Mad for Love: Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 2

by Lynne Connolly

With a speed that shocked her, he sprang off her. As she passed a shaking hand over her mouth, he stood over her, a shadow against the bright spring day. He was unkempt, dirty, like she’d never seen or imagined him, and he had a beard.

  This was a dream, so why was it perfect, just as she imagined it?

  Perhaps if she closed her eyes and opened them again—no, that didn’t work. He watched her as she gazed at him, trying to understand what this was about—and how did she know she was dreaming?

  “I called you,” he said. “Here you are. Aurelia, I’m raving mad, but I found a corner of sanity before they give me more drugged food and drink that I have to take. It’s either that or starve. I need wine. I’m five or six days’ journey from you. I can’t remember sea, so I’m still in Britain.” A click sounded in the enclosed space when he clenched his teeth. “Everything is green and I can’t find my way out of here.”

  “You’re in a maze?” Sitting up, she stared around. High hedges surrounded them, the growth so close it couldn’t be penetrated by eye or by force. It was impossible to climb too. Had he tried? “Have you been here all along?”

  “What?” Blinking, he tilted his head on one side and gave her a cautious grin. “I’d get out of here if I were you. How did you get here?” Abruptly he swooped down and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Tell me! And did that bitch send you? Was Lyndhurst right, were you working with her all along?” He shook her with a fierce insistence that rattled her teeth and wildness entered his eyes.

  “No, no, I swear it. This isn’t me, I’m not here, and you’re not like this! It’s a dream, it’s a dream!”

  But she knew where he was when she woke up.

  Six months ago, if anyone had told Aurelia that a Season in London would become tedious, she’d have laughed them to scorn. But that was exactly how the last week and the next day felt to her. She’d been asked to some of the most exclusive gatherings in the city, and yet she didn’t want to be there. Gossip and beautiful clothes meant nothing to her anymore.

  But she coped with the Venetian breakfast, shopping and a walk in the Park at the fashionable hour, before she had to dress for her engagement at the theatre. She didn’t even appear to wilt when someone asked her, “Have you seen Lord Stretton recently? I almost thought you would make a match of it with him.”

  The lady’s green eyes narrowed in speculation when she smiled.

  Aurelia gave an insouciant shrug. “I have no idea. Of course I knew he was leaving town for a while, but what business is it of mine where he goes? I enjoyed his company, but I never took him too seriously.”

  “No, my dear. His reputation precedes him with a definite tang of the forbidden. Maybe that’s what makes him so irresistible.” Her tormentor flicked out her fan.

  Aurelia managed a bored, “As you say,” before she glided away.

  Now, outside Drury Lane, she felt nervous. Her mother was in her element, confidently entering the foyer and heading for the stairs that led the way to the boxes. Their footman saw to the details, had their names checked by the man standing by the stairs and then they went upstairs to meet Lyndhurst.

  “He’s becoming very particular in his attentions,” her mother murmured gleefully. “I wonder who else he’s invited this evening.”

  A carefully chosen group of people, as it turned out. Two of the dowager duchess’s friends, together with their children, one young man, one woman, who were known to be attracted to each other. People to keep the dowager occupied.

  Lyndhurst stood as they entered the box and seated them, the dowager with her bosom-bows, and Aurelia next to himself. They exchanged polite conversation intermittently for the first part of an unengrossing play, then Lyndhurst politely invited Aurelia to stroll along the area outside for some private conversation. Her mother barely turned around to tell her to take care before she returned to her friends.

  “A clever ruse,” she said to him as they left.

  “Why thank you.” He gave her a wry smile. “I’m overwhelmed.” He guided her to the side of the hallway. She laid her hand on his arm, and they walked. “Have you heard any news?”

  “Y-yes. In a way. You’ll think it strange, but I had a dream.” Now the time came to explain she was hesitant, apologetic. “Last night. I saw him. He said he was stark mad. Raving.”

  Immediately he gave her his attention. “Mad, you say? Did he tell you why?”

  “Why?” In her admittedly limited experience, she didn’t think madmen explained why they were insane.

  “Why he went mad.” Lyndhurst made a sound of exasperation low in his throat. “Never mind. Tell me more.”

  “Well, he was unkempt. Severely.” She’d tried not to wrinkle her nose at the odour he’d emanated. She must be in love—she’d even forgiven him that. “And he said he’d been there for five or six days. They were drugging his food. He hadn’t been taken on a ship.” She frowned. “I know where he was.”

  “Where?” He stopped walking, turned and faced her. “Where is he?”

  “In the maze on my brother’s Scottish estate.” Shaking her head, she spread her free hand apologetically. “I’m so sorry. Of course I’d imagine him there. My mind tells me he’s lost, so I think of the impenetrable place. Very few people know the key.”

  “Do you?”

  She tilted her chin. “Of course I do. My brother and I worked it out. It’s not an easy one. Or rather, we know how to get in and out without losing ourselves.” Halting her words abruptly, she opened her eyes wider. “You believe me? But it was a dream!”

  His eyes burned into her as if she held every secret. “God, I should have trapped her and questioned her until she told me. But I suspected I didn’t know everything. Stretton and d’Argento have a gift I haven’t yet mastered, otherwise I’d have done just that. I’ll set out tomorrow. But if he’s mad, did he do it for himself, or had it imposed on him? Did he say anything else?” He spoke swiftly, urgently, so she found it difficult to keep up with him.

  “Bring wine,” she said with a weak smile. “He drinks too much.”

  “In this instance, not enough.”

  “I beg your pardon, sir, but I have thought that he consumes too much at times.”

  “I’ll explain. No, he’ll explain. Can you give me the key to the maze?”

  She shook her head. “I know it when I’m there. It changes—Mama orders them to keep the maze fresh for new challengers. When we have house parties, she puts prizes in the centre. I suspect I wouldn’t know the new key, but I can guess it. I know how she works. Even the cleverest people have certain ways of thinking.”

  For the first time in days, Lyndhurst’s mouth curved in a genuine smile. “Tell me, Lady Aurelia, do you love Stretton—Blaize—truly?” Eagerly she nodded. “Would you marry him whatever happened?” Another nod. “And he’ll want me to bring you. I can’t very well hare off in search of him and leave you with that—that witch.” He said the last word as if he really meant it. “She’ll use you as a bargaining counter or she’ll throw you at someone else. Lady Aurelia, I think we should elope. Tomorrow.”

  All she could do was gape at him. “What? Us?”

  “Us,” he repeated firmly.

  “But why on earth would I do that when I’m not in love with you? Eloping is for errant lovers!”

  “Who knows that but us?” Glancing around, he seized her arm in a most unlover-like fashion and started to walk again. “Oh, for a private room, but they’re in great demand tonight. I couldn’t get one for any price.” Nodding to a young woman and her chaperone, who Aurelia only vaguely remembered, he walked on briskly.

  “I’m not a soldier,” she reminded him with dignity.

  “I know,” he said, but he relented and slowed his pace. “I need you to get us in and out of the damned maze. I also need to keep you safe.”

  An incredulous laugh rocked her. “From my mother?”

  “Exactly. From your mother. She’ll stop at nothing. You’re as expendable as anyone else.”

 
; Alarm shot through her. “You aren’t serious, are you?”

  “Yes, I am.” His firm mouth straightened, and lines of strain appeared at the corners. “But think of it in this way—I believe you. I believe Stretton was abducted and hidden in the maze.” He paused and smiled at her as a couple passed them close enough to overhear what they were saying. “He will need you. I will need him to recover as soon as he can. I have no experience with his condition. Do you?”

  “What condition?”

  The corridor was almost deserted now. The performance must have started. Outside their box, he turned and spoke to her directly. “What has he told you? What has your mother told you?”

  Gazing into his eyes, Aurelia knew he wasn’t telling her everything. That he was deliberately holding back. “Tell me the truth, and I’ll come with you.” She’d never taken such a risk before in all her life. If he made good, she’d have to do it.

  “I want to go to Scotland and rescue him. We need him, badly, and your mother must know that.” Speaking quietly and rapidly, his sincere expression convinced her that in this, at least, he was telling the truth. As far as it went, that was. “You need him. If you’re wrong, and he’s not there, we will marry because you’ll be ruined. However, you have my word I won’t lay one finger on you while we’re travelling. Unfortunately, society will not believe that.”

  “My mother can…” Her head swam with unasked questions, a lack of understanding. “Why would she abduct him?”

  “Ask me tomorrow. Are you coming or not?”

  “Yes.”

  There, it was out. She was going. He wouldn’t say any more except, “Be ready tomorrow at ten. No, make it nine. Pack as little as you can. Can you get out of the house without anyone noticing?”

  She almost laughed. “Are you joking? With three maids sleeping in the kitchen and the hall boy on duty all night? The only way I’ll get out of the house will be with my mother’s acceptance.”

  “Come to Ranelagh tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll be there. My mother will be thrilled, you’re right. She’s been trying to push me at you forever.” The dowager was terribly keen to get her daughter married off to Lyndhurst. A suspicion crossed her mind. “Is this a trap? Do you want me to marry you and this is a way of carrying me off? Because I won’t.”

  “You will if we don’t find Stretton,” he said grimly. “Otherwise, you can go to the devil. Oh, we’ll make something of it, but I will not be ostracized from society and I won’t see it happening to you.”

  “If we find Blaize?”

  “Then you marry him.”

  It sounded so simple.

  Not as simple when she stood outside a side-entrance at Ranelagh Pleasure Gardens, portmanteau in hand. She’d told the butler who stood in the hall with his nose in the air that it contained the hat she was returning to the shop. She wore a highly impractical gown, which she aimed to replace as soon as possible with something bought at the first way-station. Actually, she had one practical gown on underneath. Heated to the point of bursting, she’d thought it a good idea at the time. Unable to carry anything else, she’d worn two pockets and stuffed them as much as she dared, so at least she had a clean shift and stockings.

  A coach stood in the line of fancy town-carriages, its horses snorting and stamping. Fresh and ready to travel. The lamps hanging outside the vehicle were lit, the ones inside also.

  Aurelia didn’t move until she saw a familiar figure alighting from the coach. Then she started toward him. “Subtle, aren’t we?” she said as she accepted his hand to climb up. Of necessity, travelling carriages were higher off the ground than most town carriages, the roads not being as smooth. And this was a sturdy, if comfortable coach, as she discovered when she settled on one of the leather-clad seats.

  He sat opposite her. Wearing garments much more suited for travelling, a sensible bottle-green coat and cloak, he favoured her with a slight smile. “Good evening, my darling bride. I’ve taken the liberty of providing necessaries like tooth powder, brushes and nightwear for you. I see you came prepared.”

  The coach jolted into action, throwing Aurelia to one side. “I could hardly go to Ranelagh wearing a riding habit, could I?”

  “I have one of those for you too. I know many ladies prefer to travel in riding gear, even if horses make them ill.”

  Unable to bear her clothes a minute longer, Aurelia began to work at the pearl-headed pins holding her bodice to the stomacher at the front. “Exactly.” At least she’d managed to don a small hoop, claiming it was the latest fashion. Sitting in a travelling carriage all the way to Scotland in one of the outlandish wide hoops favoured by the exceptionally fashionable didn’t bear considering. So she hadn’t.

  “What are you doing?” he said frigidly. “When I imagined my wedding night, I never thought it would take place in a coach with a woman so keen to get undressed she can’t even look at me.”

  “Stop being so foolish and hold these.” When he held out his hand, she plunked a bunch of pins into it. “Take care of them. I might need them.” Having loosened her gown, she freed her pretty brocade stomacher and unceremoniously threw it aside. Turning, she presented her back to him. “Pull.”

  At least he knew what to do with a gown. He tugged it off her shoulders and down her arms. Then she could shake it off. “See?” Turning, she presented him with her dark-blue day gown. “I couldn’t travel in cherry-red stripes, could I?”

  He blinked. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  “I didn’t know if you’d have the sense to bring something for me, so I brought my own.” She could remove her fancy petticoat now. This she turned inside out to keep it clean and folded carefully. Now she could move more freely. She laid the garment aside and reached for the gown. Twenty yards, someone had told her, but she couldn’t see that. More like ten. It felt like thirty when she folded it, and in the end she gave up and bundled it into as small a parcel as she could manage, which was not very small at all.

  “Are we travelling through the night?”

  “No. It’s a new moon and overcast. I don’t want to risk it. We’ll get over Hampstead Heath and then stop at the first inn.”

  She stared at him in alarm. “Won’t Mama send someone after us?”

  “Not after she reads my note.”

  “What?” Bouncing upright, she glared. “You left her a note?”

  “I take it you did not?”

  “No.” She had thought of it, but didn’t know what to say. Fond of order and not a little circumstance to important family actions, her mother would most likely drag them back, even if she knew it was Lyndhurst she was running away with and not Blaize.

  “I informed her that I had the honour to escort you to your home on the occasion of your great-aunt falling gravely ill.” When she stifled a laugh, he gave her a stern stare worthy of the strictest governess. “How heartless to find your great-aunt Frederica’s illness so amusing!”

  “I have no great-aunt of that name, sir.”

  “I’m sure your mother will let it be known that you have a plethora of them.”

  For the first time in days, she smiled properly. He did have a sense of humour, after all. “Isn’t a group of great-aunts properly known as a bevy?”

  “I bow to your superior knowledge.” Reaching to one side, he picked up a blanket, shook it out and leaned forward to tuck it around her. “It will get chilly in the next few hours. The weather’s on the turn. We must hope that it won’t rain too much and clog the roads. May is such a changeable month, is it not?”

  Leaning back, he calmly told her of his preparations for the journey. “We’re joining two other coaches for the journey across the Heath. Travelling in a well-appointed, well-lit coach after dark alone is like shouting, ‘Come and get me!’ to every highwayman north of London. Do you have them in Scotland?” he concluded with a dry smile.

  “They’re everywhere, aren’t they?” The romantic stories of dashing highwaymen had never convinced Aurelia. She’
d seen one, when she’d been in Edinburgh on a hanging-day, and he didn’t look dashing or romantic to her. Dirty and sulky, with a week’s beard growth and grimy face and hands was more like it. He was underfed too.

  “All over the place,” he agreed, straight-faced.

  This time they shared the grin. God help her, she was beginning to like him. Before, he’d appeared as a dashing soldier, then a haughty, handsome aristocrat. But now he was revealing himself as a man, with no trappings. Perhaps the journey might not be as fraught as she had imagined.

  To her relief, they crossed the expanse of Hampstead Heath without incident. Two coaches stood waiting at the end of a row of houses, and when they arrived they started into action. No words exchanged, as if this was a normal occurrence, they crossed the heath as fast as they dared, which, since night had fallen completely by now, was very fast, and then drove to the first inn. Which they found full. The second was ten miles further on, but Lyndhurst decided to press on, a decision Aurelia was glad of. They reached the Coach and Horses at one in the morning, and she was hardly conscious of Lyndhurst explaining that his sister’s maid had fallen ill.

  “I’ll manage by myself,” she said, “if the bags can be brought up.”

  She fell on the clean white night rail in the portmanteau delivered to her room, and after scrabbling for a washcloth, toothbrush and comb, made herself comfortable and tumbled into bed. True, the mattress was a little lumpy, but she could have slept on a cobbled street. Worrying herself into a tangle of nerves had also exhausted her, and now they were doing something at last, that part of her could let go. She slept better than she had for a week.

  A soft knock on the bedroom door woke her. Although it was barely six in the morning, the sun was up and they could be on their way. A few hours’ sleep was enough to fill the reservoir she’d built up in the last week, but after scrambling into the modest riding habit Lyndhurst had provided for her, she stuffed the few things she’d unpacked into the portmanteau and went down for breakfast. Barely half an hour later, they were in the coach and she’d fallen into a fitful slumber.