by Lauren Smith
“I was rather hoping she would settle down. She was so eager for Mr. St. Laurent before, but now she won’t even entertain him when he comes to call.”
“That’s true,” said Sean. “They returned here after one in the morning, looking quite tousled, both of them. Thankfully, his lordship and Lady Sheridan were both asleep. But when Mr. St. Laurent returned midday to pay a call, she refused him entirely.”
That surprised Gillian. She’d come home from James’s house and had been put straight to bed, where she’d rested until after lunch. She had missed the drama of Jonathan St. Laurent being turned away. And after such a daring rescue?
“I think if it was me pining after her, I would kidnap her and take her to Gretna Green. Leave nothing to chance. She needs to marry that man, but for some reason she’s now set her mind against him.”
Gillian sighed. “Sean, I fear you read too many Gothic novels if you believe that is the answer to my lady’s problems.” She was going to go grow old and gray far too soon if she continued to worry about her mistress like this. But perhaps Sean had a point. If left to her own devices, she could picture Audrey coming up with no end of protests and excuses to deny him.
“Let’s get you some tea.” Sean escorted her down the stairs, Audrey’s dainty boots tucked under one of his arms as he opened the door that led to the kitchens.
The sudden tap of the knocker on the front door made them both freeze.
“Wait here, and I’ll see who it is.” Sean set the boots down and headed for the door. Gillian saw the bright sunlight cut through the hall as Sean opened the door. A tall silhouetted figure stood there, his hat tucked under one arm.
“My name is James Fordyce. I’d like to pay a visit to Miss Sheridan. Is she at home?”
James! Gillian ducked halfway into the hall that went down to the kitchens and peered around the door in time to see James enter the foyer.
“I’ll see if Miss Sheridan is accepting visitors,” Sean said.
He hastily ascended the stairs. Gillian couldn’t help but study James from her hidden vantage point, remembering him as he’d been the night before. It was as though it had been some sort of wonderful dream. The hazy darkness, the sliding of limbs, the moans and sighs, the building pleasure that had blinded her for moments before she came down from it all, shaking and weak. Had they really made love? Or had it been a feverish dream she believed to be real only because she wished it to be so?
James glanced about the hall, not seeing her in her hiding place. The tan trousers he wore clung to his athletic legs, legs that had pressed against hers in bed. His broad shoulders filled out his maroon jacket. A gold waistcoat accented the white shirt beneath, a shirt much like the one she had pulled off him last night. A flush crept over her cheeks as she tried to dispel memories from the previous evening.
Heaven help me. It hadn’t been a dream, and she would never be able to pretend that it had been. It was burned into her heart.
Audrey came down the stairs a moment later and greeted James with an embrace. Gillian flinched. She knew her mistress was affectionate by nature, but she couldn’t ignore the flash of green across her eyes as she watched them touch. She knew there was nothing between them, of course, but she was the one who wanted to be hugging James like that.
“James! Do come into the drawing room. I’ll send for tea.”
Gillian flattened herself against the wall close to the back stairs that led up to the servants’ quarters as they passed, holding her breath as she listened to James’s voice slowly fade as he moved farther and farther away.
I had one glorious, wonderful night. It’s more than most women ever have. I should be thankful for what I have. A safe place to lay my head, an employer who protects me, and friends.
But after sharing a bed with the Earl of Pembroke, she knew that her life would never be the same.
5
James didn’t feel like sitting, but when Audrey motioned for him to sit while she poured tea, he did the gentlemanly thing and eased into the nearest chair. He took a moment to study the lady before him. She looked bright-eyed and well, with no hint of the dark horrors she had faced the previous evening. She, like Gillian, was like no other woman he’d ever met. He was used to encountering preening, silly creatures who focused only a man’s title and wealth. These two petite Amazons with their warrior spirits surprised him…and fascinated him.
“How are you after last night? I’m afraid that due to the chaos we could not avoid getting separated. I trust Mr. St. Laurent escorted you safely home?”
“Oh yes, we were fine.” She held out a cup of tea and he accepted it, taking a sip only after she sipped from her own cup. The orange pekoe was one he did not drink often, but he rather liked the subtle hints of spices upon his tongue. Audrey had excellent taste in tea.
“And Miss Beaumont? Did she return safely to you this morning?” He waited, studying her, hoping she would betray at least a hint of Gillian’s whereabouts or the nature of their acquaintance. “I missed seeing her depart earlier.”
Audrey’s lips curved in a little smile. “Yes, she did. Thank you for taking such good care of her, James. Gillian is quite dear to me, one of my closest friends.”
“Is she?” He sat forward, eager to learn more. Gillian was continually proving mysterious, raising more questions than providing answers.
“Yes, we’ve known each other for three years. Since we were sixteen. I trust her with all my secrets.” Audrey looked him closely in the eye. “All of them.”
He set his cup down on the lacquered table between them and glanced about to ensure they wouldn’t be overheard. “She knows of your…occupation?”
Audrey nodded. “And I hope you will keep that knowledge hidden as well, my lord.”
“No one shall hear it from me, but I fear your secret is no longer safe. After last night, it is quite clear that men like Gerald Langley will be out for revenge. You must take care. Both of you. Langley has seen Miss Beaumont’s face, and I fear some harm could come to her.” He raised his cup to his lips, planning his next words carefully. It was quite clear Audrey would protect her friend from any perceived threat, but he hoped she would see him as an ally. “Is there any way I might see her again?”
Audrey’s sharp gaze settled on him again. “That depends. What are your intentions, James? As Lady Society, I don’t only challenge the conventions of the ton with my exposé articles; I do other things as well.”
James nodded. “Yes, I hear you are a matchmaker. And I’m here, begging you to help me win Gillian—Miss Beaumont, that is—over.” He prayed that the edge of desperation didn’t show in his voice.
She set her cup down, the clink of the china loud in the otherwise silent room. She folded her hands together in her lap, her pale green gown rustling as she shifted closer to him. The intensity of her stare was like a bright beam of afternoon sunlight, and he blinked.
“I must ask you a question. Honesty matters, so it would be wise for you to give me only the truth.”
He leaned forward as well, sensing the need for secrecy in this moment.
“Of course.” It never occurred to him to hide his feelings or lie, not when it came to Miss Beaumont.
“Do you love her?”
“Love?” he echoed. The word filled him with a soft warmth in his chest. But he wasn’t a fool. If he said yes, Audrey would not believe him. She wanted honesty, and he would give it to her.
“I haven’t known her long enough to be certain of love, but I know that from the moment I met her something seemed to fit when I am with her. Like pieces of the puzzle sliding into place or the way the sea and the shore come together. I feel tied to her in a way that defies a more rational explanation. She is intelligent, compassionate, and brave. Everything I would want in a partner in my life.”
Audrey’s lips curved up ever so slightly. “And beautiful?”
“Of course. But beauty is not merely that of one’s face and form. It extends far deeper, into the mind and s
oul. That beauty grows with time rather than fades.”
Audrey settled back into her chair, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“After such a brief encounter, you can hardly know her well. What if your assumptions about her were misplaced?” Audrey’s eyes were sharp.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“If you chose to be with her and it threatened to crumble your life down around you, what then? Would you regret it? Would you abandon her, wish you had never met her?”
James lowered his head, thinking over his response. He stared at the remnants of his tea in cup before he spoke again.
“What about Gillian’s life?” he asked.
“Pardon?” Audrey didn’t seem to understand him, so he continued.
“Well, you say being with her might crumble my life down around me, but would it similarly damage hers? If so, then I would have no choice but to spare us both that pain. But if you are talking about my life alone…well. I believe there are certain people in life who are worth the heartache and difficult times. For me, Gillian is that woman. I truly believe she is worth anything.”
Audrey smiled, but there was a hint of sorrow there that worried him.
“I must warn you. Gillian’s life has not been easy, and she has secrets of her own. Secrets she believes will hurt any man she loved if they were ever discovered. Are you brave enough to face her when she tells you the truth?”
James frowned. The truth? That implied Gillian was lying, or at least holding back from him.
“Is she in love with someone else? Is there another man with whom—”
“No, of course not!” Audrey assured him.
A swell of relief flooded him. “Then yes, I can brave any truth so long as I have a chance to win her.”
“Good.” She clapped her hands in delight and leaned forward. “Then here’s what you must do. You will receive an invitation from my sister to attend a house party one week from now. You will accept. Gillian will be there. You will have your chance to win her then.”
“A week.” He mouthed the words, still frowning.
“You can be patient, can’t you, my lord?”
“Of course.” He almost confessed that he felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for Gillian, but he hadn’t known it was her he was waiting for her until he saw her in the modiste’s shop.
He could still see her face when he pulled back the curtain, thinking it was his sister who’d called for help. Instead he’d glimpsed Gillian in a lovely purple gown, her back exposed, her gray eyes wide and oh-so-lovely lips. He had wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss away all the worries that showed on her face. She seemed to be a kindred spirit. A woman who spent all of her life worrying about and caring for others like he did.
True, he belonged to the Wicked Earls’ Club, but unlike the other members, he could not lose himself in gambling, wine, or women. He merely wished to vanish into the darkness of the exclusive club. It was the only way he could escape his burdens, and he despised that he needed that escape. When he was with Gillian, he felt like he could breathe again. She banished the shadows inside him. For a woman like that, he would do anything.
“We shall see you in a week.” Audrey stood, and he knew she was politely dismissing him. Not that he minded. He had much to think on and still had other avenues to pursue. He wanted to see if he could meet with Lord Morrey and ask him if he knew Gillian in some way. Audrey had made it clear that the lady had secrets, yet James could not imagine anything so bad. She was too sweet to have truly damning secrets.
He retrieved his hat from a footman by the entrance. Audrey walked him to the door, and he paused as he stepped into the sunny afternoon.
“Miss Sheridan, if you do see her, will you tell her—” He didn’t want to sound foolish and sentimental. “Tell her that I’m thinking of her.”
“I shall,” Audrey promised.
James hastened down the steps to the street, where he summoned a coach. He rode to Jonathan St. Laurent’s townhouse only a few streets away, hoping to find him home. After last night’s rather desperate mission, he felt he and Jonathan were like accidental brothers in arms when it came to rescuing damsels in distress. He wished he could have asked Audrey more about why she’d been there last night and how her battle with Langley had begun and led to the events of the previous evening, but he had a feeling she would keep her secrets.
When he reached Jonathan’s home, he rehearsed his appeal a dozen different ways. When he settled on one, he finally lifted the knocker and rapped on the door.
The butler who met him allowed him inside and asked him to wait while he ascertained whether Jonathan was able to receive him. He didn’t take long.
“This way, my lord.” The butler escorted him into a drawing room where Jonathan was standing by a window, but he wasn’t alone. Godric St. Laurent, the Duke of Essex, stood beside him, and the two brothers were talking quietly. Godric had a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, giving him a brotherly pat before he turned and saw James.
“Pembroke, how the devil are you?” Godric came over and shook his hand.
“I’m well, Your Grace, and you?” James grinned at the duke.
“Good, good. Offering my brother a bit of advice on women. He’s still a young pup.” The duke nudged James in the arm conspiratorially. Jonathan turned to face him, and Pembroke nearly paled. The man had a black eye and wasn’t smiling at all.
His night, it seemed, had been far more difficult than James’s. But that was hardly surprising. Jonathan had been greatly outnumbered, taking on several men at once.
It was damned good luck he hadn’t gotten more bruised.
“Not so young,” Jonathan snorted, but the affection for his brother was clear in his voice.
“Yes, well, you’re young enough not to just take what you want.”
“And some ladies object to being carried off. Your wife certainly did.” Jonathan laughed. The duke laughed as well, and the sound of the brothers was so similar that it made James smile again.
“Yes, wives object at first. But that’s how you make them wives, when they’re objecting.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes and looked to James. “How’s that for circular logic, eh?”
Godric shrugged. “It worked for me, and it will work for you. Trust me, I know that little sprite too well. She won’t sit around waiting for a proposal. You can ask for forgiveness later.”
Jonathan shook his head and sighed. “You don’t know her like I do. I won’t live long enough to reach the forgiveness stage if I cross her.”
James wasn’t certain which woman they were discussing, but he had a sneaking suspicion it had to be Audrey. Only a man in love with a woman would have snuck into the club last night like Jonathan had. Like I did…
“Well.” Godric focused back on James. “I understand you two had an interesting night.” Godric glanced between James and his younger brother.
“Yes, we did. A very interesting night,” James replied carefully, unsure of how much Godric knew.
“As much as I’d love to stay, I best be getting back to my wife. She’s most insistent we discuss nursery plans.”
“You are expecting?” James grinned at the thought of one of London’s most infamous rogues tending to a baby nursery.
“Yes, next winter.” The duke’s smile was wide, and his eyes were warm. “The baby will be born in January.”
James clapped Godric on the shoulder. “My congratulations, then! Lady Essex must be thrilled.”
“We both are,” Godric said with a laugh. “But damned if her delicate condition has stopped her from causing trouble. Lord, Emily has a knack for that.”
Godric’s words earned a laugh from Jonathan. “Emily’s middle name is Trouble. She almost got me shot, by you, my own brother, no less.”
The duke glowered in a mocking way. “Because you tried to seduce her. And I didn’t know you were my brother, or I would have just punched you.”
“Well I didn�
�t know she was in love with you. Can’t blame a man for trying when he thinks he has a chance.”
Godric crossed his arms. “Yes, well she’s happily married now—to me. And you have your own wife to catch.”
At this Jonathan nodded soberly and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Catch indeed.”
“Why don’t you join us for drinks at Berkley’s tonight?” Godric suggested to James.
“I’d be happy to.” They made their farewells to the duke and were soon left in peace. When he was gone, Jonathan exhaled, his shoulders dropping.
The air of defeat seemed unlike him. James was used to Jonathan’s grins and laughter and amusing tales about his brother and his band of friends, the League of Rogues, as London had taken to calling them thanks to Audrey’s depictions in her Lady Society column. But this quiet, sober man was unsettling.
“So, last night,” James said at last. “How the devil did you find out about that hellfire club?”
Jonathan’s lips twitched. “I could ask the same of you. I keep a close eye on Miss Sheridan. She’s always in the midst of trouble.”
Ah, so he had been right in assuming Jonathan had feelings for Audrey. He couldn’t help but wonder what the other man thought of Audrey’s secret occupation as a columnist for the Quizzing Glass Gazette.
“You know then that—”
“She’s Lady Society? Yes, I discovered that an hour before we ended up at that infernal club. I went after her, but when I saw—” He stopped abruptly, closing off all emotion in his expression.
James pursed his lips. Jonathan was hiding something, but what? And why?
Jonathan soon recovered. “However, it seems we got out of there without much harm done. To us, at any rate.”
“Indeed.” James paused and then decided to come out directly and ask the question burning inside him.
“Do you know Miss Beaumont?”
“Gillian? I mean yes.” He smiled. “I know Miss Beaumont.”
