“Good God, man,” Giles pushed him back down. “Stay still. What the devil happened? Where’s Miss Allenthorpe?”
“Fine. Safe,” Leach croaked. He waved his battered hand for a drink, which the eldest of Richardson’s daughters delivered with considerable care. Lips moistened, but his voice still crackly, Leach beckoned Giles closer. “My Lord Darleston came. He took her just before they arrived. A few minutes. I barely had time to follow his instructions. He knew. Had me dispose of her things.”
“If my brother knew Macleane was on the way, he must have learned it after he left us.” Neddy joined their huddle. He too supped an offered drink. “She’s safe, Giles. Robert wouldn’t let any harm become her.”
“Lady Darleston…with Macleane…” Leach stuttered. “They came looking for Miss Allenthorpe. Had his men break the lock to get in. I did try to stop them.”
“I can see that.”
“Probably the same three Robert warned off Gabriel.” Neddy sought his gaze, but Giles couldn’t bear to make eye contact. Instead, he curled his palm over Leach’s bandaged hands.
“Did me best, sir. Wasn’t no good them thumping me. I don’t know where he’s taken her. He wouldn’t tell me. Said it were too risky, and that he’d send word once they were settled via Neddy.”
Giles stiffened and he pulled himself straight, panic bells sounding again inside his head. “But he knew you were with me,” he said accusingly, staring at Neddy.
“That’s enough,” said Mrs. Richardson, bustling towards them. She fanned them away from Leach and tucked a blanket up to the man’s chin. “He needs his rest. You heard him, doctor said so.”
“Have him sleep off the worst,” said Dr. Ashby. “I’ve given him laudanum. See he takes more when he comes to, and nothing but broth and water to pass his lips. I’ll call back tomorrow.” Having gathered his things, he gave Giles a farewell nod. “Mr. Dovecote.”
Giles dug in his pocket and put the contents into Mrs. Richardson’s hand to pay for Leach’s treatment. “See he’s taken care of,” he said, closing her fingers over the coins.
They left the Richardson’s residence and wound their way back to the carriage, leaving Richardson to the task of saving the house. John had joined the chain of men wielding snow-filled buckets. The flames were gone from the downstairs windows. “It all seems under control,” Neddy observed.
Back inside his stationary carriage, Giles bowed his head and dug his knuckles into his eyes.
“She’s safe, Giles.”
“Is she?” He looked up hopefully at his friend still unconvinced. “So where is she? Where’s your devil of a brother taken her, and why no message?”
“He’s probably sent it home. That’s where they’d look for me. There or Brooks’s. It’s a good thing he didn’t tell Leach, they’d have had it out of him in no time.”
“Perhaps.”
“Not perhaps, Giles. Definitely. You’ve seen what they’ve done to him.”
Giles reluctantly nodded. “All right. Darleston House, then.”
“We can clean ourselves up a little too. I don’t think Fortuna would care to see either of us soot stained and soiled.”
“I can’t think of clothes, Ned.”
For a moment their eyes locked, and the realization that his friend was as concerned, truly concerned for her safety as he, pierced Giles’s chest. All this time, they’d been enjoying themselves together, he’d never considered for a moment that Neddy’s feelings for her ran deeper than the surface.
Neddy jumped down from the carriage. Since John was still off helping fight the fire, the carriage and four wasn’t going anywhere, not unless he or Giles took up the reins, a task at which neither of them was adept.
“Walk,” Neddy said. He turned to make sure Giles was following. “If we need to drive later we can take Rob’s curricle. Meanwhile, a brisk pace should help get our minds ticking.”
They found a link-boy with a lantern amongst the crowd still enjoying the spectacle of the house fire. Mr. Richardson had everything in hand. Giles explained where to find him if the need arose. It did feel strange to walk away from the devastation, but he couldn’t force himself to stay. He’d return once he knew Fortuna was safe.
“You know, Giles,” Neddy observed as they trekked through the slowly parting fog, “you’ve become rather possessive. I’m just mentioning it because I’m wondering how much of your concern is actually over what she’s getting up to with Robert, rather than whether she’s safe from Macleane.”
Unable to face his friend to reply without exposing all the raw emotions surely visible in his expression, Giles kept his head bowed. “He knows how I feel about her.”
“Yes, but you keep telling us you’re all for free love. He’ll perform as the situation dictates.”
Giles took a frustrated wipe at the top of someone’s decorative stone gatepost. He wanted her to love him freely, not his friend.
Chapter Twelve
The bruise upon Neddy’s cheek had yellowed at the edges by the time they’d both scrubbed up and changed. Neddy had a supper served in his rooms as neither of them had eaten since luncheon, and had someone run over to Brooks’s to see if Darleston had left a message for them there. Giles picked at his food while his gaze constantly drifted toward the clock. It was only just after eight, many of the balls and fashionable occasions wouldn’t start for another hour or two, but he was painfully aware of how long it had been since he’d last seen Fortuna.
“Isn’t there any indication as to where your brother has gone?”
Neddy shook his head. “I spoke to George. Robert came back here after he left your place and took the carriage out a few minutes later, just after Andrew Morton left.”
Giles was on his feet immediately, his cutlery tossed carelessly across his plate. “Morton! Why was he here?
Neddy tutted at the mess. He lifted his wine glass, and rather more fluidly followed Giles onto his feet and over towards the window. “I don’t know, Giles. It could be a coincidence. Guests aren’t uncommon in this house. I mean, you don’t honestly think he’s involved, do you? I can’t see why he would be. Ain’t Morton a Whig? And Macleane’s a devote Tory. They’re hardly allies.”
Across the room, Giles pushed his head against the cold window pane. It did nothing to ease the tension in his brain. “Yes, you’re right.” There was little to connect his former brother-in-law to Macleane, he was simply leaping at every possibility out of fear. “It just seemed odd that his name would crop up again so soon. Your damned brother brought him up yesterday.” Normally, both the twins avoided mentioning anything even vaguely related to his sister’s death. “He made some god-awful incendiary remark about Morton having a fondness for spanking Emily’s backside.”
“Ah.” Neddy’s reflection became a little clearer in the dark glass, and his hand gripped Giles’s shoulder. “That solves the mystery of why he was here, then. Ain’t anything to do with Fortuna. I’ll bet he was here to see Lucy. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Morton was busy either whipping or swiving her when Robert arrived.”
Giles brushed Neddy’s hand aside, and spun to face him. “And then what? Are you suggesting the spiteful bitch then decided to spill the news of Fortuna’s whereabouts to Macleane as retaliation from having been caught and parted from her current beau?”
“She’s done worse over less.”
Giles’s nostrils flared. If he ever ran into that woman again he might well flay her alive. That might cure her of her fetish.
“Sir.” A footman came in carrying a silver tray. “A card arrived for you, sir.”
Neddy took the cream-colored card and waved the servant back out.
“She always did know how to hurt Robert most. She knows how much he cares about you, Giles. You must realize that’s why Fortuna intrigues him so much too.”
“Pardon?” Giles circled behind him, sensing he’d missed something, yet determined not to dwell to heavily on what Darleston might be up to with Fortuna. In
stead, he conjured an idyllic room in a coaching inn, the two of them cosseted before a fire, sipping tea and maybe playing patience while they awaited his arrival.
Neddy tapped the embossed card he was holding against the surface of the nearby sideboard.
“You know you really ought to speak to Morton properly at some point. Clear the air and get whatever it is that’s hanging between you sorted out.”
“Hmm!” He didn’t want to deal with Morton or Morton’s sister at the moment. “Right now, I’d rather focus my efforts on Fortuna. Where the devil has your damn brother taken her? What does that say?” He nodded at the card.
Neddy hesitated, before pushing it across the table towards him. The skin between Neddy’s brows grew deeply furrowed. He held on a moment when Giles reached to take the message.
“What is this?” Scarlet lettering announced an occasion three years past.
“It’s where he’s taken her. The date’s irrelevant. It’s the location that’s important.”
“Molly Coombe’s Boarding House?” Giles read out, flipping the card over. He scoured his mind for some memory of the place.
Ned pulled on his kid-gloves. “You won’t know it. It’s a brothel that caters to specific tastes.”
Giles frowned as Darleston’s numerous kinks dripped through his brain like iced-water. Tears—he didn’t believe there was a brothel anywhere that catered to that. Rump sports, there were plenty who’d consider it. “What sort of specific?” he was eventually forced to ask.
Neddy licked his lips, still refusing to meet Giles’s eyes. “Molly house specific.”
The trickle of icy misgiving in Giles’s chest turned into a torrent of misery. “Fuck!” he yelled. “Is he insane?” That Darleston knew the location of such a place was no real surprise, but that he’d taken Fortuna to such a den of iniquity—that was unthinkable. “He can’t take her to a place like that.”
“He already has, and you have to admit it has the flair of genius about it. It’s not where I’d go looking for a girl.”
Giles stormed halfway across the room, and punched a wall. Head cleared by the pain, he blew out a stream of air, then turned back to Neddy. “Do you know where this place is? Have you been there?”
Neddy calmly scooped up his hat. “Once, years ago. It’s not an experience I’ve needed to repeat, although it was certainly enlightening.”
Enlightening! Genius! Madness was what it was. Giles clenched both his fists and his teeth as images of Fortuna surrounded by link-boys, and coopers, butchers and stable-hands all flouncing about in dimity frocks besieged his tired mind. Hell, he’d wanted her to experience all that life had to offer in the way of pleasure, but the dirty realities of male vice were hardly relevant or required knowledge for anyone. Who in their right mind wanted to watch two filthy commoners rub their stubbly chins together while they worked each other’s pricks to eruption with their callused hands? Certainly not he.
Had Darleston no sense of propriety at all?
The tight squeeze of Neddy’s hand upon his shoulder jolted him back into the moment. He gritted his teeth and looked again at the card. Hopefully there were private rooms there and Darleston had her hidden in one.
“It’s why he married Lucy, you know.” Neddy remarked.
Giles frowned at the cryptic comment. “Eh?”
“The earldom didn’t require the match. Her family was barely worth speaking of, and they’ve no assets, but that’s what made them amenable. Giles, he likes men. He’s a soft spot for you. Has had for years.” He waved away Giles’s gawp of shock. “Our mother caught him screwing the second footman. She thought a nice little wife would keep him in check and give him something acceptable to do with his cock, like giving her some grandchildren.”
“She must have been sorely disappointed none arrived.” The remark rolled off his tongue blithely enough, but then he was momentarily foxed. Why had Darleston never shared that titbit of tragedy with him? Come to think of it, Darleston had never really spoken about anything to do with his marriage. It simply existed, as if there’d never been any alternative.
“Shall we away, Giles?”
“Yes. Let’s.”
* * * * *
“What time is it?”
Roused by her question, Darleston turned his head to find Fortuna sitting upright in the monstrous four-poster bed. She’d slept fully clothed, curled up like a frightened dormouse. “Late,” he replied.
“They’ve still not come?”
“Have faith.” He laid his head back against the chair wing and flicked his hand upward to brush away the hair that no longer cascaded over his shoulders; instead, he touched the ends of his more fashionable crop. “I think my brother has wit enough to decipher the clue, even if he displays a distinct lack of it on most occasions.”
Carefully, she slipped from beneath the covers and joined him by the fireside, sitting curled up on the rug beside his feet. “None of you are really like your reputations? You’re all fond of devilment, but you’re not truly wicked.”
There were many who would argue that point with her. “What makes you so sure? You don’t really know anything about any of us, only what you’ve seen in glimpses around Giles’s house.”
“I know you’re all kind and warm.” She ticked his leg. “Don’t scowl. You, especially put on a front and pretend you’re beastly, but you’re not. You’re just all tied up in knots, even bigger ones than mine.”
He arched his brows, but neither confirmed, denied nor remarked upon her observation. Maybe it was true that his demons rode him hard, and maybe there were knots inside him that were tied so tight he didn’t ever imagine them coming undone. “Are your sisters as they’re observed to be?” he asked, deliberately targeting her family in order to divert her attention away from him. “Your sister Mae is rumoured to be a saucy little minx.”
The reminder of home pulled all the warmth from her pretty oval face. Her eyes shone with fear, wide and impressively bright. For a moment he regretted focusing her attention in that direction again. “What am I to do?” She clasped his leg. “I don’t want to marry him, but how else can I appease Sir Hector?”
He wished he had an adequate answer. He had only a solution that required cooperation from a man even more stubborn and foolhardy than himself.
“If you go home now it’ll be the most foolish thing you’ve ever done,” he warned her. Not that he had any intention of allowing her to leave. The last thing in the world he desired was to let Giles down.
Darleston shuffled off the chair and onto the rug beside her. He placed one hand upon her shoulder and gently squeezed, the other he used to nudge up her chin. “You’re not foolish, Fortuna. Don’t even think of going.”
“But, Sir Hector… He’ll destroy my family. Truthfully, how badly did he hurt Gabriel?” She shook her head. “There’s no other option.”
“Don’t be so blind. The solution is obvious enough; you need to marry someone else. Someone amenable, who’s prepared to wed you and let you give Macleane the damn gem.”
It was a solution she didn’t believe in. She snorted and turned her face towards the roaring blaze. “And where, milord, am I to find this amenable soul that I’m supposed to tie myself to for life, and who will allow me to give away my only tangible asset? Should I ask for volunteers downstairs?”
He rose abruptly, suddenly agitated beyond reason. “You should marry Giles.” The way it came out made it sound like a curse. He didn’t want to get into this. He didn’t want to act as her advisor.
“But he won’t,” she snapped back. She rose onto her knees and stared up the length of his body at him, her eyes wide, pleading and fearful. “He’s made that plain repeatedly. As much as I wish it.”
He couldn’t stand to circle this topic for hours with her. There were aspects of it that rubbed certain wounds of his own raw. “We’ll just have to work on that.” He scooped up his coat from where it had tumbled onto the floor during their jousting. Fortuna’s gaze followed
his movements and made his skin heat. “Shall we stretch our legs while we wait?” he suggested, summoning calm from somewhere deep inside himself. They had to do something to occupy time. “I don’t think there’ll be any danger in moving about at this hour.” He jerked the chain of his timepiece so that it flipped out of his waistcoat pocket. “It’ll be down to the queans and the parlour crowd. Stay here a moment and I’ll check.”
Darleston didn’t go down to the parlour. Instead, he sat on the bottom step of the staircase and pressed his knuckles into his eye sockets. He couldn’t sit upstairs with her, trading hopes and secrets. There were things about himself he frankly just didn’t want to share, and unwittingly, she was already pressing too close to them.
He wasn’t about to get intimate with her again to cause a distraction either. That had been a strictly one-off affair. He had to remain true to Giles, regardless of how good it had felt having her tight, hot behind hugging his cock.
Hell if he wasn’t screwed up over that one, but at least he understood his fascination with her now. It was all about Giles. That’s what had made her interesting from the outset. Giles’s longing for her. Well, that, and her large luminous blue eyes. His cock jerked, arousal thickening in his chest as he remembered the salty taste of her tears.
He didn’t want her to cry again. He couldn’t deal with that, and she was only just holding herself together.
Giles, you blockheaded fool, he thought. How am I supposed to get you to drop your political manifesto? You can be happy together, if you’ll only open your eyes to how the world really works. Free love—he wasn’t convinced. He just couldn’t paint the world with such a rose-tinted hue. Nothing came without a price. He knew that only too well.
“You need to kick Neddy out of your bed, and realize what you have together, my friend,” he said to the absent Giles. “Now, before it’s too late.”
Three Times the Scandal (Georgian Rakehells) Page 23
