Raven (Gentlemen of the Order #2) - Adele Clee Page 0,36

the next production on the playbill? It’s The Rival Soldiers.”

He looked at her, a war raging in those inky pools. “I understand why they wish to follow such a terrifying tale with a farce, but I’m not in the mood for buffoonery.”

What was he in the mood for?

A passionate encounter?

If so, he gave no indication. Indeed, he released her hand and stood abruptly. “Come, we will deal with our problem during the interval.”

“Our problem?” Did he speak of the need to slake their lust?

“Fitzroy Adair.”

“Oh.”

“We shall storm into his box and demand to know what the hell he was doing at Blackborne.”

Chapter 10

Love and loss was the theme of the evening.

Finlay always told himself Sophia had benefited from his absence. She had married a lord, not the son of a military man. What else did a woman want but wealth and status? Love was an extravagant luxury enjoyed by the few. But in reality, she had lost her innocence, lost her dignity, lost all hope.

If that were not enough to plague a man’s mind, he’d sat through a play that drew stark similarities to his own life. He had loved deeply. In following his conscience, his love had been snatched by a monster. And yet, in some respects, he was the monster. He craved love but sought to destroy his only chance of happiness.

“If we wish to question Fitzroy, we should hurry.” Sophia brushed her skirts with the hand that had massaged his manhood in the dark. “He won’t remain in his box during the interval.”

How had she slipped through his defences? He had surrendered the second her fingers crept up his thigh. He wanted her more than he’d wanted anything, and she had offered a perfect solution. A sexual liaison. Just for one night.

Temptation danced like the devil inside.

“Finlay?” Sophia’s voice broke his reverie. “Do you wish to speak to Fitzroy, or not?”

Finlay mentally shook himself back to the present. “Speak to him? I’m likely to wring the fool’s neck.”

“I need to know what he was doing at Blackborne. I need to discover what he knows about Jessica.”

“Trust me. The only way I will make that imbecile talk is if I threaten him with violence.” He had dealt with the likes of Lord Adair before, men who stood behind a shield of arrogance. Men who would rather risk their lives than appear weak.

Finlay smiled to himself.

Beating Fitzroy Adair would banish some of his frustration.

“Remember, make no mention of Jessica,” he said. “Fitzroy might know you own the house but know nothing more.”

Sophia’s nod came with a sigh of apprehension. “I shan’t utter a word. He would use Jessica as a pawn to lure me into his trap.” Her hand fluttered to her chest like a panicked bird. “Tell me Jessica is safe with Mr Sloane and Mr D’Angelo. They seem the unreliable type.”

“I trust those men with my life.”

“Mr D’Angelo is reputed to be a lothario.”

“D’Angelo doesn’t plan on living long and takes pleasure where he finds it.” D’Angelo joined the Order hoping to find the fiends who murdered his parents. “He’s ready to die in the name of vengeance. But he will protect Jessica as if she were his own sister.”

The hum of conversation in the corridor confirmed people were leaving their boxes. Within seconds of Finlay opening the door, Lord Adair appeared.

“If you have something to say, you may do so here.” The pompous prig barged into the secluded seating area. “I’ll not be seen arguing in my father’s box.”

Mr Harrington and Mr Jameson lingered in the corridor like virgins at an orgy, all pink cheeks, shuffling feet and darting gazes.

Finlay threw them a devilish grin. “Don’t wander too far. You may need to summon a surgeon.” And with that, he slammed the door.

“What the devil is this about?” Adair said in the lofty tone Finlay despised.

“It’s about you being an interfering coxcomb.” Finlay stared down his nose. “Explain why you’re snooping into your stepmother’s affairs. Explain why you demand she is at your beck and call.”

The man’s lips twitched, drawing attention to his ridiculous side whiskers. “Must you use that term? I find it offensive. She’s the woman my father married, nothing more.”

Finlay resisted the urge to push the weasel over the balcony. Indeed, the lord must have sensed the danger as he shuffled sideways until his back was pressed to the wall.

“You resent her,” Finlay said, for it paid to have an opponent consumed by his emotions. “You hate the fact your father married someone