The Bachelor Bargain (Secrets, Scandals, and Spies) - Michaels, Maddison (an ebook reader TXT) 📗

Advancing toward him, Seb grabbed hold of the lapels of his jacket. “You dared to attack me?” No one who lived in the Rookeries should have been foolish enough to do so, at least not without a large monetary incentive.

The man glanced up at Seb, and his face blanched of color. “Oh fuck…I didn’t know it was you, Mr. Colver, I bloody well didn’t. You’ve got ta forgive me, sir. I’m just trying ta earn a living.” There was enough stark terror in the man’s eyes for Seb to believe him somewhat. Though it was no excuse.

“Explain yourself.” Seb’s voice was cold and hard, for an act of trying to stab him could not go unpunished. Such a thing required a swift message be sent to others who may try. Retribution was the only way to ensure deterrence; a lesson he’d learned early and had made sure to follow.

And now everyone in the Rookeries knew that only a dead man crossed Sebastian Colver.

“Well, I, um…I, uh, know this here is your area and I shouldn’t’a tried to do anything here without you or ya men’s okay,” the man spluttered. “But, well, someone said a man would be walking along here shortly and I’d get a pound for stabbing him. I got four young mouths to feed, sir. ’Tis the only reason I said I’d do it.” There was desperation clinging to the man like a pathetic second skin. “If I’d known it was ya, I never woulda taken the job. Please forgive me, sir, please…”

The man knew he was pleading for his life. Whatever that sort of life was, with the man’s filthy brown pants and boots covered in grime, his shirt a tattered mess of holes and gaping stitching along the seams. Certainly not the sort of clothing to keep a man warm in this frigid weather. A pound would be a lofty enticement for someone who was clearly desperate. And desperate men often made stupid decisions. “Who hired you?”

“I don’t know his name, I swear!” the man replied earnestly. “He approached me in the Old Lion tavern and stayed in the shadows mostly. I didn’t recognize ’im, but I didn’t really see his face. He kept that hidden, he did.”

“And what exactly did he say?”

“He told me that a tall man dressed all in black ’d be walking along here at this exact time, and that I was to stab him. Promise, that’s all he said.”

“So, you were prepared to stab a man for a pound?”

The man looked sheepish. “I have mouths to feed, and a pound would have fed ’em for months.”

Seb let go of the man’s shirt and pushed him away, knowing all too well the truth of his statement. Once, Seb, too, would have done practically anything for such a sum. “Get out of my Rookeries before I change my mind. And don’t return here, or I will get my men to dump you in the Thames with rocks tied to you. Do you understand me?”

The man sighed in relief and took a step toward Seb, bobbing his head up and down. “Perfectly. And thank you, sir!”

But then Seb saw a glint of silver from the corner of his eye. He swore loudly and swiveled to the side as the man lunged at him with another dagger he must have had tucked up the sleeve of his unbroken arm. The fool.

Seb grabbed the man’s arm and twisted the knife away from him and back toward his attacker. The man’s forward momentum propelled him straight into the ten-inch blade, and Seb felt the dagger rip through the man’s flesh until it lodged all the way into the fool’s stomach with only the hilt visible.

Wrenching the dagger free, Seb stepped away from the man, watching as blood gushed from the man’s belly to spill down his front and onto the cobblestones beneath. The man staggered backward, clutching at his middle before collapsing onto his back. He blinked up at Seb, an expression akin to surprise flickering in his gaze as a pool of crimson soaked into the ground beneath his body. Then he took a shuddering breath and went completely still as death took him.

Seb had been responsible for too many deaths before now to even blink an eyelid at this one, though he was still able to recognize the futility of it. Especially as he’d done something he rarely did and had given the man a chance. Perhaps Lady Olivia’s visit had had more of an influence on him then he’d credited it with, her optimism seemingly contagious. Well, he wouldn’t let that happen again.

One thing Seb did well was to never repeat his own mistakes.

Throwing the knife on the ground next to the man, Seb wiped his blood-splattered hand on his own trouser leg, the red fading into the black material easily. He quickly pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at the dials. Damn. He was late. Hopefully, the lady hadn’t gotten into any strife. That’s even if she got out of her carriage, which was unlikely once she saw the sort of area she was in. Though Sebastian rather doubted she’d have any sense, the lady seemed too foolhardy by half to worry about herself greatly. She’d visited him, hadn’t she?

Without a backward glance at the man’s body, Seb continued along the street to his destination. He’d send his men to clean up the mess after he’d ensured Lady Olivia was safe.

And if anyone had dared hurt her, then they’d incur the wrath of the Bastard of Baker Street, and in doing so would ensure their own place in Hell.

Chapter Eight

Livie took in a deep breath, trying valiantly to calm her nerves.

It wasn’t working. Her heart was racing a million miles an hour and her hands were shaking slightly.

She shook her head in disgust. Goodness gracious, get ahold of yourself, Livie!

Of course, this probably was the most reckless thing she had ever done in her life.