Beguiled by a Baron (The Heart of a Duke Book 14)(6)

Stubborn as the day was long, Jeremy tightened his mouth and met that order with silence.

Vail lowered his head. “Are we clear?”

“Aye, guv’nor.” Jeremy touched the brim of his cap in a smart salute. Vail, however, had told enough lies in his life to recognize them even now in this boy. Jeremy Jon was too proud to ask him for a pence more than he was paid. He’d rather rob and steal than humble himself.

“What have you heard?” he asked from the side of his mouth, as he tugged free his gloves and stuffed them in his jacket.

“Stanwicke was meetin’ wit someone about that book.” Whatever given assignment he doled out for the child, no titles, authors, or specifics were mentioned beyond the first time.

“And?”

“He was asking if he’d the funds to beat yar offer.”

Beat his offer. Vail smiled coolly. The Earl of Stanwicke, notorious collector who’d beggared his family and estates to grow his obsession. Crazed as too many lords often were and all the while Vail profited. “Who was the gentleman?”

“A Lord Derby, sir.” Jeremy adjusted the brim of his cap. “Tall. Bald. But he was dressed loike ’e wasn’t a lord.”

Vail glanced to the doorway of the Coaxing Tom. Like every other Black Legs, the door hung agape as it did morn through night, inviting the weakest of passersby to come sit at the tables and toss down their fortunes. “When did they meet?”

“Two in St. James’ Street, guv’nor.”

Of course. Two lords choosing to meet in the respectable ends of the Dials, they’d not think Vail, ruthless in his business pursuits, would deal on the proper side of London. What they’d miscalculated were the people he had all over London who brought him information just like that shared by Jeremy. “You’ve done well,” he murmured. For the valuably obtained information, he slipped Jeremy another purse.

His informant hesitated, but then shot greedy fingers out and gathered the velvet sack. “Do yar need anything else, guv’nor?”

“Watch Atlas for now.” He glanced about. “I’ll also need you to monitor Derby when he comes ’round. See who he talks to.” The Earl of Derby didn’t deal directly or indirectly with Vail for his purchases and sales. As such, he wanted to know precisely who that nobleman’s connections were.

“Aye, sir.”

Angling his head slightly in that unspoken command he’d given Jeremy at the onset of their partnership, the boy bustled off with Atlas. A carriage rumbled by and Vail waited for it to pass. Then he made his way through the crowded streets. Where the fashionable end of London would be quiet in preparation for the upcoming balls and soirees, this hour was when the seediest hells and streets came to life. Senses alert for the hint of threat, he skimmed his gaze over his surroundings.

Where most every other titled gentleman saw in this area a place for inanity and wicked pursuits, Vail recognized the danger here. And he thrilled in it. His stare alighted on Mr. Andrew Barrett. Brother-in-law to his best friend, Nick Tallings, the Duke of Huntly, the young man had acquired a reputation for being a reprobate like his nearly impoverished father. The younger man wound his way through the streets and then entered through the open doors of The Pill Gilder. Vail gave his head a disgusted shake at the gentleman’s lack of awareness of his surroundings. These areas would see a man, regardless of station, with a blade in his belly.

Vail climbed the steps of the Coaxing Tom. The loud din of raucous laughter attacked his ears. The pungent floral fragrances worn by the whores and gentlemen alike flooded his nose. Long ago, he’d become immune to those cloying scents. With a narrow-eyed gaze, he surveyed the crowded rooms.

The guards stationed at the front door gave him a quick once-over, and then nodded in recognition. “Yar Lordship.”

Silent, Vail lifted his head in greeting. Business drove his purpose this evening. He spied Lord Derby seated at a back table. Portly, with bewhiskered cheeks, the man stole nervous glances about.

Yes, the bookish scholars Vail dealt with were men out of their element in these wicked hells. It was why he’d made a point early in his career to conduct all appointments inside one hell or another. Brooke’s or White’s put a gentleman at ease. Places such as the Coaxing Tom stripped a man of his usual control. Black cloak swirling about his ankles, Vail stalked through the club.

A voluptuous blonde-haired beauty stepped into his path. “Your Lordship,” she purred, pressing herself against his chest. “How lovely it is to see you.” Nearly eight inches shorter than his own six-feet four-inches, she had to go up on tiptoe to reach his mouth. She placed a kiss at the corner of his lips.

Vail lazily wrapped a hand about her waist and pulled her closer. “How long?”

“Been here for nearly an hour,” she whispered close to his ear.

Maintaining the fa?ade, he angled her head and pressed his lips to her throat. “Any company?”

She arched her head back and emitted an exaggerated moan. “None. Has a bag under his table. A pistol in his breeches that he keeps flashing when he checks his timepiece,” the whore, Tabitha, said, barely parting her lips as she spoke.

To anyone observing them, they were no different than every other lord with wandering hands and an eager whore. Since the first time he’d taken Tabitha to the rooms abovestairs nearly four years earlier, however, they’d struck an unexpected-to-Society relationship. One devoid of any carnality, despite Tabitha’s occasional offer to bed him. Theirs was strictly a business arrangement. She was his eyes and ears inside this club and when word needed to reach him, she found a way.