Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
A bark of laughter escaped the cook. “Honey, no one there will listen to you. It’s not safe for your kind. They will see you as someone to take to a back room and have their way with.”
“I have to try.” She rose and settled the sleeping tot back in the rickety crib near the heat. After brushing a kiss over her head, she made sure she was tucked in. “Where is this place?”
The cook shook her head and gave her directions. Bundling back up, Rosamunde exited the orphanage and headed for Mac’s, determined to get some answers.
* * * *
Bryn shifted in his seat before the roaring fire, stretching out his legs and putting his left ankle over his right. The tumbler of amber liquid in his left hand dangled from his fingertips as he watched the gathered crowd.
Falcon was at another table, taking some entitled prick’s money from him without the slightest hint of remorse.
Bryn sighed. Dr. John Bridges had been correct with his assessment. A fool and his money are soon parted.
Neither he nor Falcon had any qualms about taking money from others. Bryn smirked as he returned his gaze to the flames. Perhaps he was more untamed savage than respectable member of the ton after all. Not that it would shock anyone in his family. Following the usual dictates of their society had gone by the wayside with his father. Lucien had been content bucking tradition and what had been expected of him to marry for love and not one who had been readily accepted.
Even now, years later, people still spoke of how the marquess had gotten on his knees before his wife at a ball and bared his heart and soul to her.
A flurry of movement to the right snagged his attention. One of Jimmy Mac’s top enforcers, a large man named Brent, moved through the crowd, his scarred face set in a line of annoyance. Interesting.
I didn’t know anyone could get under his skin.
And Bryn had seen men purposefully try to get under the man’s skin. Not the wisest of decisions when dealing with a top enforcer for Seamus “Jimmy Mac” MacGuire. But men, especially intoxicated or drug-impaired ones, didn’t always make the best decisions. And forcing, or attempting to force, an altercation with that man was definitely a mistake.
The man stopped by Jimmy Mac’s chair, where the boss played with the men at his table. As the owner, he didn’t need to do a damn thing, but the man did love to gamble. The smoke hanging from thin lips wobbled a bit as his reddish-brown eyebrows shot up. Green eyes snapped over to Bryn as an eerie smirk turned up his mouth.
Shit.
The man placed down his cards and pushed back from the table. The majority of the women watched him move across the room. Bryn knew all of them from his time here. Hell, he’d bedded some of them. Handsome, strong and completely exuding the vibe of danger, Jimmy Mac moved like a predator. Made sense, as he was one. The man pretty much ran the seedy underground side of London.
Scuffed black boots were near his own when the man paused. “You need to get your woman.” The Irish lilt wouldn’t ever completely leave him and it was a bit odd to hear it mixed with the cant he’d picked up from years of being in London.
Protectiveness rushed Bryn and he rose in one smooth motion. “You telling me my sister is here, Seamus?” A low growl rolled from his chest. The thought of Keely here kicked him into a dangerous territory.
The man narrowed his eyes as he took a final drag of the smoke and flicked it into the fire without taking his focus from Bryn. They had known each other for years now and there wasn’t much that went on in this city that Jimmy Mac didn’t have his finger on the pulse of. The man had knowledge of things one wouldn’t expect a guy who spent his time in the slums of the city would know. Still, for all his shady dealings, the man actually had a heart of gold for things that were important to him.
Seamus “Jimmy Mac” MacGuire wasn’t a small man, stocky and strong as a goddamn bull, but if it came to his sister, Bryn would lay waste to the entire building and everyone who got in his way without pausing for a second.
“Sister?” A head shake. “Nawh. Not this one. Pretty little plump miss. Hangs out with your sister at the orphanage up aways.”
The orphanage that Jimmy Mac donated money to so it could keep its doors open and take the unwanted. Not that he would ever let it be known he had done anything of the sort. Didn’t look good for the scary-as-hell image he preferred to maintain.