“I think it’s time to call it a night,” announced Jason Thompson, Earl of Asthey. He ran his fingers through his dark blond hair and grinned like a cat that’d caught the prize mouse. “It’s been a productive night.”
At least it was going well for one of them. “I’m ready too.” He threw his cards on the table. “I’ve lost too much as it is.” And he had very little he could afford to lose. His grandfather still held onto most of the purse strings. Somehow, the duke had found a way to gain control over a large part of his inheritance. Jonas had won his independence a year ago, but he wasn’t truly free. The one thing he had left that the duke couldn’t touch was a tiny sum his maternal grandmother had left him. It barely gave him enough to live on. He needed to figure out how to raise his income, but he was at a loss on how.
“That’s a shame,” Asthey said. “Winning big would solve a lot of your woes.”
Jonas rolled his eyes. “I need more than I’d win in a few hands of cards to solve all that.” It might help if his grandfather decided to roll over and die, but no, that wouldn’t happen. The old man was too bullheaded to do anything as congenial as save the world from his type of meanness. “Where is Shelby?” Gregory Cain, the Earl of Shelby, was the other member of their trio. Jonas scanned the room for Shelby’s midnight locks. They were his trademark. No one else had hair quite as sinfully dark as his. His friend was nowhere to be seen in the gaming hell.
“He found a light-skirt to his liking and appropriated a room for a bit of sport.”
Of course he did… Shelby was quite the rake, and relished in ravishing any willing female in his vicinity. “Should we wait?”
“He knows his way home,” Asthey replied. “I rather not wait on him to finish. He might take all night, or he could come out in an hour. It’s hard to say with him.”
“You’re right,” Jonas agreed. He stood and pulled on his jacket and buttoned it over his waistcoat. “I’m tired and would rather sleep in my own bed.”
They both headed to the front door and exited the gaming hell. It was still quite dark, and for once it was a rather clear night in London. The rain had been dreadful for days. The streets were filled with puddles and mud. They walked in silence for a few moments as they headed for a nearby hackney. As they stepped onto the road to cross over to the carriage, Jonas was yanked backward. He fell to the ground, his head smacking against the hard surface.
“Bloody hell,” he said with a groan. “Why’d you do that?”
“I have a message for you.” A big, burly man loomed over Jonas.
Jonas lifted a brow. “You might want to work on your delivery. I won’t be recommending your service to anyone.”
“Don’t need it,” the burly man replied. Jonas couldn’t make out his features in the dark, but felt the sting of a fist hitting his jaw. “The message isn’t the verbal kind.”
Jonas was poised to throw another punch, but was jerked backward before he could land it. The man hit the ground in much the same manner as Jonas had. Served the bastard right… Jonas leapt to his feet before the other man could get up. He rubbed his hand over his sore jaw. “Took you long enough.” He turned to whom he’d thought was Asthey, but was shocked to find Lord Coventry instead.
“Where’s Asthey?”
“There.” Coventry pointed in the distance. He was battling a ruffian of his own. He landed a solid blow, and the man fell to the ground. “What is going on?”
“Unfortunately, this is the work of your grandfather,” he replied. A hint of sadness echoed through his voice. “I heard a rumor and came to investigate the veracity of it.”
“And?” Jonas didn’t like where this conversation was going. His grandfather could do a lot of damage if he wanted to, and it appeared as if he’d decided to employ his power. He had to have all the information Coventry possessed so he could form a plan of his own. His grandfather’s contacts were extensive and his reach even farther. In order to beat him at his own game Jonas might have to fight dirty.
“I’m afraid it was correct by the looks of things,” Coventry answered.
Asthey joined them, shaking his hand in the air as he walked. “That hurts more than I want to admit. I might need to learn a thing or two about throwing a proper punch.”
Coventry nodded. “I might be able to help you both.” He turned to Asthey. “Go inside and fetch your friend, Shelby. I have a proposition for you all.”
Asthey didn’t question Coventry’s order. He nodded and headed back into the gaming hell. Jonas watched him until he disappeared inside, and then turned back to Coventry. “What do you know?”
“Far more than you do,” he replied cryptically. “The duke has plans for you, and he’s not happy with your reluctance to follow them.”
“That’s something I know far too well.” He wished the old man would leave him alone already. “Was this his way of forcing me to go to Southington?”
“I’m not entirely sure what he hoped to accomplish tonight,” Coventry admitted. “I know he arranged it, and I’m here to help if you’ll allow it.”
Jonas was so tired of constantly fighting with his grandfather. There had to be a way to stop him from coming after him again and again. “What do you have in mind?”
Asthey and Shelby came out of the gaming hell and joined them. Shelby carried his cravat in his hand and was straightening his jacket. “This better be important,” Shelby muttered. “The chit was…”
“We don’t need to know,” Asthey said,
