After Dark with a Scoundrel

by Alexandra Hawkins

  Nina shut the book that she had been reading and placed it on her lap. “Good heavens!”

  Regan tried to appear innocent. “I beg your pardon?”

  Her friend rolled her eyes heavenward. “I cannot believe your audacity. Now tell us the truth, is your brother aware that you are in Town?”

  Thea gasped. “But you told Mama—”

  Regan gave her friends an exasperated look. “Be sensible. Our recent travels have added to the delays in my correspondence with my brother. While Frost is looking forward to seeing me”—she crossed her fingers behind her back and prayed that her words were true—“he most likely has not received my last letter.”

  There was no reason to tell Thea and Nina that Frost was expecting to see her in August when he returned to the family’s country estate.

  Her arrogant brother had not mentioned London at all.

  Thea thought Regan’s explanation was sound. “Should we send a messenger to his town house?”

  Unconvinced, Nina glanced at Thea and then Regan. She nodded, silently agreeing to whatever plan Regan had concocted. “Or that club he frequents. Oh, what is it called?”

  “Nox,” Regan absently replied, rising from her chair. With Frost’s letter in her hand, she gracefully strolled over to the small fireplace. “I do not believe that will be necessary, ladies. Some messages are best delivered in person.”

  Regan bent down and dropped Frost’s letter onto the burning coal embers. The folded paper quickly caught fire, the flames greedily destroying the letter.

  Her banishment was finally over.

  * * *

  Dare smoothed his hair back before he pulled the crimson drapery aside and entered the private theater box that Hunter had rented for the season. His late arrival would likely provoke a few comments from his friends.

  Frost did not disappoint him.

  With his chair positioned at an angle to accommodate his long legs, the earl grinned up at him. “Why, a good evening to you, Lord Hugh!”

  Dare stepped over his friend’s legs and nodded to Hunter and Saint, who had yet to take their seats. “Keep your nasty wit to yourself, Frost. I know that I am late. It could not be helped.”

  Frost pivoted, pulling his legs in as he faced Dare. “How kind of you to join us this evening. I must confess when I espied Lady Pashley sitting alone in her box, I feared that your honorable nature might rear its ugly head and put an irreparable blight on our promising evening.”

  “If true, Dare’s honor might not be the only head rising this evening,” Saint muttered to Hunter as he nudged the duke.

  Dare acknowledged his friend’s ribald comment with a low chuckle. He peered out into the sea of private boxes in search of his brother’s marchioness. He spotted her one tier down. Another couple had joined Allegra, and with luck they would remain at her side for the evening.

  “Unlike you, Frost, manners and duty may dictate me to stop by Lady Pashley’s private box to pay my respects. Nevertheless, I have no inclination to tarry.”

  Frost snorted, making his disbelief apparent.

  “While you may find this difficult to believe, another lady has engaged my attentions this evening.” Dare was in too good a mood to be annoyed with Frost. “Mrs. Randall has invited me to call on her after Lord and Lady Quinton’s ball.”

  Frost’s eyebrows slid upward as he nodded with begrudging approval. Hunter and Saint offered their congratulations. The lovely twenty-eight-year-old widow had come out of mourning last season. She had rejected all suitors and, as far as anyone knew, all potential lovers. The young widow had even been impervious to Frost’s charms.

  “I assume you expect us to join you at Lord and Lady Quinton’s ball?” Frost said, casting a sly glance in Lady Pashley’s direction.

  Dare braced his palm against the back of his friend’s chair and stared directly into Frost’s turquoise-blue eyes. “Mrs. Randall never mentioned me joining her at the ball. Nor would she approve of me bringing the likes of you along to her town house.”

  “Widows are daring creatures. She might be agreeable with the proper enticement,” Frost said, bringing his gloved hand up to the apex of his trousers to make his vulgar point.

  All four men laughed, earning them several curious looks from the nearby boxes. Dare sat down beside Frost. He was looking for another subject to distract his friend when Saint came to the rescue.

  “Has anyone heard from Reign or Sin this evening?”

  Hunter slid into the seat in front of Dare. “Sin will join us later. His wife decided to sit with her mother and sisters this evening.”

  A noncommittal noise rumbled in Frost’s throat. He did not exactly approve of Lady Sinclair, and the lady did not hide the fact that she was merely tolerant of Frost for her husband’s sake.

  Hunter gave their friend a bemused glance. “Show some respect, Frost. Lady Sinclair is expected to deliver the Sinclair heir sometime in September. Sin is just protective of his lady.”

  “And Reign?” Dare prompted.

  “Worse than Sin, now that he is a father.” Saint crossed his arms across his chest and braced his stance by bending his left knee. “He left London five days ago to collect his wife and infant daughter. Reign did not want them traveling alone.”

  Dare could not blame Reign. He had never seen a gentleman so besotted. Last season, when Reign had encountered Lady Sophia Northam at a ball, he had fallen hard for the demure blonde. Reign had the lady wedded, bedded, and with child before the season had ended.

  “Another good man…,” Frost mumbled, the rest of his sentence unintelligible, but his meaning was clear to his friends.

  Frost enjoyed ladies as well as any other gent. He just did not view them as anything permanent in a man’s life. As far as the earl was concerned, marriage had ruined Sin and Reign.

  To some degree, Dare silently agreed with Frost. His older brother’s marriage to Allegra was a miserable union, and Reign’s first marriage to Miss Roberts had been an unmitigated disaster. Still, both Reign and Sin seemed happy in their recent marriages. Dare did not begrudge his friends their newfound bliss.

  While Saint regaled them with Vane’s latest mischief, Dare idly observed the lords and ladies from private box to private box. He immediately spotted Lady Sinclair. Seated beside Lady Harper, the marchioness was engrossed in a discussion with one of her sisters. Sin was nowhere in sight.

  Dare moved on to another private box, recognizing some of the patrons as he let his gaze continue to wander. It meant nothing if his attention lingered on Allegra. After all, she was a beautiful woman. If his heart ached, it was his own damn business. Before his older brother had stolen her from him, Allegra had been his.

  Frost often teased him about Allegra, but his friend did not understand Dare’s inner conflict. While a part of him would always love the lady, he also hated her. His familial obligations kept him tethered, and he seemed doomed to never be quite free from her.

  And his brother enjoyed Dare’s torment.

  Before he could dwell further on his dark thoughts, a glint of amber caught Dare’s eye, distracting him from Allegra’s private box. One tier up and two boxes to the right, a dark-haired lady in an amber evening dress presented him her elegant profile. Captivated, he watched as the silken fabric of her dress gleamed like the sun while the candlelight from the chandeliers played across the angles of her puffed sleeves and skirt. Her dark tresses had been pulled high, and only a few curls near her hairline had escaped. The lady’s pale creamy complexion was untouched by the sun, yet even in the dim interior of the theater, her skin glowed with health and vitality.

  Dare watched as she extended her gloved hand to a gentleman who had slipped into their private box to pay the woman and her female companions his respects. Slightly envious that the gent had discovered the lady in amber before he had, Dare leaned forward as he watched the silent courtship play out for his eyes. The young woman smiled and gestured as she formally introduced her friends. The gentleman bowed, his eye
s remaining on his amber prize.

  Arrogant bastard.

  The gentleman was older and possessed a weak chin. Possibly two. A lady of wealth and beauty could do better. The three gentlemen entering the crowded box must have thought the same thing.

  Dare stood when the young woman brought her hand to her heart, and then practically threw herself into the arms of one of her would-be suitors. His gaze narrowed as recognition flooded his envious heart.

  “What the devil—is that Vane?” Dare said, his voice infused with such fury that Frost, Hunter, and Saint ceased speaking and stared at him with varying degrees of amazement.

  He could not blame them for their curiosity. Dare did not understand his reaction himself. A small part of him was still tempted to leap from box to box until he reached Vane so he could have the pleasure of tossing the rogue headfirst into the pit.

  What spared him was that the woman in amber released Vane and stepped back. At Vane’s urging, she looked across the interior of the theater. Dare inhaled sharply as his hungry gaze drank in her beauty. Familiarity tickled his senses, but it was elusive. Unexpectedly their gazes locked, and the dark-haired beauty seemed almost as startled as he was by the impact.

  Recognition popped in his head like miniature fireworks.

  The last time Dare had seen her endearing face, it had been sullied by soot and grime.

  “Gents!” Sin said, bursting through the closed curtains at the back of their private box. He was grinning from ear to ear. “Why did no one tell me that our little Regan has come home?”

  Chapter Four

  The confrontation was inevitable.

  From across the theater, Regan could have sworn she felt the invisible undercurrents of her brother’s surprise and growing fury that she had ignored his dictates.

  Then there was Dare.

  Regan had not expected to encounter him on her first night in London. Nor had she thought her face would warm and her heart race at the mere sight of him. When Frost had sent her away, she had written Dare and begged him to appeal to her brother on her behalf.

  His response had been swift and brief.

  Behave yourself, mon coeur.

  Dare had not offered her words of love or regret. Regan had burst into tears when she had read his note. She had gone on to appeal to the other members of the Lords of Vice, but they had all abandoned her.

  Regan allowed Vane to lead her away from the front of the theater box where Lady Karmack, Thea, and Nina were seated to give them a small measure of privacy, which amounted to very little in a crowded theater.

  “You are causing a spectacle, my dear,” Vane said, his eyes twinkling with charm and merriment.

  Her right brow lifted coquettishly. Her brother and his friends would ascertain soon enough that she had learned more than housekeeping and genteel arts at Miss Swann’s Academy for Young Ladies.

  “How so?” she said, her senses humming pleasantly under Vane’s admiring regard.

  “Your beauty will stir speculation. Everyone will want to be introduced to the dark-haired beauty in the amber dress.” He clasped her gloved hand and brought it to his lips.

  Regan tipped her head to one side. She was enjoying Vane’s flirtation. “So you like the dress? Good. I hope my brother will appreciate it as well, since I told the dressmaker to send all my bills to him.”

  Vane squeezed her hand affectionately before he released it. “It’s stunning. I almost swallowed my tongue when I realized that the lady in amber used to be my eager assistant. However, Frost’s reaction to your low-cut bodice is not the spectacle you should worry about.”

  “Then what?”

  “The gossip, of course,” Vane said in a cheerful tone. “Before the ton deduces exactly who you are to Frost, I’ll wager that what happens next will pique everyone’s curiosity.”

  “Vane, what are you—”

  The crimson curtains at the back of the box flew open with a dramatic flourish. In a nervous gesture, Regan touched the citrine necklace that adorned her neck. The swag front was composed of flower-head clusters and pear-shaped drops. It had been a gift from Frost on her nineteenth birthday.

  Sin, Hunter, and Saint walked through the opening, followed by Frost and Dare. The five of them together made an impressive entrance. Her throat tightened with emotion at the sight of them. Good heavens, soon they were going to have to start tossing the chairs off the balcony to accommodate everyone.

  Regan glanced at Vane. “You did warn me,” she said lightly.

  Sin was the first to embrace her. “Lady Regan. You clean up well, my girl.” Not caring if they had an audience or not, he passed her on to Hunter.

  “I hear no lady will have you,” Regan teased when he kissed her hand.

  “Perhaps I was waiting for you to grow up, imp,” Hunter quipped, earning a snort from Frost. His Grace winked at her brother and nudged her toward Saint.

  “It is good to see you again, Saint,” Regan said, her eyes misting as she realized she had her family back. “I never had a chance to thank you for that lovely French soap that you sent me.”

  Saint pinched her chin playfully. “I was not certain you would use it.”

  Regan was aware that Nina and Thea were likely wide-eyed and speechless at the sheer number of handsome males that had invaded Lady Karmack’s private box. Introductions were expected, and she would get to them as soon as she greeted her brother.

  And Dare.

  Neither gentleman had moved closer. Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach, Regan stepped away from Saint and approached her brother. He and Dare stood like watchful sentinels on either side of the closed curtains, waiting for her to come to them.

  Regan was not fooled by their bland expressions. Halting in front of Frost, she curtsied. “Good evening, brother. You look well.” Feeling like a brave mouse that was about to pull the hungry cat’s whiskers, Regan leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

  Her brother turned his head slightly, and she felt his warm lips brush against her cheek. “Regan,” Frost drawled. “What are you about?”

  Regan pulled back. “Did you not receive my letter?” she asked, feigning innocence.

  “Meaning you have been planning this mischief for some time” was his dry reply, his turquoise-blue eyes staring into hers as if he could peer into her soul.

  Since it appeared Frost was not prepared to embarrass her in public, Regan touched her brother lightly on the arm. “Brother, pray forgive me for my atrocious manners.” She raised her arm in a gracious sweeping motion to include the two ladies behind her. “I have neglected to introduce you to my dear friends, Miss Tyne and Miss Bramwell. And, of course, I would be remiss in forgetting our gracious chaperone, Lady Karmack. You do remember our cousin, do you not?”

  “Regan,” Frost said, the growl in his voice alerting her that he was not oblivious to her mockery. “Why do we not leave the introductions to Vane since he seems to be enjoying himself?”

  Regan looked over her shoulder to discover that Vane and the other Lords of Vice were chatting amiably with Thea and Nina under Lady Karmack’s quiet scrutiny. Both of her friends appeared flustered by all the attention. Later, she would explain to them that her brother’s friends were the sort of gentlemen Miss Swann had told them to avoid at all costs.

  Every last one of them was a scoundrel.

  Including Frost.

  Of course, during her absence, two quick-witted ladies had managed to leg-shackle Sin and Reign. Frost had been rather sullen about the marriages. Nevertheless, Regan was looking forward to meeting the women. She hoped they would welcome her friendship once she made it clear that she was nothing like her brother.

  Regan stepped away from Frost, only to find her wrist encircled by his fingers. She raised her hand to catch the viscountess’s eye. “Lady Karmack, I shall return shortly. My brother wishes to continue our tender reunion on the other side of the curtain where we might not disturb the other patrons.”

  “Lady Regan, I do not believe�
�” Lady Karmack began as a frown creased her forehead.

  “Indulge me, madam,” Frost said, gifting the older woman with a guileless smile. “I have not seen my dear sister in many months, and I only wish to have a private word with her. She shall be returned to your custody in a few minutes.”

  Lady Karmack was baffled by her brother’s announcement. “Oh. Then Lady Regan will not be taking up residence in your town house this season?”

  Frost shot a silently furious look in Regan’s direction. Her dazzling smile was beatific, even while she gripped the blades of her closed fan so tightly, the edge was cutting into her white kid gloves. Without a word, Frost escorted her through the opening in the curtains Dare had provided for them.

  Neither Frost nor Regan had invited him to join them. However, Dare had glimpsed the fire in the depths of Frost’s eyes. His friend’s posture was far from welcoming, and he wagered Regan was about to feel the unpleasant sting of her brother’s displeasure.

  Frost released his sister the second the curtain closed. “You disobeyed me.”

  “I did nothing of the kind.” Almost eight inches shorter than her brother, Regan did not appear to appreciate her precarious situation. “I wrote you a rather lengthy letter that explained my intention to join Lady Karmack and her family in London.”

  “And I wrote you a letter that explicitly ordered you to remain in the country,” Frost said through clenched teeth.

  “Well, that would have been rather lonely since the Karmacks were traveling to town,” she said, crossing her arms over the front of her amber bodice.

  The angry motion of defiance lowered Dare’s gaze to Regan’s breasts. The sloped satin neckline displayed a generous amount of flesh. The pressure from her arms plumped her breasts further, inching the enticing globes higher until Dare was concerned that the dear lady might pop out of her scandalous dress.

  Not realizing he had been holding his breath until he saw black spots in his dimming vision, Dare dragged a ragged inhale into his empty lungs. It took all his inner fortitude to tear his gaze away from the front of Regan’s bodice.