by Lauren Smith
Settling back in his coach, he lifted his cane and rapped on the roof, signaling to his driver to return home. Then he set the cane across his lap, staring at the wolf-head handle. It was not his favorite cane, that one had been stolen long ago…by Sheridan. He and Essex had attacked Hugo and stolen the cane as a sort of college prank. The devils. Sheridan had dared to keep it as a trophy, a way of mocking Hugo whenever he had the chance.
“He’ll do as I directed and abduct Sheridan and his bride. He’ll set sail from Brighton, and that’s when we shall have the might of His Majesty’s navy ready to sink the ship.”
Daniel nodded. “And during their valiant effort to sink a known slaver ship, they’ll have killed Sheridan and his wife, not knowing the two were hostage on board.”
“Exactly.” Hugo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Daniel understood the delicate nature of dealing with Samir Al Zahrani. His father, Ramiz, was truly a good man, one who would be horrified to discover his son was conducting such a trade under his very nose. Yet it was Ramiz’s influence with the throne that kept his son safe from any obvious recriminations. Samir couldn’t be brought to trial for his part in the slave trade, a practice Hugo detested on every level.
So why not let the foolish man believe Hugo was on his side, then strike when the man had done Hugo’s dark deeds for him? But if Samir were to die in a tragic accident when his ship was sunk after ignoring orders to stop and present his cargo for inspection…well…that would be a pity. A smile curved his lips.
“Two birds and one stone. Or cannonball, rather,” Daniel added. “What is my next assignment, my lord?”
“Watch Samir and watch Sheridan. Both are hotheaded fools. We need to make sure one does not incite the other to act before the time is right. The kidnapping needs to occur during their honeymoon at Brighton, not before. Sheridan has too many friends protecting him here.”
Daniel nodded, no doubt remembering Hugo’s last two plans unraveling due to this fact.
“I’ll arrange the naval interference. The HMS Ranger should be docking there around the time we need Samir’s vessel to be sunk.”
Lifting his wolf-headed cane again, Hugo rapped the roof twice to stop the coach. It rocked to a halt on Curzon Street…where Sheridan lived. Daniel put his hat back on and slipped out of the vehicle like a wraith in the night.
If only you knew how closely you are being watched. How closely all you rogues are being watched. Inside every house he had a man watching, waiting, feeding him information. When the time was right the men would act, snuffing out any rogues who were left, one by one.
But that was the end game. Now he would enjoy the middle game, his one vice in life in an otherwise unshakeable career of service to his country.
I will avenge you, Peter. They will pay for the night they let you die. They will pay. Then you can rest. And maybe I can as well.
It was a vow carved into his heart, and he would see it through at any cost.
Chapter Nine
Cedric fingered the stack of cards Ashton had abandoned on the table. “You know, Ash, you are not my favorite friend at the moment.”
Ashton chuckled. “You wound me, Cedric.”
Cedric huffed and listened to the sounds of feminine chatter. Emily and Horatia were with Anne, all three ladies whispering by the small fire in the hearth. He could hear the logs pop and snap. While the spring was relatively warm, today had been cooler than most.
“What has Ash done to deserve your displeasure?” Jonathan asked, the newest to their League. His blond hair and green eyes, not to mention the familial resemblance to his older brother Godric, made him nothing short of a young Adonis. He was more reserved when out among the ton at social gatherings than the other members of the League. Having lived most of his life as a servant, he was still unsure of himself when it came to the upper class and trying to act as one of their equals. He hadn’t been aware that he was Godric’s half brother until last September.
“The scoundrel abandoned me at Anne’s house. I had no carriage, no servants, no way to get home.” Cedric reached out in Ashton’s direction. “Let me find your face so I can draw your cork until you bleed.”
Ashton chuckled. His chair creaked as he no doubt wanted to avoid Cedric’s grasp.
“Jonathan, catch him and hold him still so I can get a decent blow to his jaw,” Cedric commanded, but Jonathan merely laughed.
“I wouldn’t dare get in the way of your fists. You might miss him and hit me.”
“So, villain, why did you leave me?” Cedric asked Ashton more seriously.
“Because I thought you and Anne should have some time alone. I hadn’t intended to leave you alone at her house, but when I went down to check on our coach, a runner delivered me a note from one of my business contacts. I assumed Anne would be able to see you home and to Godric’s tonight without issue. Was I right?”
“Of course you were. That’s what I dislike about you. You are always right. But come now, what was this business matter that sent you flying from Anne’s home with such urgency?”
Ashton’s voice darkened. “I’ve been running into stone walls with my usual merchants who buy my shipping services. Today I found out the source of those walls.”
“Was it a business competitor?” Jonathan speculated.
“It is always a business competitor with Ashton,” Lucien cut in as he, Godric and Charles joined them in the evening room and drew up chairs around the lacquered card table.
“Though normally you are not this affected by the tactics of your competitors,” Godric noted thoughtfully.
“Yes, well, that’s because up till now all of my competitors have been men. This latest adversary happens to be a lady,” Ashton declared with a mixture of irritation and exasperation.
“A woman? I should have known!” Charles sniggered like a schoolboy who’d pulled the best prank he’d ever conceived. “Better not be another banker’s daughter. You’re becoming too predictable, old man.”
“Careful, pup!” Ashton’s sharp tone drew the attention of the three ladies, who turned their heads in the direction of the rogues. In response, the rogues dropped their heads and drew in closer to better shield their conversation from the women.
“Who is this most aggravating lady?” Lucien asked. “Do I know her? Have I bedded her?”
“I don’t believe you have, Lucien, which leaves a very short list of possibilities, I know.” Ashton’s tone was heavy with wry amusement. “It is Lady Rosalind Melbourne, the widow of the late Lord Melbourne, a distant cousin to the prime minister.”
“Rosalind Melbourne… I know that name from somewhere.” Godric pondered and then his face lit up. “Rosalind is the sister to those three Scots I tangled with in Edinburgh some years ago.” He laughed heartily and smacked the table. “What a row that was. Broke half the furniture in that alehouse as I recall.”
“Those brutes are Lady Melbourne’s brothers?” Charles’s eyes went wide in astonishment. “One of them actually landed a blow on me, which I’ve not let happen since.”
Cedric cut in. “Hold on, what Scotsmen? I’ve never heard of this.”
Jonathan smacked his knee and chuckled. “That’s probably because they beat my brother to a pulp and their tempers make him look like a bloody angel. What were their names again, Godric?” Jonathan shot a devious grin at his brother.
“Brock, Brodie and Aiden Kincade. Barbarians, the lot of them. I heard their father passed away last year. Left them a castle somewhere up in the Highlands.”
“And what of Rosalind? Is she a barbarian like her brothers?” As always, Lucien focused on the woman in the story. He was a reformed rake, but still a rake.
“Lady Melbourne is…refined to a degree, but she’s also ruthless,” Ashton said. “She’s taking business from me, and I don’t care for it.”
“Finally, there is someone out there to make
Ashton angry. I thought nothing ever affected you,” Cedric said.
“Is she fair?” Jonathan asked.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Ashton admitted. “But she doesn’t seem to use it to her advantage, not that I have seen.”
“Then seduce the woman. She’s a widow, isn’t she? Should be easy,” Lucien suggested. Suddenly something struck Lucien in the back of the head and glanced off Cedric.
“Who threw that pillow?” Lucien demanded, turning around. “Horatia, behave yourself!”
“Why should I when you clearly aren’t?” came her reply down by the fireplace. It was clear she’d been eavesdropping on the entire conversation.
“What was that for?” Godric asked.
Lucien harrumphed before turning back to his friends. “Horatia tends to chuck pillows at me when she’s angry. I figure it could be worse, she could throw vases. So I keep the house well stocked with all sorts of soft projectiles to appease her vigilante needs to strike at me at will.”
“You deserve it, Lucien,” Horatia said over-loudly. “Suggesting seduction like that. How awful!”
“I’m sure I do, darling,” Lucien called back over his shoulder. Another pillow smacked soundly into Jonathan.
“Why the devil did you duck, Lucien?” Jonathan muttered. “You’re the cad, not I. I’m not up to taking a beating from your wife. You know, Cedric, I do believe I like your other sister better. At least she doesn’t throw things whenever she fancies.”
“Ha! Jonathan, you’ve never seen Audrey on days when she can’t find the right bonnet,” said Cedric. “Good God, the little sprite can tear down an entire house trying to find what she’s looking for.” The memory brought a smile to his lips. He missed her terribly. Hopefully she and Lucien’s mother would return from their trip to the Continent soon.
Jonathan tossed the pillow over his shoulder, and it landed on the snoozing foxhound, Penelope. The dog let out a yip of surprise, then sniffed the pillow with suspicion.
Cedric cleared his throat. “Speaking of Audrey, I thought I should have a word with you, Jonathan. I promised her that I would have a husband waiting for her when she returned from her European tour.”
“You, er…mean she wants to marry me?” Jonathan’s voice rose up in the way a man’s voice only could when threatened with marriage.
“She mentioned an interest in you. You do not have to accept, and I intend to have other prospects ready as well. I only want you to consider it if you know you could be a good husband to her.”
“I am flattered, of course…” Jonathan managed. “But I shall have to think on it.”
“No rush. She won’t be back until June.” Cedric wished he could have seen Jonathan’s face. He could almost picture the young man’s terror. Jonathan was as much of a rogue as his brother, but he did not have the same desire to pursue ladies of quality, at least not with any sense of permanence in mind.
“Cedric, permit me a question?” Godric asked in a low tone to prevent being overheard by the ladies.
“Ask away, old boy.”
“Is Anne aware that you marked her during your…private dinner this evening?”
Cedric’s face flushed. Dear God, he hadn’t thought that everyone would see his rough love bites. He no longer thought much about what was visible and what wasn’t.
“Are they that noticeable?” Cedric asked.
“It appears that either she fell on her fork or you had a nice couple of nibbles on her neck.” Lucien’s tone dripped with devious amusement. “Your lack of sight is making you a sloppy seducer, Cedric. I’ve never known you to leave a woman so clearly tumbled.”
“I didn’t tumble her…” At least not fully, he silently amended.
“So she did fall on her fork then?” Lucien supplied.
Cedric groaned, slapping his palm over his forehead in resignation.
“If she doesn’t notice the marks, then I’m sure Emily and Horatia won’t mention it,” Godric attempted to reassure him. “Well, probably.”
Ashton returned to a safer topic. “So things are going well between you?”
Cedric hesitated, too ashamed to admit how off balance he felt around his future wife. Seduction had never been a problem before. Now, though, he questioned his every move and wondered if he was moving things too fast or not fast enough.
“I am not sure if marriage is what she wants. I desire it, as foolish as that sounds, but she tries to keep her distance, as though she fears I’ll wound her.” Cedric let out his breath in a long sigh. “I cannot see how. I’m only capable of hurting myself these days.”
“She may fear a wound of the heart, rather than that of the body,” Godric suggested. “Emily fought me off in part because she believed that if she fell in love, I would eventually cease to want her and would move on to the next challenge. With any other woman I might have, but not Emily.”
“A wound of the heart?” Cedric repeated curiously. “I suppose that would explain her guarded exterior. Is there no way I can convince her that I would not throw her over for another woman? I mean, I’ve had my fun as a rake, but my life has changed, and marriage is a serious business. I would not enter into that particular contract so lightly with just anyone.”
“We know that, Cedric, but Anne does not. You must find a way to prove yourself. With women, actions speak loudest,” Ashton advised. “A thousand delightful promises won’t matter against one that she wished you’d kept and failed to. Do not assure her with words, show her that she is yours and you are hers and that no one shall come between you.”
Cedric rested his hands on the lacquered table, feeling the cool surface beneath his fingers. “How on earth am I supposed to do that?”
“That is what you will have to figure out for yourself.”
“You know, Ashton, one of these days a woman will so completely tie you up in emotional and physical knots that you’ll be begging for my advice and I will gloatingly tell you to figure it out for yourself,” Cedric said with a dark chuckle.
“Don’t be silly, Ashton is far too composed and rational to fall prey to feminine wiles,” Lucien teased.
Ashton cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Of course. No woman will ever get the upper hand with me.”
Cedric chuckled. “Now you’ve doomed yourself.”
Anne was listening to Emily and Horatia share various wedding stories to amuse her.
“Godric was so nervous he told me he ruined three neck cloths on the way to the church. His valet almost wept.” Emily shot a glance in her husband’s direction and blushed when she saw him gazing back. Godric’s face was a picture of love and devotion and it warmed her deep inside to see it.
“Lucien had to endure an hour-long lecture from his mother before she would even let him go into the church. Apparently she had wanted her firstborn child’s marriage to be normal. Instead, he was marrying me within a week of nearly dying from a duel. She was most upset she couldn’t have a normal wedding ceremony. When Lucien finally got inside, Charles told me that Lucien was ready to fall on his knees and beg my eternal forgiveness. He didn’t need it, of course, but I did so love to tease him about it after the wedding.” Horatia clutched a pillow in her lap, an extra weapon to throw should Lucien voice his rakish advice too loudly again. Someone had to keep the reformed man in line.
“Have either of you met this Rosalind Melbourne?” Emily asked. Horatia shook her head but Anne nodded.
“She is Lord Melbourne’s widow. I hear she is quite the businesswoman, but she tends to avoid most social events. She is Scottish and doesn’t always feel welcome in London circles, I think. Which is a pity. She is a lovely woman, and quite friendly.”
Emily straightened in her seat. “You have met her personally, Anne? Could you arrange for me to meet her?”
“I suppose. Why the sudden interest in Lady Melbourne?”
Emily smil
ed. “I’ve never seen Ashton’s feathers ruffled before. And a woman capable of doing that to a man like him intrigues me. Ashton certainly needs his feathers ruffled.”
“I could certainly agree with that. Even when he was wounded from that gunshot, he maintained a disturbing level of civility while your husband tried to stem the flow of his blood. Lord Lennox’s self-control is unnatural.”
“So you will introduce me to this Lady Melbourne?” Emily was almost vibrating with energy.
“Of course. I believe she likes to attend the opera. We could arrange for all of us to go and I will introduce you if she is there.”
“Oh, I do love the opera.” Horatia smiled, her warm eyes so much like her brother’s, lit with joy at the prospect of an evening of musical delight.
“Lady Rochester,” Anne began.
“Anne, please call me Horatia. We are to be sisters soon. I want no titles to stand between us.”
Anne shyly corrected herself. “Horatia.”
As an only child, she’d never known the joy of having siblings. To be openly claimed by Cedric’s family now that her father was gone strangely made her want to weep. “Does your brother enjoy the opera as well?”
Anne knew so little of Cedric. Truly knew him, that is. She knew his mannerisms, his way of charming those around him, and what was officially recorded about him. She’d made it the purpose of her first season out to know him, but as a man he was still a mystery. What color did he favor, what was his favorite dinner dish? Did he enjoy the opera? There was much that she wished to know, and her eagerness for this surprised her.
“Cedric isn’t much interested in the arts, but opera seems to be the one exception. He rents a box in Covent Garden,” Horatia said. “He hasn’t gone since…” Her voice trailed off; there was no need to finish her sentence. “But I think he should go. Opera is more about music than the scenes and actors.”
“That is true,” Emily agreed. “It is settled then. We must convince Cedric to attend the opera. You must ask him, Anne.”
“Me? Why me?”
