“It’s not yours.”
“Yet.”
If ever a single word sounded like a threat, it was that one. By his own admission, Geoffrey was desperate, and that made him dangerous. Elliott revised his earlier estimate. He would speak with Lord Lucifer within the hour. Meanwhile, he released his hold on the candelabra.
“Take the silver and be gone. You are not welcome here.”
Geoffrey grabbed the heavy piece and brandished it aloft. “Good heavens, you sound like that’s supposed to be a revelation. I haven’t been welcomed in my father’s house since I was in leading strings.” Then he moved casually to the door, picking up the ormolu clock on the way. “Your sister, on the other hand,” he said with a leer, “I find her to be most welcome. Most welcome, indeed.”
It was a lie because Geoffrey’s entire family had objected to the marriage. None of the children had welcomed her nor been remotely kind, which was especially hard as she was younger than the lot of them. But that was water under the bridge. Right now, Elliott had to find a solution for his sister that didn’t involve someone risking the hangman’s noose.
Fortunately, the staff appeared to be on his sister’s side. The butler, Simpson, had been incredibly anxious to have Elliott intercede. In fact, the old guy stood sentry, and his jaw clenched as Geoffrey grabbed his hat and departed.
Meanwhile, Elliott joined Simpson at the door. “Your staff seems to be somewhat thin of sturdy, young footmen,” he said. “It would be a kindness, I think, for you to provide employment for our veterans. They need good work to do.”
Simpson winced. “If I might be candid, my lord?”
“Please.”
“The estate is crumbling. His lordship’s health has been declining, so he has not seen to things as he ought. And so…” He sighed. “There are no funds to pay such new servants.”
That made sense. If the heir was a disaster, too often, the father was as well. “You leave that to me.” He wasn’t exactly flush with money, but for his sister’s welfare, he would find a way to pay for her protection. He only hoped it was enough. “Pray inform my sister and Miss Gohar that I had an appointment and will return in two hours.”
“Of course, my lord.” Then he handed Elliott his hat and bowed deeply before holding open the front door.
Elliott wasted no time in turning the horses’ heads to the Lyon’s Den. He hadn’t seen his quarry except as a glimpse of someone slinking into the shadows last night, but it had been enough. He arrived at the Den during the midafternoon heat, which was more damp than hot. He pushed his way inside and searched until he found Titan plucking a guitar in a dark basement bedroom. His face was tight, and his scarred hand moved with difficulty across the strings. Odd that it was the man’s ears that gave him away. His hair was shorn close, and there was a unique fold of ear that betrayed his identity.
“Luke, what the hell are you doing?” he said by way of greeting. “Your entire family thinks you’re dead.”
The desultory plucking at the instrument stopped. When the man spoke, his words were barely intelligible thanks to a thick accent of no particular origin. “You must be mistaken, milord. I ain’t—”
“Stop it,” Elliott ordered as he stepped inside the dank room and shut the door. “You are Luke, future Earl of Wolvesmead. Your brother and I enjoyed an entire summer crawling around your dilapidated castle with you.” It had been perhaps the best months of his childhood. “Your mother spends hours on her knees every day, praying for your safe return. Does she know you’re alive? Does anyone?”
Luke’s eyes narrowed, but that was the only reaction. He remained as he was, shrouded in shadow with his maimed hand resting lightly on the guitar. “I don’t know what ye mean—”
Elliott blew out a breath. “I’m not here to banter lies with you, Luke. I need your help. Diana is in trouble. You remember her, yes? She’s of an age with you.”
Luke’s head lifted the rest of the way until his haunted eyes looked out from a gaunt face. “I remember her. Married Dunnamore.”
At least he wasn’t denying his identity anymore. “Her stepson Geoffrey is threatening her. I need a man in her house to protect her until I can think of a better solution. I’ve enough to pay you—if you want it—and another footman besides.”
Luke’s mouth twisted down. “I know the blighter. He’s got a crew of fellows who act like a gang of bloody thieves.”
“If they would stop at thievery, I would be less afraid.”
Luke grimaced. “You can’t count on that.”
“I know. Which is why I need you to stop playing wolf pack here and—”
“Play wolf pack there?”
They were referring to what the widow Dove-Lyons called her bouncers. She’d named them her Wolf Pack with Titan (Luke) as their leader. Elliott couldn’t think of a better group to look after his sister. “Do you have trustworthy men who could use the extra blunt?”
“They’re all good men,” Luke snapped.
Of course, they were. Luke wouldn’t tolerate anything less. “Then you’ll help me?”
The man took a while to answer. He stared into the shadows for a moment, and his entire body stilled until he became one with the darkness. But in the end, Luke dipped his chin in agreement. “I will help on one condition.”