One Naughty Night2

by Laurel McKee

  “I did that once when they came for me,” Beaumont said. “And look what happened. Won’t do that again.”

  Beaumont stepped away from his fallen victim and tossed aside his stick. There was a sudden flash of lamplight on metal as he drew out a knife. He and Aidan circled each other warily, never taking their eyes off each other as Aidan waved the constables back. This was his fight now, and the fewer people who were hurt the better.

  Suddenly Beaumont gave a terrible grin and lunged forward with his knife raised to strike, as if he cared not at all that Aidan held a weapon or that a flood of men waited to seize him. Beaumont let out a guttural shout, and Aidan slid to the right and behind him, driving him back as anger rose up in him like a crimson tide.

  Aidan drove Beaumont toward the wall with a furious series of strikes and feints. He hardly noticed the vicious blows Beaumont landed, the blood that trickled down his arm from a lucky strike. Beaumont lashed out with his foot and tripped Aidan, sending him crashing to the floor.

  Aidan seized Beaumont’s arm as he went down and dragged him along with a violent crash. In a fight that seemed to last an hour but surely only went on for only seconds, they grappled for Aidan’s gun. It went off with a deafening roar and a blinding cloud of smoke. Aidan twisted the man’s arm sharply and pushed him off with one great heave as the gun clattered to the floor. Blood and sweat hung heavy in the air as Aidan became aware of the other men shouting and the women sobbing.

  He scrambled to snatch the fallen gun, and just as Beaumont reached for his throat, he brought the grip of the pistol down hard on his head. Once, twice, until at last Beaumont collapsed unconscious.

  Aidan leaped to his feet and stared down at the fallen man. He remembered Lily’s white, frightened face, and the fury that had been ebbing away roared back. He leaned forward as if to kick Beaumont once more, but a hard hand caught his arm and dragged him back. He spun around to see it was Nick who held him as the constables swarmed around Beaumont.

  “Aidan, it’s done,” Nick said.

  Aidan scrubbed his hand over his face as exhaustion claimed him. It was done—Lily was safe now. Safe from Beaumont anyway.

  She would never truly be safe from Aidan, or he from her.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ST. GILES MONSTER CAPTURED!

  Lily ran her fingertip over the screaming black headline splashed across the newspaper. Just beneath it was a sketch of Tom Beaumont being hauled to Newgate, his weathered face twisted into a snarl. Somehow the artist made him look even uglier and more menacing than in real life, a monster in truth. She shuddered just looking at the dark gleam in his eyes.

  She quickly skimmed the rest of the story, a dramatic and no doubt overblown tale of the hunt for the “notorious criminal madman” through the slums after he was blamed for the robbery and near-murder of a goldsmith in Southwark. “Informants” were of “great assistance” in the search and in the arrest which had resulted in the wounding of two constables. “Business proprietor” Nick Riley gave a statement on the great relief felt among his patrons at the apprehension of such a menace.

  Informants. Lily heard Aidan’s voice in her head, telling her he knew many people in many places. That she no longer had to fear Tom Beaumont. She remembered her anger the last time she was with Aidan, but this made their fight seem small and petty now.

  She slowly folded up the paper and placed it next to her untouched breakfast plate. It seemed Aidan had been busy in the days since she had last seen him at the Devil’s Fancy. He had sent her a few notes telling her “progress” was being made, and she was to stay safely with her family and not worry.

  She had wondered so many times what he was doing, where he was. Now it appeared he had been engineering an arrest.

  And she couldn’t help but smile. Tom Beaumont was locked away in Newgate. No matter how he got there, he wouldn’t appear in her life again. She was free of him, and her family was safe.

  Oh, Aidan, she thought. What did you do?

  “You look disgustingly happy this morning, Lily,” Dominic suddenly growled from across the table.

  Lily glanced up at him and smiled. Dominic had looked distinctly rough around the edges for the last few days, his golden hair rumpled, his eyes shadowed, his features sharp and almost feral. After rehearsals at the theater, he would disappear, not returning until breakfast time, if then. Now he sat slumped in his seat, his plate pushed away, nursing a cup of strong coffee. His clothes looked as if he hadn’t changed them since last night, his fine coat creased and his cravat hanging loose.

  He glared at her, which only made her laugh. “I am happy this morning,” she said. “The sun is shining, I’m going off to buy a new hat after breakfast, and the receipts at the Majestic and the club have both been excellent lately. Why should I not be in a good mood?”

  “That makes quite a change,” Dominic said. “You’ve been all quiet and broody. Why the sudden change?” He frowned at her suspiciously. “There must be a reason.”

  A reason like a man? A Huntington man? Lily refused to be baited, not this morning, when she finally dared to begin to hope that things might be all right after all. She just shook her head and reached for her fork to taste her eggs.

  “You are hardly in a position to complain about anyone being broody, Dominic,” she said. “You’ve been a complete bear these last few days. What is the matter with you?”

  Brendan laughed from his seat at the end of the table. Brendan hardly ever laughed, and it sounded a bit deep and rusty. Lily turned to him, startled.

  “It’s probably a woman,” Brendan said, and calmly turned the page of his own copy of the paper. A faint smile lingered around his mouth, softening the harsh, ascetic lines of his scarred face. “I knew you would take a fall eventually, Dom. Was it the mysterious card player from the club last week?”

  “A woman?” Lily said. She stared across the table at Dominic, astonished by the sudden angry flush that appeared on his unshaven cheeks. “Was it the woman in the black gown? Who was she?”

  “Shut up, both of you,” Dominic said, his voice full of barely leashed fury. “You know me better than to think I would ‘take a fall’ over a woman. Especially not a teasing witch like that one.”

  Lily raised her brow in question at Brendan, and he shook his head. She burned with curiosity to know what had happened between Dominic and the lady in black to make him behave like this. Dominic never lost control over a woman—they always fell right into his arms, and then he had them and moved on. But she could see very well she would learn nothing more about it today, or ever. She suspected Dominic would smash his coffee cup against the wall if she pursued the topic.

  She took another bite of her eggs and said calmly, “What about the assembly at Holland House tonight? We shouldn’t waste the invitation. There is sure to be some potential members for the club in attendance, and Father will want to promote the new production at the Majestic, even if he’s too busy to attend himself. We need to accept whenever we receive respectable invitations like this.”

  William St. Claire’s chair at the table was empty, as it had been ever since Katherine, Isabel, and James left for the seaside. He was deeply involved in preparing the new Much Ado About Nothing and dealing with new difficulties with his actors and the sets. But Katherine had written to remind Lily about the assembly and urged her to attend.

  Brendan and Dominic both groaned at the mention of such a stuffy soiree.

  “I know. It’s sure to be deadly dull,” Lily said. “But we should do our duty and go. If we attend, we will receive more invitations. I can’t attend without an escort, and I want to wear my new lilac-colored gown. Dominic?”

  “I’m for damned sure not going,” he answered. “I have a prior engagement. Take Brendan. It’s his turn to be dutiful anyway.”

  Lily frowned at him. She could just imagine what that “other engagement” was—at a bawdy house or gambling hell. But she could see from the hard glint in his eyes that he was not going t
o relent. “Very well, then. Brendan will take me.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d believe I also have another engagement?” Brendan said.

  “No, I would not. Besides, the assembly will not run very late. You can meet up with Dominic for all your debaucheries after.”

  There was a sudden commotion in the corridor outside the breakfast room, a burst of laughter and slamming of doors, and the butler’s startled voice. Lily had just risen from her chair to see what was happening when the door flew open, and Isabel appeared there in a flurry of bonnet ribbons and red-gold curls. James trailed behind her quietly.

  “I’m back!” Isabel cried. “Did you all miss me?”

  “Issy, what on earth are you doing here?” Lily said as Isabel flew over to kiss her cheek before fluttering over to hug her brothers.

  “You’re meant to be at the seaside,” Dominic growled when she threw her arms around him.

  “Oh, it was so boring there,” Isabel declared. “I was so happy to get Father’s message saying the actress playing Hero was quite hopeless and could I come home immediately to take her place. Where is he, anyway?”

  “At the theater,” Brendan said, still looking bemused at his sister’s sudden appearance.

  “Then I should go there too,” Isabel said as she reached for the teapot. “I’ve been studying my lines on the journey. Now, what fun things do we have planned for tonight? Dominic, you look absolutely beastly. What have you been doing to yourself while I was gone?”

  “Don’t scowl like that, Brendan,” Lily heard Isabel say as their brother led them into the assembly. “You’ll frighten everyone away. No one will want to dance with me, and I don’t get to go to assemblies as often as I would like.”

  Brendan gave a harsh bark of laughter. “It would take much more than my frowns to keep your suitors away, more is the pity. None of these milksops hovering around here are worthy of you. Why did you make me come here anyway?” Brendan was never one for respectable society. Dominic was usually much more sociable.

  “I told you,” Lily said. “It’s good for business to be seen in respectable places.”

  “Respectable,” Brendan scoffed. “If you knew what half these fine people got up to when no one was looking…”

  “I can well imagine,” Lily said with a warning glance at Isabel, who stared at them with avid interest. “But tonight it doesn’t matter. Just smile and be charming.”

  “Ordinarily I would say Brendan was quite the wrong brother for that sort of thing,” said Isabel. “But Dominic has been such a bear all day, I wouldn’t trust him within a mile of such a gathering. I’ve never seen him in such a temper.”

  Lily accepted a glass of punch from a footman’s tray and sipped at the tepid brew as she thought of what Brendan had said—that Dominic was out of sorts over a woman. She had no idea what sort of female could possibly have her rakish brother so overset, but she knew all too well what it felt like to be tied up in knots by passion.

  She scanned the crowds of people, half hoping—or fearing—that Aidan might be among them. Every sort of person came to the Holland House assemblies, from the queen to well-to-do merchants, everyone vying to be seen and to meet the “right” contacts. Surely even the Huntingtons sometimes attended.

  But what would she do if she did see him? She could hardly talk to him, dance with him, touch him. Demand to know what he had done to get Tom Beaumont arrested, what kind of peril he put himself in.

  Or kiss him senseless.

  Lily studied the people around them. It was all much more subdued than an evening at the Devil’s Fancy, and a whole world away from cheap barrooms and the Lambeth night market. The young ladies, like Isabel in her pale blue organdy ruffles, wore pastels and pearls, while everyone else was a blend of dark greens and grays and purples against the men’s black evening coats. The dancers, a long, orderly line moving in a quadrille, were reflected in the gilt-framed mirrors. Conversation was subdued and polite.

  Lily caught a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall, another stylish, quiet figure in her dark lilac silk gown, and was shocked at how calm she appeared.

  An older couple who were frequent patrons of the Majestic stopped to ask about the new production, and Lily was soon distracted by the talk of plays. Even Brendan seemed to relax a bit from his usual tense watchfulness at social occasions. Isabel left to dance and returned as more people came by to converse. It was all a most ordinary, pleasant evening, a world away from where Lily had been lately.

  But then the doors opened and a new party appeared. The rest of the crowd seemed to part for them, and Lily heard the ripple of whispers move through the room. “The Duke of Carston…”

  She stiffened, her smile fading as she looked at the new arrivals. It was the Duke of Carston, seated in a large wheeled chair, his duchess walking beside him. She was a plump, pretty lady with graying brown hair that had probably once been the rich chestnut of Aidan’s, elegantly dressed in purple-and-blue plaid satin and diamonds. She smiled serenely around her as her fierce-faced husband scowled.

  Behind them was the black-haired beauty Lily had seen Aidan with in the park. She really was quite stunning, an exotic lady clad in ruffled white silk and lace, but she seemed distracted as she looked around the room. She held on to the arm of a man who seemed entirely out of place in the staid assembly room. He was tall and very lean, his strong shoulders straining the seams of his expensive evening coat. His hair, a slightly darker brown than Aidan’s and streaked with gold as if he spent lots of time outdoors, was long and tied back from the stark angles of his face. A light shadow of beard covered his jaw.

  And behind them… behind them was Aidan. Smiling down at the delicate, pretty little blonde at his side.

  Lily’s hand tightened on her glass, and she didn’t know where to look. She wanted to turn away, pretend to be indifferent, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Aidan’s face. She couldn’t stop the nonsensical instinct to run to him.

  Oh, she was truly a fool now.

  “Look how handsome Lord Aidan is tonight,” Isabel whispered in Lily’s ear. “Don’t you agree?”

  Lily gave a choked laugh. “He always looks far too handsome for the good of us females.”

  “But who is that other man? He looks quite fearfully wild,” Isabel said.

  Lily glanced at her to see that her sister looked far too intrigued by him.

  One of the ladies who stood nearby heard Isabel’s question and said, “Why, that is Lord David Huntington! The heir to the Duke of Carston. It’s quite strange he is here tonight. He never comes to London.”

  The heir, who Aidan feared would never be duke. Lily studied his stony face. He looked quite a lot like Aidan, but he did seem wild, as if he were barely confined by his fine clothes and the civilized surroundings. His golden-brown eyes were full of an almost feral caution as he scanned the gathering.

  He is a hermit—he drives our father crazy, she remembered Aidan saying. The two sons of a duke, a charming rogue and a wild man. It was like something in Shakespeare.

  “Lord David Huntington,” Isabel murmured. “How fascinating.”

  “Don’t get too fascinated, Issy,” Brendan said roughly. “You won’t ever be meeting him.”

  “Oh, don’t be so boring, Brendan,” Isabel moaned. “We are hardly the Montagues and Capulets, you know. Ouch!”

  Brendan had taken Isabel’s arm and was leading her out of the room. Lily hurried to keep up.

  “Who is the barbarian now?” Isabel said. She tried to twist her head around to look at Lord David again, and Lily almost laughed. If Brendan wanted to discourage Isabel’s interest in David Huntington, he was going about it in entirely the wrong way.

  “We’ve been here long enough,” Brendan said. “It’s time we were gone.”

  “Well, we can’t leave without our cloaks,” Lily said.

  “And I have to go to the ladies’ withdrawing room,” Isabel huffed. She yanked her arm out of Brendan’s grasp and turned tow
ard the staircase outside the assembly room. “You just wait here and cool your temper, brother.”

  Lily followed her into the pink sanctuary of the withdrawing room, where ladies were having their torn hems repaired by the maids or sitting before mirrored dressing tables to see to their coiffures.

  Isabel sank down onto a velvet chaise with a sigh. “Brothers. They can be such a blasted nuisance.”

  “He’s only trying to protect you,” Lily said. She automatically glanced in the mirror and smoothed her hair. She saw that her hand trembled over the brown strands. She wouldn’t have expected seeing Aidan in different, respectable surroundings with his family would affect her, but somehow it had. It reminded her of the truth of who they both were. The gulf that lay between them.

  “It’s better than being alone in the world,” she murmured.

  Isabel gave her a searching glance. “Of course it is. I love my brothers, even when they make me crazy. I just don’t see the need for them to behave in such a positively Borgia-like fashion whenever there’s a glimpse of a Huntington.”

  Lily sighed and sat down next to Isabel on the chaise. “I don’t either. But they are men, and therefore by definition unfathomable.”

  “Have you seen Lord Aidan since that day in the park?” Isabel whispered.

  “Once or twice,” Lily answered carefully. She couldn’t tell Isabel the truth of her affair with Aidan, the long nights when she couldn’t stay away from him. No one could know about that, ever.

  Unless something had happened that night when they didn’t use precautions. Then everyone would know soon enough.

  No, Lily thought adamantly. She pressed her hands to her stomach, flattened by the bones of her corset. She felt ill just thinking about it. Ill and… strangely, horribly something like hopeful. But a child would mean ruin. Besides, she reminded herself, she had never conceived with her husband or anyone else, and her courses were due soon. It was nothing to fret about.

  She pushed away the thought and smiled at Isabel, who was watching her thoughtfully.