The Unquiet - J. D. Robb [49]
“I’ve found a number of things that hold my interest, but all who play here talk more than they gamble.”
“You’re the one who came late and interrupted us,” Tibold griped.
The four settled into several hands, with Tibold still winning steadily. Chase called for higher stakes, which he well knew always made Tibold nervous, and the next round went to Bellwood.
“So how did you meet Mrs. Chernov?” Bellwood asked, proving that copious amounts of wine might slow his brain but did not keep it from working.
Chase weighed his answer and opted for the truth. “She ran into my arms escaping from some bully trying to abduct her.”
Tibold and Bellwood put down their cards. Griffin looked up with a quizzical expression.
“Hey, hey, details, my lord,” Tibold urged.
“What was she doing out alone at night? Or was she not alone?”
He ignored Bellwood’s questions and tried one of his own. “Do any of you know a man named Nesbitt?”
“A gentleman named Nesbitt?” Tibold asked.
“Yes, I know him. Nesbitt the Butcher. He’s most definitely not a gentleman.” Griffin looked at Chase for confirmation. When Chase nodded, Griffin went on. “He’s a bully who can be had for the right price. He runs an operation selling stolen items. He’s moving down in the underworld if he’s taken on abduction.”
It was what Chase suspected, but before he could pursue the subject, Tibold spoke as he stacked the counters. “Are we going to play cards or spend the rest of the night embroiled in one of Chase’s affairs?”
“I just met the woman, and it is not an affair,” Chase clarified, well aware of Mrs. Chernov’s good reputation. “I was very much the gentleman helping a lady in distress.”
“A lovely lady,” Tibold reminded him.
“Are you implying I would have ignored her need if she had been old or ugly?”
“Not at all, I’m sure,” Bellwood intervened.
Chase poured him another glass of wine and repressed his annoyance. Tibold was an idiot who drank and gambled too much. His opinion hardly mattered. “You’re starting to lose, Tibold. A break is just what you need. I’ll wager ten pounds that you can’t sit there for five minutes without speaking while I determine if Mrs. Chernov needs a champion.”
Tibold pressed his fingers to his lips and sat back, arms folded. The wager was accepted.
“So what do you know about this reprobate, Griff, and where can I find him?”
“No more than what I just said,” Griffin answered. “I ran into him last year when I was looking for that idiot servant of my mother’s. The one she hired from the poorhouse who showed her thanks by stealing Mother’s cameo and then trying to sell it. I convinced Nesbitt to return it to the rightful owner without an exchange of funds.”
“Where did you meet Nesbitt?”
“Some coffeehouse on neutral ground, though I expect he had as many men lurking about as I did.”
“Can you take me there? Tonight?”
“Good God, no. I’m hardly at my best at the moment. Maybe tomorrow when my head is clear. The thing is, Chase, it was a year ago.”
“You’re getting to be an old man, Griffin,” Tibold said.
“You’ve lost the bet,” Bellwood shot back.
Tibold swore.
“It’s wisdom, you nodcock,” Griffin went on as Tibold slid a chunk of his winnings toward Chase. “Only a complete fool would go traipsing about at this hour in a neighborhood he does not know looking for a thug who likes violence.”
“Tomorrow’s good enough.” Chase poured his winnings into a leather bag and stuffed it in his pocket. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure, but a lovely lady awaits me and I dare not offend her.”
“You haven’t been here an hour!” Tibold groused.
“Yes, and why would I stay longer when there is a beauty warming the bed and waiting for my attention?”
With a hand to his head in salute, Chase left the group before Tibold could start complaining again.
He didn’t have to wait long for Griffin to join him. Even his well-sprung carriage rocked as Griff hefted himself into the seat. Neither spoke until they were well on their way.
“Your secret word codes fascinate me, my lord. I don’t see why you cannot just say, ‘Griff, come with me.