Free My Ruthless Prince by Gaelen Foley Page A

again at the mountains and the moon.
    He stared at the dark landscape for a long moment, recalling her silly attempt to convince him earlier today that life was worth living because of some picturesque scenery, trees and whatnot, as if he gave a damn.
    He shook his head to himself wryly. Beautiful little fool.
    But . . . perhaps the Alpine view wasn't half-bad, he conceded with a faint, begrudging smile.
    There was something far more beautiful to gaze at inside the room, in his opinion. But gazing would only lead to touching and get him in trouble.
    Drake shut his eyes with the trace of a smile still on his lips. Feeling more like himself than he had in two years, he did his best to go to sleep.
    He had no intention of admitting it, but damned if a part of him wasn't glad she was there.

Chapter 5
    London
    A thick fog blanketed London that night as the ornate black carriage rolled up to Dante House.
    The Tudor mansion on the Thames looked even more sinister with the vaporous night air swirling around its turrets. Max St. Albans, the Marquess of Rotherstone, alighted at once from his town coach, not waiting for his footman, and marched through the forbidding wrought-iron gates to the front door of the Inferno Club.
    The brass knocker in the shape of a medieval scholar made after a portrait of the poet Dante seemed to smirk at him as he rapped forcefully.
    The butler, Gray, admitted him in short order. Max shooed away the giant guard dogs, who gave him a clamorous welcome.
    "Virgil?" he clipped out.
    "Downstairs, my lord. The others have also arrived."
    "Good." Max gave Gray his opera coat, for he had been sitting in the theatre box with his lady when the messenger had brought him this most consequential communique.
    At last, they had word of Drake.
    He had sent word around at once, calling the others together immediately to discuss what to do, and he now headed down to the Pit to join them.
    He paid no mind to the florid excess of the decor with its crimson walls and heavily carved wood; Dante House had been deliberately fashioned to look like some lavish bordello or gaming house in keeping with the Inferno Club's scandalous reputation.
    This facade, of course, helped to keep the decent world away. The Prometheans in particular would not have ventured near it, taking such care as they did to appear as upstanding pillars of Society.
    Stepping into the dusty music room, Max crossed to the harpsichord. He glanced over his shoulder out of habit, then played the few notes that triggered the bookcase to turn away from the wall.
    Gears and mechanisms based on simple clockwork science creaked beneath the floorboards. The bookcase popped away from the wall, revealing the opening.
    He walked over silently and opened it like a door, stepping into the dark labyrinth hidden inside the walls. He pulled it shut behind him and made his way down to the Order's covert lair hewn into the limestone beneath Dante House, their headquarters, affectionately known to all their London agents as the Pit.
    He found his team and their handler, Virgil, already waiting for him when he arrived, the torchlight flickering on the clammy, cavelike walls.
    They sat at the rough wooden table where they had planned many a mission. Rohan Kilburn, the Duke of Warrington, was wiping a smudge off the gleaming blade of his knife, while Jordan Lennox, the Earl of Falconridge, was scanning the advertisements in the evening newspaper for any coded messages that someone might have been trying to send.
    Sebastian, Viscount Beauchamp, the Earl of Lockwood's heir, had also joined them. The younger agent was drumming his fingers restlessly on the table, annoying Virgil.
    The taciturn old Highlander had recruited all of them ages ago and had long served as the head of the Order in London. The men all looked over as Max jumped down lightly off the ladder.
    "There he is," Beauchamp murmured.
    "Max," Jordan greeted, while Rohan merely nodded.
    "Thanks for getting here so quickly,"