“No. Of course not.” Chase stopped the globe, one long finger on the Sahara. “And I care not a bit about whether you marry the girl or not. But I want you to be careful about the way you choose to punish Knight. He will not take kindly to half measures.”

Cross met his partner’s gaze. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you have one chance to do this. You establish our might wholly, or not at all.”

“I have plans for wholly.”

“There is a reason why his largest players do not have memberships to the Angel. They are not men we would ordinarily welcome at our tables.”

“Maybe not. But respect tempts them. Power. The chance to rub elbows with those who have it, those who are titled. The chance to play the Angel.”

Chase nodded, reaching for a box of cigars on a nearby table. “Where were you tonight?”

“I do not require a keeper.”

“Of course you do. You think I don’t already know where you were?” The words came from behind a cloud of smoke.

Irritation flared. “You did not have me followed.”

Chase did not respond to the anger. “I don’t trust Knight around you. The two of you have always had a . . . troublesome . . . rapport.”

Cross stood, towering over the desk and his partner. “You did not have me followed.”

Chase rolled the cigar between thumb and finger. “I do wish you had scotch in here.”

“Get out.” Cross had had enough.

Chase did not move. “I didn’t have you followed. But I see now that it would have been edifying had I done.”

Cross swore, brutal and barbaric.

“You have had a bad night, haven’t you? Where did you go?”

“I saw my sister.”

Chase’s golden brows rose. “You went to Needham’s ball?”

I also saw Philippa Marbury. Well, he certainly wasn’t going to tell Chase that. Instead, he said nothing.

“I take it the meeting did not go well,” Chase said.

“She wants nothing to do with me. Even when I told her I would take care of Knight, she had little to say. She didn’t believe me.”

Chase was quiet for a long moment, considering the situation. “Sisters are difficult. They do not always respond well to the dictates of older brothers.”

“You would know that better than anyone.”

“Would you like me to speak with her?”

“You think far too highly of yourself.”

Chase smiled. “Ladies tend to welcome me with open arms. Even ladies like your sister.”

Cross’s gaze narrowed. “I don’t want you near her. It’s bad enough she’s to deal with Digger . . . and with me.”

“You wound me.” Chase savored the cigar. “Will she stay away from him?”

He considered the question, and his sister’s fury earlier in the evening. Lavinia had been seventeen when Baine died, when Cross left. She’d been forced into a marriage with Dunblade because he’d been willing to take her on—despite her imperfections.

Imperfections Cross had caused.

Imperfections that should have been overlooked—would have been if she’d been able to escape their mother’s sorrow and their father’s wrath. If she hadn’t been forced to survive on her own, with no one to help her.

Without a brother to keep her safe.

No wonder she did not believe him when he told her he would repair the damage Knight and her husband had done. Anger and frustration and not a small amount of self-loathing flared. “I don’t know what she’ll do. But I know Knight won’t do anything to jeopardize his daughter’s marriage.”

“We should have ruined him years ago.” When Cross did not reply, Chase added, “You’ve always had too soft a spot for him.”

Cross lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “Without him . . .”

White teeth flashed. “You wouldn’t have us.”

Cross laughed at that. “When put that way, perhaps I shouldn’t hesitate in ruining him.”

Chase savored a long puff on the cigar, thinking before saying, “You have to keep up the ruse until you’re ready to take him out. To protect Lavinia.” Cross nodded. “Temple said you’re planning to use the ladies? You realize you’ll need me to get the ladies.”

Cross raised a brow. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“Are you sure? They like me a great deal.”

“I am sure.”

Chase nodded once. “I wonder what the daughter is like.”

“She’s Knight’s progeny, so I’m guessing either a raving bitch or a poor soul.”

“She’s also a woman, so those are the two most likely options, of course.” A pause. “Perhaps you should marry her. It did wonders for Bourne.”

“I am not Bourne.”

“No. You’re not.” Chase sat up, spinning the globe once more and looking around the room. “It is a wonder you can find anything in here. I’ve half a mind to have the girls come in and clean up.”

“Try it.”

“Not worth your wrath.” Chase tamped out the cigar and stood, coming nearer and tapping one finger on the enormous betting book. “It’s late, and I am for home, but before I go, I thought perhaps you’d like to make a wager.”

“I don’t wager in the book. You know that.”

One of Chase’s golden brows rose. “Are you certain you don’t want to make an exception for this one? You’ve excellent odds.”