Scoundrel Ever After (Secrets and Scandals)

by Darcy Burke

  Nothing he said could’ve gutted Ethan more. He turned back to the window. It was ironic that he’d finally found someone he wanted to trust, who he wanted to trust him, and that her importance caused him to commit acts that ensured she never did.

  “Are you in love with her?” Sevrin’s question hit Ethan in the back like a dagger.

  Ethan tensed, but didn’t turn. He had no idea what romantic love felt like. He’d loved his mother and his father, but in an adoring, childish way. “I don’t know. I don’t love anyone.”

  “Not even your brother?”

  He’d grown very fond of Jason in the past few weeks. They’d reached a brotherly accord, a kinship Ethan had never imagined, but love? “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “You said you stole and killed for Audrey in order to keep her safe. She’s clearly important to you. Would you have done those things if she hadn’t been at stake?”

  Ethan tried to think but couldn’t find an answer. He honestly couldn’t imagine being without her now. Consequently, he couldn’t answer the question. So he said the only thing that filled his mind. “I don’t want to leave her.”

  Sevrin came to the window and stood a few feet away. “I left Philippa once because I thought it was the right thing to do for her. I made a decision that affected her without discussing it with her first. It was the worst decision I ever made. Thankfully she’s much smarter and braver than I am and came after me.”

  What was he saying, that he should talk to Audrey first? Just like he should’ve talked to Jason weeks ago, shared his plan, solicited his aid. But that took trust, something he never gave. Yet he’d have to give it to Audrey if he wanted any kind of future with her. If she’d even have him. “You heard Audrey. She doesn’t want anything more to do with me.”

  “Then go back to London and see how leaving her feels. I’m willing to wager you’ll figure it out by the time you hit Plymouth.” Sevrin shot him a look that clearly told him he was an idiot if he left. “Whatever you decide, I promise we’ll keep Miss Cheswick safe.”

  Ethan wanted to fix him with his most imperious glare, one that wouldn’t brook any failure, one he used on his men all the time. But he was too overwhelmed with trepidation and uncertainty. All he could manage was to say, “Thank you.”

  AUDREY DISMISSED THE young maid Philippa had sent to help her prepare for bed. She’d almost forgotten what it was like to have assistance with her clothes and her hair—such as it was. Thankfully, her curls were in much better condition since taking a bath. The maid had brushed the heavy mass until it was nearly dry. It ought to have relaxed Audrey, but she was as tightly wound as she’d been hours ago when she’d left Ethan downstairs.

  She’d known he was a criminal, had seen him kill firsthand. However, the things he’d revealed tonight had been far more personal. He’d hurt people she knew and cared about. It made everything he’d done, everything he was, far more real.

  A slight rap on her door made her tense even further. She got up from the chair by the fire, her legs feeling like brittle wood, and made her way slowly to the door. “Yes?”

  “It’s Philippa. May I come in?”

  Audrey opened the door. “Please.”

  Philippa offered a warm smile, then came in to give her a swift but strong hug. “How are you?”

  “Better after a bath. Thank you for loaning me your maid.” Like Miranda and Fox at Bassett Manor, they kept a relatively small staff and didn’t have a spare ladies’ maid. “And this dressing gown and nightrail, and . . . I could go on, but I’ll stop.”

  “Of course.” She closed the door and walked with Audrey into the bedchamber. “Have you given any thought to what you’d like to do?”

  “I’m not sure. Can I just stay here forever?” She smiled weakly as she perched on the edge of her bed. “Not really.”

  “You could if you wanted to,” Philippa said, sitting beside her. “Will your parents mind?”

  Philippa was a good enough friend to know that Audrey’s parents gave little thought to her other than to be disappointed by her failure to attract a husband—a failure her father had been assured of for years, which only made his disappointment both puzzling and frustrating. Would they mind if she disappeared? Given the way they’d stopped her from running to America two years prior, she supposed so. Still, removing herself to quiet spinsterhood in Cornwall might just be acceptable to them. The question was—would it be acceptable to Audrey? It would have to be. The dream she’d had of running away with Ethan was dead.

  “Ethan and I pretended we were eloping to America.” She wasn’t sure why she shared this, but her emotions just seemed too great.

  Philippa’s eyes widened. “Oh.” Then her gaze narrowed shrewdly. “Is that all it really was, pretend?”

  Audrey recalled the kisses they’d shared in his bedchamber, the waltz outside the assembly, the spirited evening with Fox and Miranda. Those had been the happiest two days of her life. “Somewhat.”

  “You didn’t know what sort of man he was then.”

  Audrey looked at her friend. “I did. But I believed he was trying to change. I still think he is. He doesn’t want to return to his criminal life. Philippa, if you only knew what he was forced to endure. He was left alone to fend for himself at a young age.”

  Philippa’s gaze was kind. “I’m sure he’s had a difficult life, and I can’t fault him for trying to change. Lady Jocelyn Carlyle told me something last month when we were in London. We were talking about Lydia and Jason. Jocelyn asked if I knew Mr. Locke—Ethan. The manner in which she asked led me to believe she might know him as I’d known him—as Jagger.”

  “And did she?”

  “Yes. He’d been involved somehow in a theft ring that had stolen something of Jocelyn’s. Her husband—Lord Carlyle is a former magistrate—helped to recover the item. Apparently Lord Aldridge had been behind the theft. He’d given the piece to his wife, which is how Jocelyn had discovered it. Facing exposure, Aldridge had tried to find a way to avoid any charges against him. However, his criminal cohorts prevented him from going to the authorities by killing him. Jocelyn said she and her husband witnessed the entire thing.”

  Audrey inhaled sharply. “How awful.”

  Philippa nodded. “Indeed. Jagger was there too, and he stopped the criminal from killing Jocelyn and Carlyle.”

  Audrey’s chest expanded. “See, he is trying to change.”

  “Maybe, but it’s going to be a long while before I’ll forgive him. I can’t forget what he’s done.” She touched Audrey’s hand. “Can you?”

  No, but neither could she forget his touch, his kiss, the way he looked at her. All of it was intertwined to make him the complicated gentleman criminal known as Ethan Jagger Locke Lockwood.

  Philippa gave her hand a pat and stood. “Sleep on it. Jagger plans to leave in the morning. Audrey, what sort of life would you have had with him?”

  Was he really going to leave? Though she’d told him he should—without her—the reality of it cut into her heart. “What sort of life do I have now? I have no idea what awaits me in London. What’s more, I’m not certain I care. I chose to leave with him. I preferred an unknown adventure to known tedium. I had no marriage prospects. My father won’t finance any more Seasons for me. He wants me to become a lady’s companion. He says it’s the best I can do.”

  Philippa’s eyes shone with pity. “Oh, Audrey, I had no idea.”

  No one did, because Audrey had never shared the true humiliation that was her life. To her parents, especially her father, she was at best a pawn, and at worst, a hindrance. She’d long ago accepted her lot, but that had been when she’d assumed she’d marry and establish herself as someone’s wife and mother. But with no marriage proposal, year after year, that expectation had withered and died. When the blacksmith’s son had told her of his desire to go to America, she’d leapt at the opportunity to reinvent herself in a new place. Her parents had convinced her it had been reckless, though as she’d resumed her stagnant l
ife she’d decided it hadn’t been, not when she truly believed there was nothing beneficial about her life in London. That’s why when the chance came up again—with Ethan—she hadn’t hesitated. And this time she wouldn’t have to go back to her useless existence. Her reputation would be tarnished enough that it would likely be impossible.

  Audrey forced a smile, her lips feeling tight and thin. “It’s all right. I’m sure things will work out for the best. They did for you, didn’t they?” As they had for Lydia and Olivia, Audrey’s other dear friends. So many happy endings; it seemed unlikely she would find one too.

  With a last empathetic look, Philippa turned and left. Audrey lay back and stared at the canopy overhead. It was hung with a rich, gold velvet, with drapes that pooled on the floor at each post. The bed itself was a massive piece of furniture, rather masculine in its size, but the gold hangings and stitched coverlet gave it a feminine touch. She ran her fingers over the outline of a leaf. Who had worked this thread and when? Had she lived here? Mayhap she’d been a spinster like Audrey would be—doomed to a life alone and without love. Had anyone even missed her after she’d passed? Would anyone miss Audrey?

  She didn’t know how long she sat there nursing her maudlin thoughts, but the click of her door opening and closing drew her out of her reverie. “Philippa?”

  Ethan moved further into the chamber. “No.”

  He prowled like a cat, his booted feet moving without sound. He wore only his shirtsleeves, the collar open at his throat. His dark hair was carelessly rumpled, as if he’d been lying down, but he’d shaved his face, leaving every contour and dimple naked and overwhelmingly attractive. His gray eyes raked her from head to foot with a sense of possession.

  Her entire body came alive, her seconds-ago sadness immediately cast aside. “Why are you here?” She ought to tell him to leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to banish him.

  “I know you said you didn’t want to see me, but I can’t leave tomorrow without . . .” He looked away and it was the first time he’d appeared uncertain, anxious.

  Her heart leapt at the change in him, but she cautioned herself not to capitulate to her attraction to him. Just because she didn’t want to be alone didn’t mean she should accept him. Even if she wanted him. Which she absolutely did.

  He refocused on her, his chin set as if he was working up his courage. She would’ve smiled if she hadn’t been wound like a clock.

  “I can’t leave tomorrow without seeing if there’s any chance you would still come with me.”

  She felt like her heart might beat out of her chest.

  He stepped toward her, his gait slow and purposeful. “I know I’ve given you every reason to hate me, but I want to leave my past behind and the best way I can see to do that is to start somewhere new with you—somewhere we could both be safe. If you want me, that is.”

  The urge to wrap her arms around him and kiss him senseless was so great that it paralyzed her. Or maybe that was her doubt and her fear keeping her fixed to the edge of the bed.

  “What do you mean, ‘somewhere new’?” Her voice sounded distant, strange. Her breath caught.

  “Anywhere you want.”

  Five days ago she’d wanted nothing more, but that had been before she’d watched him kill—again—with such brutal precision. Before she’d learned what he’d done to Philippa. Before she’d truly understood the horrors he was capable of. She couldn’t bring herself to talk about those things just yet. “But you wanted to return to London and fight for your innocence.”

  “I did.” He went to the hearth, where the fire had burned low. He picked up a poker and stirred the coals, coaxing the flames into an active dance. “There is every chance I would hang.” He replaced the poker and turned back toward her, his eyes bleak. She’d never seen him look like that—forlorn and lost. She imagined that was how he must’ve looked after his mother had died.

  She stood from the bed and took a step toward him.

  “How can I face the end of my life,” he said softly, each word rustling over her like a lover’s caress, “when I feel as if it’s just beginning?”

  Audrey threw herself into his arms and kissed him hard on the mouth. She twined her hands around his neck and kneaded his flesh. She never wanted to let him go.

  His lips opened over hers and their tongues met in a clash of fire and need. He slanted his head and lifted her flush against him. She pressed her chest to his, reveling in the feel of his heated flesh. She shouldn’t want him. She should push him away. She couldn’t breathe.

  She ripped her mouth from his and would’ve stepped back, but he held her fast.

  “Don’t leave me,” he croaked.

  Audrey fought to inhale and exhale. She stared up into his desperate eyes and felt his despair in her bones. “I don’t know if I can—”

  He cupped her face and stroked his thumbs along her cheeks. “Audrey, I’m not the man I was six months ago. Hell,” he closed his eyes briefly, “pardon. I’m not even the man I was six days ago. Because of you.”

  Her legs felt weak. Hope expanded in her chest.

  “I don’t want to be bad anymore. I’ve had enough of corruption and death. When I think of what I did to Philippa—” He inhaled sharply, then let go of her face. He stepped back. “It’s too late,” he whispered.

  Her face must have reflected something to cause his reaction. “No. I want to believe you. I think you do want to change. Philippa told me you saved Lady Carlyle and her husband.”

  His eyes widened for the barest second, but she caught it. “Lady Carlyle told her that?”

  Audrey nodded. “Is it true?”

  “Carlyle and his wife, though she wasn’t his wife then, had been kidnapped by the man who was running Lord Aldridge’s theft gang. His name was Nicky Blue.” He recalled the vivid blue eyes of his onetime right hand. “He was a friend of mine once—as much of a friend as someone like me can have. But he was a bloodthirsty wretch, which is why I knew he’d kill Carlyle and his wife.”

  “You didn’t let him.”

  He shook his head, his mouth twisting in a cold, but wry smile. “For the first time in my life, I ignored the code of survival. I risked myself to save someone else. Do you want to know the worst of it? I almost regret doing it, because you see, if I hadn’t, Gin Jimmy might not have determined that I was double-crossing him. At least, that’s the only thing I can figure.” He wiped his hand over his face. “I spent all summer plotting how to escape being Ethan Jagger, and Gin Jimmy must have somehow suspected me, despite my careful planning.”

  Audrey thought she understood. “You think he sensed a change in you.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe. He’d sent me into Society to ensure Lady Aldridge didn’t know anything about her husband’s theft ring. He didn’t expect me to like it. He had no idea it was what I wanted. But then, I didn’t know how badly I wanted it either.”

  She heard the longing in his voice. He wanted the life he’d been denied, a life as the son and brother of a viscount. Yet, he was willing to walk away from the chance of having it in order to start over with her. One might argue he was simply saving himself from the noose, but he’d been ready to return to London. Something had changed his mind. She had to know what that something was.

  She breached the gap between them and laid her palm against his chest. Her fingers touched his bare skin, while the heel of her hand rested against his shirt. His heart beat strong and fast beneath her hand, like a wild animal locked within a cage.

  “Why would you forgo that life to be with me?”

  His gaze was fierce. He laid his hand over hers, trapping her fingers against him. “Because I love you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  ETHAN WATCHED HER eyes widen and her mouth open with surprise. Regardless of how she felt, joy coursed through him. He didn’t remember the last time he’d felt so full, maybe never. Giving her his love gave him hope that perhaps his life wouldn’t be a waste. He’d heard the opposite so many times over the pa
st dozen or so years that he’d almost grown to believe it.

  He lifted her hand and pressed his mouth to her palm. His kiss was soft, but he licked her flesh and felt her shiver. He moved up to her wrist and kissed her again, his mouth open and wet so that he could suckle her softness. He wanted to taste every inch of her.

  Her eyes slitted as he pushed up the sleeve of her dressing gown. He ascended her forearm until he reached the gentle indentation of the inside of her elbow. She twitched when he tongued her there.

  He straightened. “Look at me, Audrey. I will stop whenever you ask me to.”

  She shook her head, her eyes still half-closed. “Don’t stop.” She unhooked the front of her dressing gown and let the front gap open to reveal her nightrail beneath.

  It was the most chaste offer he’d ever received, but by far the most provocative. A tremor ran though his body at the thought of what she was truly offering. Her life, and his, would be irrevocably changed. It was why he’d kept his hands to himself since they’d left London. Well, for the most part.

  “Does this mean . . . you’ll come with me?” He was almost afraid to ask, but he had to know. This was an action that, once taken, could not be reversed.

  She gazed at him with hope. “If you truly mean to stop being a criminal, yes.”

  “I do.” Happiness, true bliss, was just within his grasp. “You’ll have to marry me, though.” He’d never imagined that would come to pass, and Christ, he’d bungled the proposal horribly. He took her hand and dropped to his knees. “Audrey, please be my wife and I will spend my life trying to deserve you. You make me yearn to be decent and,” he stopped before his voice could crack and took a sustaining breath, “good.”

  She smiled down at him. “Yes.” With her free hand she leaned down and cupped his cheek. “You have made me the happiest woman alive. I know you’ve struggled and I understand what you’ve done in order to survive. And I am so glad and relieved you want to be different. I know you can be, Ethan. I’ve seen the man no one else has.”