Warrick cast his friend a worried look. “How are you feeling?”
“Other than discomfort, pain, and a newfound level of annoyance, I’m doing well.”
“That’s a relief.” A small mercy that his injury from the duel hadn’t been more serious. But it did mean that escaping would be up to him. He focused his mind on one singular goal: breaking fee. Beads of sweat formed on Warrick’s brow, and he strained against the damn rope. Every creak of the chair, every tug on the bond, urged him to strain a bit more.
“Christ, man, you’re going to pop a vein if you keep doing that.”
Warrick ignored him.
“We must look on the bright side, old chap. We shall be released soon.”
“If we are, that would mean your sister has joined their ranks.” And met their demands.
“I shall rake her over the coals after we leave this place,” Saville said simply, then muttered, “they better not set up a meeting in a damn brothel.”
“Unlikely. It will probably be the abandoned warehouse in Whitechapel.”
“Whitechapel?”
“That’s where Selena met Lady Ridgeland last time.”
“I beg your pardon?” Saville’s demanded. His voice turned to steel. “When the devil was this?”
“The day after you caught her at my house.”
“Thatday?” Saville let out a rather foul curse. “I locked her in her chamber, for saints’ sake.”
“Did you honestly believe that would work?” Warrick bit out as he strained a bit harder. “Yoursister?”
“I had some hopes,” Saville muttered. “Futile hopes.”
“At least you are aware.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised, given all the secrets that you’ve been keeping from me.”
“This is your sister’s secret, not mine.”
“Well since you are sharing them, what other secrets have you been keeping for my sister? Since when has she been itching to join this club?”
Warrick relaxed his muscles, letting out a deep breath. He flexed his fingers. “I’m not sure.”
“But you still found out about this little plan of hers.”
Warrick sighed. Of all his friends, he’d have to be stuck with Saville. The head of nagging in their group. Where was the silent ghost from his foyer the other day? It seemed he had found rest and crossed over. “She told me the day of the Turkish trousers parade.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me Selena was searching for a damn dangerous club the moment after you found out?”
“Have you forgotten?” Warrick challenged back. “I am the one you assigned to protect her.” He wanted to say more, vent his frustration, but he refrained. No good would come from tossing blame back and forth.
“Are you saying I should never have trusted you with my family?”
“I’m saying you should have protected your family yourself.” Warrick glanced at Saville. “But look on the bright side,old chap—it’s not too late to mend your wrongs.”
“I get it,” Saville ground out. “I am being punished alongside you.” A short silence ensued before he sighed, before begrudgingly admitting, “You are right. I shouldn’t have lobbed my responsibility onto you.”
“Apology accepted.” So long as they could go back to the way things were before the rift, Warrick didn’t even need an apology from Saville. Any resentment he might have felt had long since disappeared. Only gratefulness remained.
“It shouldn’t be this silent, should it?” Saville suddenly commented.
