saw how tattered and broken he’d become. He was cowering behind the spell of a man he despised, hiding from men who despised him. Even if he managed to pay everyone back, no one would trust him again. A good marriage was off the table.
He sat there sullenly. As much as he didn’t feel like he belonged with the witches, it seemed his only recourse. If only Milo would leave off haranguing him about his macabre plan, he could probably live quite peacefully with Ariana for the rest of their lives. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the loud talk at the next table. The men were now speaking bawdily about someone’s mistress and her antics. He tried to block them out.
“Ariana loves me,” he said, embarrassed that his thought had slipped out for Milo to hear.
The wretched man snickered and his eyes gleamed. “Oh, certainly.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, she most certainly does love you. I only found it amusing that your ego has been so battered by those lordlings that you couldn’t remember that. I’m also certain you love her as well.”
Nick grimaced, angry again that Milo had gotten under his skin. “Of course I do.” He knew the nagging to stick to the plan was about to begin and he wanted no part of it.
“It doesn’t bother you at all how devoted she is to that cousin of hers? I mean, he isn’t really her cousin. You know the one— she’s constantly on the scryers to keep an eye on him. I heard she was quite distraught when they lost sight of him.”
“Shut up, Milo.”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”
Nick made a slicing motion with his hand. “No, really. Shut up, Milo.” He’d heard another name pop out from the gamblers and his interest in their conversation was once again piqued. He could have sworn he heard them say something about Ashford.
“I’ve heard she’s a wild one,” one of them said.
“Ashford’s new tart?” another asked.
Nick could see that Milo’s eyes were almost wild with glee at this new turn. Was he orchestrating this newest humiliation?
“You didn’t hear the latest, did you?” Giles placed his cards down and settled back to properly tell his story. “This new mistress, some foreigner— American maybe? Oh, you chaps will love this. She actually broke Nick Kerr’s nose!” They all chorused their disbelief and Giles shushed them so he could continue. “On my honor. I was there and saw the bloody aftermath myself. Lillian Aimsley told me he was taking liberties with her and she let him have it.”
“He’s lucky it was just a woman decking him and not Ashford. I hear he’s quite territorial.”
Giles chuckled. “Woman or no, she packed a wallop.”
“I’ll have to thank her should we ever meet.”
They laughed some more while Nick burned with humiliation at the memory. He barely refrained from touching the bridge of his nose, not wanting to give Milo the satisfaction. He already seemed far too satisfied. The serving girl dropped plates of pork cutlets heaped high with potatoes in front of them. The savory aroma did nothing to tempt his shriveled appetite.
Milo dug in, smacking heartily on a mouthful of potatoes. “I’m telling you, none of this matters.” He shrugged in the direction of the men. “You have riches and capabilities at your disposal that they could never imagine. That lot is nothing compared to the powerful men and women you could lead.”
Nick wanted to believe it, that the witches loved and respected him like Milo had said. He’d seen their sidelong glances, looks of mild pity, and knew he didn’t really belong with them. But he didn’t belong here anymore, either. Even if his investment panned out, he’d never have the wealth that Ariana had accumulated. It was more than his brother and Ashford combined.
“I just don’t know why you care when you already have everything you could ever want,” Milo said. “When you could have so much more than that.”
More raucous laughter erupted from the next table and Nick clenched his fists, itching to overturn the table and smash each of their faces in turn. He locked eyes with Milo, and finally understood what the horrid little man had been trying to tell him. His ex-compatriots really didn’t matter. Not if he had such a vast fortune under his control. He could do anything he wanted. Destroy the lives of those petty, sniveling men, or benevolently let them go. He liked the idea of himself as a benevolent leader of great and powerful people, everyone in his former life mere dust under his boots.
“Very well,” he said, overcome with exhaustion. “Let’s go back.”
Chapter 10
Dexter reached to shut off the clanging alarm and immediately rolled over to make sure he hadn’t awakened Emma. She could wake up to a gently strumming guitar but he needed a veritable klaxon to get him out of bed. It was usually Emma who got up first to make breakfast, but she’d told him the night before they’d have to survive on cereal because she was going to need the extra sleep to keep from strangling either Dahlia or Ariana.
He smiled at the dark lashes that curled against her pale cheeks, feeling a stab of guilt. He couldn’t help but wonder if it was his presence in their lives that made Dahlia act out. For the most part he thought they got along swimmingly, but every once in
