Her Notorious Viscount by Jenna Petersen

“training,” she would have to be very careful of him. Careful of his body…and careful of his dark and dangerous soul, as well.

    The underground was not one specific place, though those of the ton often spoke of it as if it was. Of course most of them had never left the safety of Bond Street to investigate their ideas on the place they decried. Those who did were generally like Jane’s brother, lost in their own pains and obsessions. The underground was an end for them.
    But to Nicholas, it had been a beginning. And now, as he walked with Rage down Jermyn Cross at a broad, wide clip, it was like coming home. The dirty street was dangerous, yes, but it had a frantic energy about it, as well. This was a place where a fortune could be made or lost; where the next person one met could become a lifelong friend or turn out to be a murderer; a place where spirits and women ran free in equal measure, and neither were weak or watered down.
    Clubs lined each side of the narrow, dirty expanse, but they were not the fancy ones like White’s or Boodle’s that catered to men of his class. There were no cigar rooms in these places, no liveried footmen to bring fresh port. Nicholas almost chuckled when he thought of what would happen if such a person entered these pits.
    No, one had to be sharp here. And a man like Nicholas, who had enough of a reputation that the lightskirts hawking their wares in front of an open pub door called out to him by name and offered him free tumbles as they walked by, had to be especially alert. There were dozens of men who would love the prestige of taking down the most celebrated underground fighter. And most of them would not fight fair.
    Which meant it was the perfect place to go to forget his troubling encounter with Jane Fenton earlier in the night. Kissing her had been a huge mistake. A great pleasure, but a mistake nonetheless.
    But then Nicholas had never been one to learn from his mistakes, and he wanted to repeat this one again and again.
    “Hey, stay alert.” Rage’s whisper was harsh at his side.
    Nicholas shook off his thoughts and looked around. A group of four men had just stepped from one of the gambling hells. Although they were all staggering, they also had guns strapped to their hips, and they were watching Rage and Nicholas closely as they passed by.
    “What’s wrong with you?” Rage snapped once the men had weaved their way into another hell instead of pursuing them. “You didn’t even glance their way until I mentioned it. You know you can’t daydream here, friend. Wait until we get to Ruby’s where you’ve got folks watching your back.”
    “Sorry,” he mumbled. “It was a slip.”
    “One I’ve never seen you make,” his friend pressed. “So do you want to tell me why? And why are we here? I thought you were in for the night once Miss Fenton left.”
    Nicholas sighed. There was no use lying to Rage. His friend had the uncanny ability to see right through him every time. “The answer to both your questions is Miss Fenton.”
    “Let’s go inside and you can tell me all about it.” Rage motioned to the gaming hell where he had stopped.
    Nicholas smiled as he looked up at the battered wooden sign swinging in the early summer’s night breeze. Ruby’s.
    They entered the hall and were immediately greeted by the smell of nervous sweat, cheap cigar smoke, and spilled whiskey. For a long time those scents had been repugnant to Nicholas, but over the years they had come to symbolize a kind of comfort. Here, he belonged.
    Except now he didn’t.
    Rage wove his way through the teeming crowd of desperate men and sly women until they reached a bar in the back. As people cast glances at them, a reverent hush moved through the bar. Nicholas shrugged it off. He had become accustomed to such attention after years of fighting. Both he and Rage were popular pugilists, and the men in this bar had won and lost small fortunes by betting on their battles.
    Many of the women had been