The Dukes of Vauxhall

by Vanessa Kelly, Christi Caldwell, Theresa Romain, Shana Galen

  He knocked the man’s hand from Antonia’s arm, then spun him around and delivered a crushing blow to his chin. The fellow dropped to the ground like he’d been shot.

  Antonia was still gaping at him when Roman all but lifted her off her feet. “Come on,” he said tersely, propelling her toward the exit.

  He used his shoulders and elbows to forge their way through the crowd, like Moses parting the Red Sea. The few who tried to protest took one look at his face and quickly shrank back.

  Roman Cantrell was the most awe-inspiring man Antonia had ever met.

  He was also a clearly furious man. She started planning how she could slip away before he delivered a thundering scold.

  “Don’t even think about it,” he growled in her ear.

  She adopted a wounded expression. “What?”

  “Getting away from me. You can run as fast as you can, and I’ll still track you down.”

  That actually sounded rather like fun.

  After a few more good shoves, they broke free. Roman hauled her past the crowd gathered around the entrance and onto one of the smaller walks leading to the perimeter of the Gardens. She was all but forced to jog to keep up with his long strides.

  “Would you please stop?” she finally spluttered. “My blasted cap is falling off.”

  He reluctantly ground to a halt. “All right, but hurry.”

  He half-turned away, both shielding her and keeping an eye on the crowds milling about the tent. His clenched jaw looked hard enough to crack walnuts.

  “I don’t suppose you saw my friend Richard, did you?” Antonia asked as she shoved her hair under the cap.

  He shot her an amazed look. “No, Miss Barnett, I was too occupied with saving your pretty arse from certain disaster.”

  She tried a placating smile. “I’m happy you came along when you did. That gentleman was very persistent. So, my grateful thanks, my dear sir.”

  His expression suggested she was a lunatic.

  “What?” she asked defensively.

  “For the first time in my life, I have sympathy for your father. I don’t know how he puts up with you.”

  That hurt, although she refused to show it. “Since you find my company so distressing, I’ll bid you goodnight.”

  When she tried to march past him, he reeled her back. “Where are you going?”

  “To find Richard, of course. He’s no doubt waiting for me outside the tent.”

  Roman shook his head. “He’s probably long gone by now.”

  “Richard would never abandon me. He is a true friend.”

  “A true friend? He’s an utter imbecile.” He ran a disapproving gaze over her outfit. “I take it this isn’t the first time you’ve gone prancing about in boys’ clothing. You look ridiculous, by the way. I don’t know how you expected to get away with this.”

  She resisted the urge to smack him. “You’re the first person to see through my disguise in three years, so you’re dead wrong. And I don’t prance.”

  His mouth sagged open. “You’ve been doing this for three years? You are insane.”

  “I am perfectly sane. Now get out of my way.”

  He let her push past but he was right on her heels. She threw him back a glare. “Are you coming to help find Richard or just making a pest of yourself?”

  “I’m escorting you home. We have to go back this way to get to the boat entrance to the Gardens.”

  “I don’t need—”

  Suddenly, they heard shouting ahead of them. Men began streaming out of the tent, running in all directions. The lamps in the tree branches started snuffing out one by one, plunging the Gardens into greater gloom.

  “Good Christ,” Roman muttered.

  “What’s happening?”

  He began hauling her further into the darkness. “I don’t know, but it can’t be good. Those were Bow Street Runners who came bursting out.”

  She glanced around as he hustled her from the commotion. All through the woods, lanterns were going out like fireflies winking off.

  “Who’s doing that?”

  “People who are up to no good.”

  A few moments later, he practically yanked her off her feet.

  “What in God’s name—”

  “Hush,” he whispered, pulling her behind an oak.

  Someone flashed by on the path, slim and sure-footed, before disappearing into the night. A few seconds later, two men barreled after him.

  “Those two looked like Runners,” she murmured.

  “Yes. We’ve got to get out of here without being seen.”

  “Why? We didn’t do anything wrong,” she said as he pulled her deeper into the cover of the trees.

  “No, but someone did, and I don’t want you to get caught up in it. You can’t be discovered.”

  “I’m not sure it matters anymore,” she muttered.

  The entire evening was a complete disaster, anyway.

  Except that she was with Roman. Antonia knew he would do anything to protect her, and that knowledge made her insides go soft and muddled. Almost unconsciously, she squeezed his fingers and brushed up closer to his protective warmth.

  “Are you all right, Antonia?” he asked gruffly. “You were all but trampled in that blasted tent.”

  “It was rather crowded, but—”

  The ground seemed to collapse underneath her. Roman lifted her right off her feet and scrambled back.

  “What was that?” she gasped.

  “Someone dug a pit and covered it up. I don’t know what the hell is going on tonight, but it’s dangerous. We need to lay low for a bit until things calm down.”

  Antonia wriggled her toes. Roman’s brawny arm encircled her waist, holding her tight in the air. She could feel his impressive strength, and every hard muscle pressed against her back and rear end. That had her heart fluttering like a moth, but not from fear. In fact, she had to repress the instinct to nestle closer, increasing the contact.

  Instead, she tapped his arm. “Then you should put me down so we could find someplace safe to hide.”

  He carefully lowered her to the ground. “I don’t suppose you know of any bolt holes close by, do you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” There were few parts of Vauxhall Gardens that she and Richard hadn’t thoroughly explored.

  “Why am I not surprised?” he said.

  “There’s an abandoned grotto by the far wall. Just past that lamp.”

  A forlorn lantern hung from a nearby tree, beaming a fitful light on what looked like a tumbledown heap of rocks. Antonia led him into the grotto, empty but for an old stone bench and some dried-up leaves that crackled under their boots.

  Sinking down onto the bench, she tugged off her cap and let the air cool her flushed skin. Her still irate companion remained standing, his scowl indicating a scold was imminent.

  “How many times have you visited this place?” he asked, glancing around.

  “A few,” she hedged.

  “With Richard?”

  She nodded, which seemed to annoy him even more.

  “And what, exactly, did you and Richard do while sojourning in this charming spot?”

  “What do you think we did? We sat on this bench.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Antonia tried not to wince. The first—and last—time she’d ever drunk gin had been here, and she’d promptly gotten sick behind the grotto. That, however, was a much too embarrassing story to share.

  “You don’t have to believe anything. But I’m telling you that nothing happened. Ever,” she added with heavy emphasis.

  “Good, because those sorts of escapades are exactly what leads to monumental trouble for young ladies,” he said.

  She gave a derisive snort. “As if any man would want to dally with me in a dirty old grotto.” Although she rather hoped Roman might give it a try.

  “You’d be surprised.”

  “Yes, I would. And if we’re going to be here for a while, please cease glaring at me, a
nd sit down. I’m getting a crick looking up at you.”

  He muttered a few salty oaths then eased down to the bench, careful to stay as far from her as he could. Obviously, Roman didn’t wish to dally with her, either. Her record for alienating men remained unbroken.

  While he silently fumed beside her, Antonia tried to convince herself it didn’t matter. Finally, she decided they’d waited long enough. “This has been a very exciting evening, Captain Cantrell, but I think it’s now safe to leave. The commotion appears to have died down.”

  His head had been canted toward the entrance of the grotto until her words brought him around to face her. “Good God, do you really think this disaster of an evening was exciting?”

  “Yes, until you ruined it with your grumpy mood.”

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

  Her temper finally broke free. “No, you’re being ridiculous. If you hadn’t come changing across the tent at me, Richard and I would have been able to stay and watch the fight. I’m quite annoyed that you made us miss such an historic event.”

  She jumped up, intending to stalk past him, but his hand whipped out and clamped around her wrist. The next thing Antonia knew, she was sprawled on his lap, gaping up at his handsome, irate features.

  “You want excitement, Miss Barnett?” he said in a tone that made her shiver. “Then I’ll be happy to give it to you.”

  A moment later, his mouth descended to hers in a devastating kiss that swept over her like a raging tide.

  Chapter Five

  * * *

  Antonia Barnett tasted like sunshine, everything wonderful and pure of heart. Roman’s heart was far from pure, and he desired her with a need that swamped rational thought. Unfortunately, the poor girl was all but frozen in his embrace, likely from shock.

  When he started to pull back, Antonia grabbed his cravat and yanked his head down. She deepened the kiss, tasting him with an eagerness that matched his own. When she mashed closer still, their teeth clinked together.

  “Oh, blast,” she muttered when he started to laugh. “That was awkward, wasn’t it?”

  He settled her more securely on his lap, relishing the feel of her curved bottom. Roman wondered if she was wearing smalls under her tight fitting breeches, resisting the urge to explore.

  “You’re doing fine,” he said, nuzzling her kitten-soft cheek. “But there’s no need to rush.”

  Her pretty mouth pursed with doubt. “It is getting rather late, and I’m worried about Richard. I still think we should try to find him.”

  As well, the longer they lingered the greater the chance of discovery, though Roman didn’t care. All he cared about was kissing Antonia again. “Richard can take care of himself.”

  She let out a breathy sigh and melted against him as he kissed along her delicate jawline. “I suppose so. After all, he knows the Gardens as well as I do.”

  Roman paused. “How often do you engage in these little outings?”

  She gave him a cheeky grin. “You don’t want to know. Now, could you please resume what you were doing?”

  “You’re outrageous,” he said before pressing a kiss to her luscious lips.

  “You don’t truly mind though, do you?” she whispered a moment later.

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Then he swooped in to ravish her mouth, their tongues swirling with delicious heat. Antonia plastered herself against him, as if she wanted to reach straight to his heart. Roman wanted to be deep inside her, with a passion that sent fire rocketing through his veins. He cradled her as they indulged in long, luxurious kisses, her body turning soft and pliant in his arms.

  When she shifted against him, pressing down on his surging cock, he could resist temptation no longer. He slipped a hand under her jacket to cup her lovely breast. The nipple, already pulled into a tight point, poked against the linen of her shirt. Roman thumbed it, smiling against her lips when she jolted against him.

  “Too much?”

  She took a moment to answer. “Not enough.”

  When she nipped his lower lip, he went hard as stone. He fumbled with the fall of her breeches, all but ripping the buttons off in his haste. Antonia squirmed impatiently, her fingers tunneling through his hair as she responded with an innocent eagerness that drove him wild.

  When he finally got his hand inside her breeches, she felt like heaven, soft and warm, with silky hair tickling his palm.

  Antonia jerked back to stare at him. Even in the flickering light of the torch outside the grotto, he could see the flush on her cheeks and the startled desire in her gaze. More than anything he’d ever wanted in his life, Roman wanted to rip the clothes from her body and pleasure her until she came apart in his arms.

  And then do it again and again.

  As they gazed at each other, the moment seemed suspended in time. Even dressed like a scruffy boy, Antonia was beautiful—a gift from the fairy realm, sweetly magical. Far too good for a cynical, soul-blackened bastard like him.

  Roman also knew without a doubt that she would be his.

  “All right?” he asked softly.

  Her smile trembled like a butterfly’s wings. “Better than all right.”

  “Excellent. Shut your eyes, love.”

  She obeyed, her eyelids drifting closed as he teased her sex with long, lingering strokes. Antonia shifted restlessly in his lap, soft, excited whimpers falling from her lips. Roman bent and covered her mouth with his, swallowing the delicious sounds.

  Just as he parted her, ready to slip a finger inside her sweet body, incoherent yelling from outside the grotto penetrated his sensual haze. Running footsteps pounded by and then receded back into the night.

  Hell and damnation.

  He’d been so intent on Antonia that any blackguard could have snuck up on them.

  Roman tipped her upright in his lap. “It’s not safe here anymore. We’ve got to go.”

  “Just when things were getting good,” she said with a sigh.

  He set her on her feet and began restoring order to her appearance. “Sorry about that.”

  “I’m sure it’s not more dangerous than it was a few moments ago,” she groused.

  He had to bite back a smile. That she’d been clearly enjoying herself spoke well of their future.

  “Maybe, but there are lawmen everywhere, and one of them is bound to stumble upon us sooner or later. I won’t have you discovered like this.”

  She let out a derisive snort.

  “Besides,” he added, “think of poor Richard. He’s probably frantic with worry.”

  “You don’t give a hang about Richard, but I’m afraid you’re right. If he can’t find me, he’ll do something drastic.”

  “Such as?” He took her hand and stepped cautiously out of the grotto.

  “He’ll probably go to my father. Or to his father, which would be the same thing, because Mr. Keane would fetch Papa. There would be a scene.”

  There was going to be a scene anyway, but Roman would handle it. It was just a matter of figuring out the proper strategy.

  “With luck, we’ll get you home before Richard shows up. Just pull your hat down and don’t talk.”

  “Why can’t I talk?”

  He led her in the direction of the water entrance of the Gardens, where they could hire a boat. “Because, sweetheart, you sound nothing like a man.”

  He caught the flash of her smile. “Are you sure about that?” she asked in a credibly gruff voice.

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “But you like me anyway, don’t you?”

  Doubt lurked underneath the cheery tone. Roman pulled her into the shadows of an oak and swept her into his arms, planting a heated and very thorough kiss on her mouth.

  “Does that answer your question?” he said as he pulled back.

  She had to clear her throat. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good. Now let’s hurry before we run into any more trouble.”

  As luck would have it, they made their wa
y to the water entrance with no further alarms. The crisis had obviously passed. The fight had concluded as well, evidenced by the revelers heading to the dock, excitedly parsing Emperor’s upset victory over King. Roman quickly secured a boat to ferry Antonia and him across the river.

  “That was easy,” she said a few minutes later as he helped her out of the skiff and up the steps leading to the street. “Richard and I usually go round by the road, but I’ll be sure to take a boat to Vauxhall from now on.”

  “You will not,” Roman said as he hailed a hackney. “Unless you’re coming as a proper young lady with a proper escort.”

  “Killjoy,” she muttered.

  He gave the driver the address and climbed in after her. “Do we really need to have a discussion about this?”

  She flapped a hand. “You needn’t worry. I’ve already decided I’m getting too old for this sort of escapade.”

  “You never should have started in the first place.”

  She twisted on the narrow seat to study him. “Does it bother you that much?”

  “Only because you put yourself in harm’s way, love. But that’s not the real question, is it?”

  “I…no, it’s not.”

  “You want to know if I understand why you did it.”

  “You’re very quick,” she said approvingly. “I quite like that about you.”

  “Thank you,” he said dryly. “Antonia, I do understand. It’s not been easy for you, given the rumors you’ve had to contend with since your real father came back into your life.”

  “They’re not rumors.”

  “You’re expected to behave with a great deal of decorum, and are judged even more severely than most young ladies. That sort of burden can be wearisome, so it’s understandable you’d kick over the traces now and again.”

  She rewarded him with a warm smile. “Exactly. No doubt you’ve had to deal with your share of rumors and gossip, too.”

  “It’s different for a man.”

  “Especially the son of a prince.”

  “A fact which has its disadvantages, believe me.”

  Her golden gaze twinkled with mischief. “How sad for you, dear sir.”

  He shook his head. “You can be quite the brat when you put your mind to it.”