Florence nearly rolled her eyes. “I know. It was a stupid mistake.”
“The only one you made, actually.” He flipped open the latch on the carriage door. “At least during the game.”
“Are you going to tell me how idiotic it was to come down here?”
“No. Mr. Madden plans on doing that himself tomorrow. He said to tell you be at the club by nine o’clock.”
She paused on the step. The words had a portentous undertone. “Am I in trouble?”
“I’ve stopped trying to read his mind, miss. But I’ve never seen him quite so worked up as when the messenger arrived to tell us of your predicament tonight. He was mighty unhappy.”
“Because I was accused of stealing?”
“I couldn’t say exactly why. If I had to guess, though, I’d say it had more to do with putting yourself in danger. This isn’t a safe place for ladies.”
“I can take care of myself,” she grumbled as she adjusted her skirts and sat.
Jack was shaking his head as he sat across from the two sisters. “You’re Madden’s now—and he takes care of his own.”
She was early.
This pleased Clay, probably more than it should. He watched Florence from the shadows, observing her as she stood on the balcony overlooking the casino floor. She was gorgeous, in a midnight-navy silk evening gown that was probably sewn by the city’s most expensive dressmaker. Her hair was perfectly styled on her head while diamonds hung from her ears, both designed to show off her elegant throat. He longed to place his lips along that milky skin, to test its softness with his mouth and tongue.
He was still angry over her foolishness last night. To gamble elsewhere was a slap to his face, let alone choosing one of Mulligan’s spots to do it in. Had she any idea of the danger, how terribly wrong it all could’ve gone without Jack to intercede on Clay’s behalf?
He’d nearly worn a hole in the floor, pacing, until he’d learned of her safety. The relief he felt at the news told him all he needed to know about the way she had gotten under his skin.
Clayton Madden, gone soft for a fancy uptown debutante.
He was beginning to think it was true.
No, he couldn’t let it be true. Duncan Greene’s daughter was off-limits for so many reasons.
Making no sound, he approached and halted directly behind her. He saw her breathing hitch, knew she was aware of his presence.
“I had an inkling you were here somewhere, observing.” She threw him a quick glance over her shoulder. “Hello, Clay.”
He said nothing. His thoughts were an amalgam of anger, relief and lust, none of which he was ready to voice quite yet.
She sighed and spun around. “Let’s have it, then. No doubt you are brimming with recriminations about last night.”
He thrust his hands in his pockets and studied the perfect skin, the delicate features of her face, questions buzzing in his mind. Why would she risk her reputation—not to mention her person—at one of Mulligan’s dives? Had she truly been repulsed by Clay’s interaction with Bill? Was that why she’d gone gambling at a seedy casino last night? What would she have done if Jack hadn’t intervened with Donnelly? What would she do if Clay kissed her?
It was that last question that had him clamping his lips tighter.
“Fine.” She threw up her hands. “You’re clearly angry with me. It was stupid, of course. I wanted to win some money and test out the advice you’d given me, so I went back to Donnelly’s. I didn’t go alone, however, and took my sister with me. I never should’ve stayed so long at that table. I wasn’t paying attention to the amount I’d won and soon it attracted the wrong kind of notice.” She dragged in a long breath and kept right on going. “I did not bring up your name. My sister did that, despite my efforts to get her to shut up. I never wanted you or Jack involved. But thank you for sending him to help us.”
He let her words sink in and contemplated them, remaining silent. The two of them obviously had differing views on what the issues were, because the tightness behind his sternum didn’t dissipate one bit after her diatribe.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked when the silence stretched.
He cleared his throat. “I hear you didn’t split a pair of nines.”
Her jaw fell open before she quickly recovered, a chuckle escaping her lips. “I thought you were furious with me.”
“Oh, I am furious. I nearly put my fist through a wall when Donnelly’s man showed up here, saying a woman claiming me as a mentor had been caught cheating there.”
The muscles in her neck worked as she swallowed. “That reaction seems a bit extreme, considering.”
“Considering what?”
“Considering I’m only paying you to teach me about running a casino. We hardly know each other.”
Irritation crawled along his skin, though she wasn’t altogether wrong. Yet, it seemed there was more he needed to teach her. “Florence, being under my tutelage means that you are under my protection. We are linked, whether you like it or not.” She started to speak, so he held up a hand. “Furthermore, your decision on where to play last evening was an unfortunate one. Do you know who owns Donnelly’s saloon?”
“A man named Mulligan, I think.”
She showed no reaction so his suspicion was confirmed. “You obviously haven’t heard of Mulligan. What I don’t run in this city, Mulligan does. We are . . . associates of a sort.”
“Rivals?”
“Not quite. I’ve risen above the type of places Mulligan runs. We’re not enemies—but we’re not friends, either. More important, Mulligan allows the men running his properties a fair amount of latitude to do as they see fit with patrons. Even if you hadn’t been accused of cheating, you were in danger just by being there.”
She waved her hand. “I’ve been all over the city and never encountered any problems. I’m perfectly safe.”
“Don’t be naive, Florence,” he snapped. “You’re far from safe in casinos, dance halls, saloons and other two-bit dives. Even if rape or personal injury doesn’t scare you, the possibility of being kidnapped for ransom certainly should. Your last name puts you at risk. God knows your father has made any number of enemies over the years.”
“Including you.”
“Yes, including me, although I don’t need to use you to gain retribution against him. Not all men would feel the same, however.”
“No one would dare.”
“Yes, they certainly would. Mulligan wouldn’t think twice about using you as a pawn to gain power in this city.”
She worried her lip and he hoped his words were getting through to her. “You speak of him as if he’s some sort of bogeyman.”
“He’s no one to trifle with. Mulligan rose through the ranks in the Five Points gang. When he got older, he realized how much more money everyone could make by consolidating all the gangs under one leadership—his. He oversees a vast criminal empire from his New Belfast Athletic Club. He’s likely the only person in the city who knows as much about gaming as I do.”
“Hmm.” She stared out at the patrons below as the games carried on. He said nothing, let his information sink in. Instead, he watched the money exchanging hands as patrons lost at the tables. The sight warmed Clay’s heart.