Marcus allowed his friend’s remarks to fall into silence, looking out still at the London streets and seeing very little which he recognized. It was late and, therefore, very dark, and there were only a few lamps lit. However, all the same, he still realized very quickly that they were no longer anywhere near the area of London which he knew well. In fact, they were now driving through a part of London that he would usually wish to avoid.
“Trevelyan,” he murmured, as his friend grunted in reply. “I believe that we are now within the East End of London.”
There came a few moments of silence before Lord Trevelyan shuffled across in his seat, coming to look out of the window opposite the one which Marcus stared out of.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.” Marcus’ stomach tensed, his sense of foreboding rising. “Perhaps I can now understand why Lord Penforth did not take his carriage.”
Lord Trevelyan cleared his throat.
“At this point, my own curiosity is piqued – although yes, mayhap we ought to have hailed a hackney also.” He took in a deep breath, then looked towards Marcus. The dim light from a lantern flickered briefly across his face for just a moment, revealing a heavy frown. “Whatever is Lord Penforth doing here?”
Marcus shook his head, grimacing.
“I must find out, Trevelyan. I must discover what he is here for, even if he still manages to convince Lady Almeria that he sent those bouquets simply because he was so desperate for her affection. I will need something else by which to convince her to stay away from him.”
“I understand.”
There was no question in Lord Trevelyan’s voice. He sounded very serious indeed, not even a flicker of mirth in his usually cheerful voice. The silence continued and both men sat quietly, waiting for the hackney they were following to come to a stop. The carriage wheels rattled across the cobbled streets until, finally, they halted.
“We must go. Lord Penforth has stepped out.” In a moment, Marcus was out of the carriage, leaving Lord Trevelyan to follow him. He stepped onto the dark street, barely able to see more than a few feet in front of him. They were surrounded by buildings with only a few dim lights emanating from the windows. There was certainly something untoward here, something Marcus did not like. Recoiling towards the carriage, he looked towards his friend, who immediately scowled.
“The East End of London holds many shadows.” Lord Trevelyan folded his arms heavily across his chest, as though somehow that would protect him from the encroaching blackness which seemed to be more than just the usual evening’s darkness. “Did you see where Lord Penforth went?”
Marcus was not immediately able to answer, his eyes still becoming used to the darkness as he cast an eye over the street. Hearing the sound of a door slamming, he caught the barest flicker of movement, then pointed one finger to a building to their left.
“There. Perhaps it is a place where other gentlemen of note meet, far away from the confines of society.”
“Then let us go, but be cautious.”
Nodding, Marcus began to hurry in the direction of the door, putting one hand on the handle. A small lantern flickered just outside the building, revealing a red door. Squaring his shoulders, Marcus pushed his way carefully inside, hearing the noise of raucous laughter and conversation reaching out toward him. The moment he made his way into the room, however, the sound swiftly began to die away as every single person turned to look at both himself and Lord Trevelyan. Realizing immediately that they had become the object of everyone’s attention, he cleared his throat. It seemed as though every other man present sitting within the establishment was not a gentleman, as he had suspected might be the case.
Whatever this establishment was, Marcus was utterly certain that they had just stepped into significant danger.
Chapter Eleven
“You looking for Mr. Stepson?”
A man who had been sitting behind a long, wooden counter at the side of the room came slowly to his feet.
“Stepson?” Marcus repeated, before quickly nodding and smiling in an attempt to appear confident, even though he had very little understanding of the situation he had stepped into. “Yes. I need to speak with him.”
“Well, you can’t.” The man grinned, coming from behind the counter and wandering closer to Marcus as the rest of the men in the room kept their gazes trained on him. “He’s already got some men in there. You should have come another night. There won’t be any more gambling deals done tonight.”
Marcus swallowed and glanced at Lord Trevelyan, seeing his friend’s eyebrow lift. Lord Penforth was here to gamble? He recalled Lord Trevelyan’s concerns over Lady Almeria’s wealth and the fact she was the daughter of a Marquess. Was that why Lord Penforth sought her?
Looking the man straight in the eye, he tilted his head.
“You speak of Lord Penforth?”
Lord. Trevelyan, who had come to stand beside him, boasted a confident air.
“We seek Lord Penforth. We are friends of his, you see. We followed him in case there should be any trouble.”
The man’s eyebrows lifted and he grinned broadly as a few murmurs ran around the room.
“Trouble?” he repeated, as a few of the men now laughed boldly alongside the broad-shouldered man, making Marcus’ skin prickle. “Now why would you think there might be any trouble?”
