Jeremiah Jones was treacherous, it was the only way he could protect his family and liberate himself from the cloud of impending doom which seemed to be looming over his head. They had to understand that there was no way any of them would be safe until he and Jeremiah Jones had their reckoning.
Suddenly, the drawing room door opened, jolting Gavin from his thoughts. He could not have been more shocked if the devil himself had crossed the threshold.
And indeed, mayhap he had.
Jasper Sutton strode into the room, wearing his perpetual scowl. Gen was at his heels, her husband Sundenbury at her side. Neither of them appeared impressed by their guest. Gavin could not blame them—despite Sutton’s keeping him a secret to prolong the truce with his family, being lied to and imprisoned for weeks had not left him inclined to like the villain.
“Sutton,” Gavin greeted, unable to keep from needling him. “If they’ve sent you here to help me take a piss while I’m tied to the chair, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”
He was being crude in front of his sister and his brother-in-law, but damn it, Gavin was in desperate circumstances at the moment. As evidenced by his current position.
“The only thing I’ll be helping you with is getting into a grave if something happens to my sister because of your sorry arse,” Sutton growled.
His gut clenched, fear spiking through him. “Caro?”
“Aye.” Sutton sneered. “Though you ain’t fit to speak her name.”
“Mr. Sutton,” Sundenbury said, sounding very much like the aristocrat he was, “I’ll thank you to keep your tone civil before my wife and brother-in-law.”
“The brother-in-law you’ve lashed to the chair?” Sutton eyed the marquess, his brows raised. “Don’t act the fucking angels with me, the two of you.”
“I may be a marchioness, but that does not mean I can’t plant you a facer,” Gen cautioned.
Gavin had no doubt she would do it, too. He had taught her how to punch.
But none of this squabbling was getting to the heart of the matter, and Gavin’s own heart felt as if it were being squeezed by a merciless, invisible fist. “Stubble it, the lot of you. Sutton, what is happening with Caro? Is she in danger?”
Sutton’s expression was rigid, but there was a hint of fear hiding beneath his composure, and that was what made Gavin’s inner worry heighten to a frenzy. “Of course she’s in danger, you coxcomb. She’s been taken by Jeremiah Jones.”
His gut curdled. “What do you mean she’s been taken?”
“She went looking for the bastard last night,” Sutton elaborated. “Apparently, she was trying to pay him not to face you in the match. She took one of my guards with her but entered the Beggar’s Purse alone, and that bastard seized her and left through the rear. By the time my man went checking on her, the pair were long gone. I received a note from Jones this morning, telling me I need to give him one hundred guineas or Mr. Gavin Winter himself if I want to get Caro back. Since you’re the reason she’s been spirited away by that—”
“Yes,” Gavin interrupted, not wanting to waste another moment on useless speech. “I’ll go with you. Gen, untie me.”
“Gav,” she said softly, her face contorted with worry, “you can’t face Jones alone.”
“He won’t be alone. I’ll be with him,” Sutton said, nodding at him in what Gavin suspected was the closest show of approval the man would offer.
“There is no time to waste,” Gavin urged. “Caro could be in terrible danger, and she needs us.”
And right then and there, it hit him with stunning, unalterable clarity: he needed her, too. God, how he needed her. In the face of losing her, all his anger and outrage fell away. He needed to be where she was, to face Jeremiah Jones, to end this battle, and to make Caro his, just as she had been meant to be all along.
Gen sighed. “Are you certain this is what you must do, Gav?”
He met his sister’s gaze, unflinching. “I love her, Gen. I’d do anything to protect her.”
“Fine way you have of showing it,” Sutton snarled.
And Gavin could not blame him. When Caro had come to him the day before, if he had not been so bloody set upon clinging to his anger, if he had just forgiven her, she would not have gone looking for Jones. She had done so in an effort to protect him. Because she loved him.
And now, he was going to fight