by Lydia Dare
“Does it matter to you, Livi?”
She raised her nose into the air ever so slightly. “I’m still trying to determine my feelings on the matter.” She sniffed. “Do whatever you feel led to do tonight. I’m certain my brothers will inform me of everything that takes place in the morning. If you’re home by morning, that is.” She avoided his gaze.
“Liviana Mayeux, if I didn’t know you better, I might think that you were jealous.”
She shot him a glance as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “You have been wrong before, I’m certain.” Then she crossed the room and tugged her oldest brother to the side. She whispered vehemently in his ear. So vehemently that Gray couldn’t make out a word of it. Damn her eyes. Armand looked up and grinned. “Why certainly, bébé sister,” he crowed. “We’ll take care of it for you.”
Gray highly doubted that the Mayeux brothers would be doing much caretaking. But he would give his eyeteeth to know what Livi had just asked of Armand.
Twenty-One
As soon as Gray stepped inside the taproom, the tavern wench met his eyes and then giggled to herself. Bloody perfect. Wes would pick the very same taproom where Gray had numbed his senses earlier that week alongside Nathaniel Hayburn. And the woman did appear to recognize him. “Perhaps we should go to another tavern,” Gray grumbled.
But it was too late to leave as the wench gestured the four Lycans farther into the establishment. “Mr. Hadley,” she said in a singsong voice, “how nice to see you again.”
“You know her?” Wes mumbled in Gray’s ear.
“I had a few tankards this week,” Gray replied. More than a few, but he thought the better of mentioning so at the moment.
“More ale, sir?” The girl crossed the room to greet the foursome.
“Thank you,” Gray nodded. “A round for my brothers too. We’ll try to stay out of your way.”
“We’re not your brothers yet.” Etienne Mayeux tossed over his shoulder as he sauntered toward a table on the far side of the room.
Armand’s gaze trailed up and down the tavern wench’s slender body, finally stopping at her bodice. “I don’t suppose you have any rum, mademoiselle?”
“Rum?” She batted her eyelashes as she shook her head. “We’ve got gin, whiskey, and ale.”
“Then a round of ale it is.” The American tipped his head in thanks before heading toward the table his brother had already claimed.
“What do you think Miss Mayeux whispered to them before we left?” Wes muttered under his breath.
Gray would give his left arm to find out. “I haven’t a clue.” He glanced back across the taproom to find the brothers Mayeux with their heads tipped together as though they were Cassius and Brutus right before they turned Caesar into a sieve. “But I’m not happy about it, whatever it is.”
“Well, I suppose we’ll eventually find out, won’t we?” Wes clapped a hand to Gray’s back. “Come on, we’d best go take our seats before they conspire to bury your body somewhere along the River Avon.”
“And here I thought they’d just converge on me in the senate with their daggers drawn.”
Wes chuckled. “I would hardly think of you as Julius Caesar. That role is more befitting of Dash, don’t you think?”
“Oh? Well, who am I, then?” Gray grumbled.
Wes frowned for a moment in thought. “Falstaff, perhaps.”
Falstaff? That bumbling idiot? What a thing to say. Gray glared at his brother. “I shall remind you that we’re twins.”
Wes’ smile returned. “I am joking, of course.” He gestured once again to the Mayeux brothers. “Should I have said Hamlet instead? As you are most certainly procrastinating against the inevitable.”
At least the Danish prince was more regal than blasted Falstaff. Damn Wes straight to hell for needling him when he wasn’t in the mood. Gray heaved a sigh. “I’m not procrastinating. I just don’t know what to do. They’re Livi’s brothers, for God’s sake.”
Wes snorted. “Maddie has brothers too. And they’d been my friends before…”
Before Wes had abducted their sister and dashed for the border. “What should I say to them? How can I make them understand?”
Wes shrugged. “I’d probably have some clue if we had a sister.”
Really, for being Gray’s twin and best friend, Wes wasn’t any help at all. “Why am I asking you anyway? You gave Madeline back to her brothers.” Which was the exact opposite of what Gray wanted to do.
Wes’ mouth fell open and his dark eyes narrowed. “I did what I thought was best for her at the time. You should ask yourself what’s best for Liviana.”
“I’m what’s best for her,” Gray said and stood taller as he did so.
“Then go over there and tell them that.”
Gray would do that very thing. Armand and Etienne Mayeux were Livi’s brothers, but he was going to be her husband… Unless they stole her away from him in the dead of night. Gray’s hands became clammy and his breath hitched at the thought.
“I’ve never seen you so…”
“If you say like Falstaff, I will pummel you into the ground.”
Wes chuckled and gestured to the Mayeuxes’ table with a sweep of his arm. “Go on, Mark Antony, conquer your foes until they surrender at your feet. Is that better?”
“Somewhat,” Gray growled. Then he tipped his head back and started for the table where his would-be brothers-in-law held court. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said to the pair. “My brother and I haven’t seen each other for quite some time.”
“I am newly married,” Wes announced as he dropped into a seat across from the Mayeuxes.
“And here we thought you might be plotting.” Etienne grinned, though his eyes held no warmth.
“No reason for plotting.” Gray took his own seat beside his brother and leaned back in his chair, hoping a casual air would put the Americans more at ease. “Just a bit of family business.”
At that moment, the tavern wench arrived at their table with a tray heavy laden with tankards. “Here you are, gentlemen.” But her foot caught the edge of Gray’s chair and she stumbled forward, landing in his lap. Wes snatched the tray of four drinks from her hands just as they began to tip. A small amount tipped onto the floor before Wes righted the tray. Thank heavens his brother was there to support him. Or he would have gone home smelling like a brewery.
“Oh, Mr. Hadley!” She tried to scramble from his lap, but the ale that had splashed to the floor sent her falling right back into Gray’s arms.
“Here.” Wes bolted to his feet. “Let me help you, miss.” He lifted her from Gray’s lap and placed her squarely in the middle of a dry patch of wooden floor. “There, now. No harm done.”
“I say.” Etienne leaned forward in his seat. “How well do you know the little serving maid?”
Gray gaped at Livi’s brother. Surely he wasn’t suggesting something improper. Gray was the one, after all, who’d caught her in his lap when there was nowhere else for her to go. Chivalry was dead, apparently. “I don’t even know her name.”
“But she seems to know yours.” Etienne’s eyes flashed back to the tavern wench. “Do you imbibe a lot, Mr. Hadley?”
“Do I imbibe…?” Gray echoed, barely believing his ears, “As much as any other man.”
“But not just any other man is dead set to marry our sister,” Armand added. “We need to be certain that Livi’s future is safe with you.”
Gray rose from his seat and began to tug at his clothing to set them to rights. “Livi will be perfectly safe with me. She’ll never want for anything.”
“Except maybe for her home and her family,” Etienne put in. “No, Mr. Hadley. I’m afraid we’ll need more than just your word that Livi will be safe with you and that she’ll want for nothing. We’ll need proof.”
“Proof?” Gray growled. What sort of proof? What the devil did they want from him?
“Have you the income to support her, Mr. Hadley?” Armand asked as he handed Gray one of
the drinks. He took another and raised it to his lips, regarding Gray over the rim with a skeptical glare.
Gray couldn’t tell them that he was the half brother of a powerful marquess, since he couldn’t publicly claim Dash as a sibling, and he didn’t have much else to recommend him, aside from the allowance Dash afforded him and the new business venture he, Wes, and Archer had just began. “I have enough,” he grunted instead.
Etienne raised a hand to his cup his ear. “What did you say, Hadley?” he taunted. “Didn’t quite hear you.”
Gray leaned closer to him and mouthed plainly. “Your sister will never want for anything.” He’d said it earlier, but they obviously hadn’t heard him.
Wes interjected, “We actually have a thriving business we just embarked upon. It’s doing quite well.”
Or would be once they got the place up and running. Thank God Wes hadn’t mentioned that last part.
Armand leaned forward, resting his chin on his elbow. “Pray tell,” he said with a most irritating glitter in his eyes.
Before Gray could expound on their not-yet-established business venture, Etienne tilted his head toward Wes and touched a finger to his own cheek. “Associate with vampyres much?”
Wes lifted his hand to his scarred cheek. “An unfortunate encounter a few years ago.”
Etienne shook his head. “Evil creatures. I wouldn’t want Livi around something so dangerous.”
“How often do you encounter vampyres?” Armand’s brow furrowed.
Damn it to hell. Gray raked a hand through his hair. He’d never had such intense scrutiny of his life or his brother’s life. And how Wes received his scar was none of Armand or Etienne Mayeux’s concern. “We don’t associate with their kind. As Wes said, it was an unfortunate encounter. One encounter. I don’t believe either of us has seen one since.”
A cough over Gray’s left shoulder drew his attention. He turned quickly to find the Marquess of Lavendon standing at his elbow, an eyebrow arched in Wes’ direction. “Left my sister to carouse with this degenerate, did you?”
Gray sputtered. Damn Lavendon to the fieriest depths of Hell. That was the very last thing he needed Livi’s brothers to overhear. Especially as they seemed to be doing their very best imitation of the Spanish Inquisition.
Then Lavendon’s laugh boomed off the tavern walls. The marquess clapped Gray on his shoulder. “I jest, of course. So good to see you upright, Hadley.” He leaned down and said in a conspiratorial manner that was more than a whisper, “That wench you had last week is asking about you.” He nodded in the direction of the bar.
Gray hadn’t had a wench last week. He glanced over in the direction of the marquess’ nod. “I believe you mean the wench you had last week, don’t you, Lavendon?”
The marquess shrugged. Then he grinned, a most irritating smile if Gray had ever seen one. “Had her last night too,” he remarked. “Do you care if I join you?”
He didn’t wait for an answer; he simply beckoned for an additional chair and lowered himself into it with a moan. “Lavendon, meet Miss Mayeux’s brothers from America. How fortunate that Armand and Etienne have arrived in time for the wedding tomorrow,” Gray said by way of introduction.
The brothers looked none too pleased, but they both greeted the man with a nod.
Lavendon’s grin widened. “Got caught in the parson’s mousetrap, did you?”
“Some men,” Wes began, “quite enjoy matrimony. I’m sure Gray will be as happy with Miss Mayeux as I am with Maddie.”
The marquess shrugged as though the topic suddenly bored him.
Etienne called for another tankard of ale. “Hadley was just telling us about his business venture,” he said.
Gray hadn’t been. But it would be rude to correct them.
“Oh, the gaming hell.” Lavendon stopped to take a long draw of his ale, and the Mayeux brothers looked at one another with skeptical glances. “The jackanapes won’t let me invest even though I’m family. Can you believe that?”
Armand pushed back from the table, gaping at Gray. “You plan to support our sister by operating a gaming hell?”
“It’s not just any gaming hell. It’s an upscale gaming hell.”
Etienne held up one finger. “I’ve a good mind to drag Livi to the first ship headed west this evening.”
Let him try.
Thank God, Weston was there. He pulled a shilling from his pocket and lined his glass up on the table. “I propose a little game, gentlemen,” he said. He winked at Gray. Things never went well when Wes had that look in his eye. But whatever he had in mind couldn’t be worse than Gray pummeling his brothers-in-law-to-be into the ground at the very thought of them absconding with his fiancée.
“Be careful with him.” Lavendon gestured to Wes with a cock of his head. “No one ever beats Weston Hadley.”
“Is that so?” Etienne asked as he narrowed his eyes on Gray and Wes collectively.
“We Mayeuxes are known for our luck as well.” Armand leaned forward in his seat.
“I’d wager you won’t beat Weston Hadley at his game. No one does. Learned that the hard way.”
“We’ll see about that,” Armand replied quietly, a challenge most evident in his voice.
“Indeed. Tell us more about this game of yours,” Etienne said as he dropped back into his chair. “I’d wager we Mayeuxes are more than a match for the pair of you.”
Twenty-Two
Livi paced back and forth in front of the doorway as she nibbled a fingernail. She stopped to look out the window, searching the darkness for any sign of her brothers or Gray. They had been gone all day with no indication that they might ever return except for Gray’s promise of “tonight.” Tonight, apparently, was a relative term.
Sophie sighed heavily and sat her needlepoint to the side. “It’s late. We should go to bed, Livi,” she said. “At this point, when they do return home, they won’t be fit for company.”
“What if they’re injured?” Livi glared at her friend. She couldn’t help but think the worst. After all, she knew her brothers better than Gray did, and they hadn’t been terribly happy with him when they’d left that morning. That morning! Good heavens, how many hours had it been?
“Your pacing at the window is not going to keep any of them from being injured,” Sophie admonished.
“But what if they’ve done something to him?” Livi’s fingernails would be a mess by the time her brothers and Gray finally came home.
“What on earth do you think they’re going to do to him?” Sophie crossed her hands primly in her lap.
That was the question, wasn’t it? But Livi didn’t want to conjure up every last horrible thing her brothers might do. “How can you remain calm at a time like this?” Livi asked. Sophie sat there, so prim and proper, while Livi felt like her insides were being ripped out each moment that ticked by. “You don’t know my brothers. They are wily beasts who have a penchant for trouble.” Especially when they didn’t like someone. And they didn’t like Gray, not even a little.
“You don’t know the Hadley brothers well, Livi. They are of the same ilk, those twins. When the two of them are together, they’re a force to be reckoned with. I’m not afraid for them at all. But your brothers…” Her eyes narrowed at Livi. “Are you more worried about Grayson or your brothers?”
“Both,” Livi muttered. She didn’t know who to be more worried about. Her brothers could do a lot of damage when they set their minds to it. But Gray did have his twin with him.
Suddenly, the jingle of tack in the drive drew her attention. She raced to the window and peered out into the darkness. She saw two forms stumble from the carriage, but she couldn’t tell if they were her brothers or Grayson and Weston Hadley. Then the two men reached into the carriage and hefted two lumps over their shoulders. “Oh, dear!” Livi cried.
“What is it?” Sophie asked, peering out into the dark street as well.
“They’re home,” was all Livi could croak.
“Good. Then you’ll
finally be able to get some rest.” Sophie reached her hand out to Livi. “Come along, dear. Let’s go to bed before they see us hovering like old maids. Let’s not give them that satisfaction.”
Instead of complying, Livi rushed past Sophie into the corridor toward the front door and pulled it open. She stepped to the side as the men entered the house without slowing their gait. She couldn’t see their faces, as it was still too dark to tell who was being carried and who was doing the carrying, but there were definitely full-grown men thrown over their shoulders.
The overwhelming scent of cheap perfume hit her before they even turned around. Rage crept up within Livi as she crossed her arms in front of her and gritted her teeth. They’d been out whoring, and now at least two of them were so foxed they couldn’t walk, and the other two could barely do the same.
“Etienne? Armand?” Livi demanded.
One man turned, the feet belonging to the person thrown over his back knocking into her shoulder. She stumbled, and strong hands reached for her. “Beg your pardon, Livi,” Grayson Hadley said. “Didn’t mean to knock you over, love.”
She tapped her foot on the hardwood floor. “Just what did you intend to do?” she asked.
He stood very still for a moment as though he had no idea what he was supposed to do next. He scratched his head with the hand that wasn’t holding the back of Etienne’s knees.
Weston Hadley nudged his shoulder hard enough to knock him off balance. “You were going to put the sack of lard to bed,” he said with an intoxicated chuckle.
“Oh, that’s right.” Grayson laughed along with his twin. It was a silly sound, and it made Livi want to roll her eyes at him.
“What did you do to my brothers?”
Armand’s voice emanated from Weston’s back. He tried to lift his head as he talked, but it must have been too difficult. “He dinna do nuffin’, Liv,” he slurred. “We played some cards. And we had a jolly good time.” He patted Weston on the bottom. “He’s a good sort, Liv.”
“If you touch my arse one more time…” Weston warned.
