A Most Peculiar Season Series Boxed Set: Five Full-length Connected Novels by Award-winning and Bestselling Authors

by Michelle Willingham

  Dare, too, had received an invitation to the duke’s affair. “I will see you there. Do not disappoint me, or we shall have this conversation in front of your father.”

  “I’d rather go to Newgate,” she murmured.

  He smiled in spite of his determination to intimidate the chit. “That remains a distinct possibility, Miss Gertrude.”

  He turned away and would have exited if Mrs. Carr had not cleared her throat and recalled him to his manners. He offered her a parting bow before replacing his hat on his head. “Mrs. Carr, what a pleasure it was to meet you.”

  She stood and curtsied. “Thank you, Lord Collingwood. If you have just a moment, I would like to introduce you to Trudy’s older sister, Fiona.”

  Was the woman, in her own inimitable way, trying to switch his attentions? Let him know that Fiona was available, while Trudy was not? “I have already had that pleasure, Mrs. Carr. Yesterday, at Lady Ellison’s charity carnival. Your husband did the honors.”

  “Ah, I did not know. My husband rarely informs me of such things.”

  He’d wager she did know, and that she had only meant to make it clear that Fiona, not Trudy, would be the next to marry. Unfortunately for her, Dare was impervious to the manipulation of ambitious mothers, and quite used to following his own inclinations.

  Dare sat at his desk, comparing one list to another until he felt his eyes would cross. He’d thought this task of simple comparison would quickly yield the name of the Shadow, but he’d been grossly mistaken. He’d been certain at least five names that one name would rise to the surface. But he’d only been able to narrow the list of suspects to a paltry twenty!

  Why the deuce must the ton host affairs so large? What had happened to intimate dinners and small soirées?

  His butler eased the study door open and peeked in, his long nose protruding through the gap. “There is a Mr. William Esham here to see you, my lord. Shall I send him away?”

  Dare glanced at the mantle clock. Half past four. He had hours before he had to dress for the Devonshire affair. “No, Mills. Send him in. And see that we are not disturbed.”

  A moment later Esham edged through the door and closed it behind him. He looked a good deal better today than when they’d met. The blood had been washed away and his nose had been straightened. Most of the swelling had gone down. The man must be a quick healer. He was also dressed in a fashionable manner instead of the workman garb he’d worn before. William Esham, Dare surmised, was more than he seemed.

  He waved at the small sideboard. “There’s claret or port. Help yourself.”

  Esham poured two glasses of port, brought them to the desk and sat across from Dare. “No progress?”

  “Blast it all, no.” He took one glass. “I have it narrowed to just under fifty—assuming that everyone sent an invitation actually attended. I begin to think I am on a fool’s errand.”

  “We have nothing better to go on, Collingwood.”

  Ah, but he did. Miss Gertrude Carr and her entire family was on every list, though he knew all of them hadn’t attended. But he had every reason to believe Trudy could be the Shadow. Every reason but one—a motive. He’d hoped to eliminate her, but that hadn’t been the case. Now he had to face the possibility that the most interesting woman he’d ever met was a jewel thief. And an anathema to everything he stood for. He could only pray she did not think he would protect her. He wouldn’t. Not for a moment.

  “There’s one little oddity.” Esham paused and took a drink of his wine. “None of the stolen pieces have surfaced. Not even jewels taken from their settings. Whatever the thief is doing, he is not divesting. ’Tis like he knows he’d be caught if he did. But why take the risk if he cannot profit?”

  Why would Trudy take such a risk? For excitement? For consequence? Could that be her motive?

  “I’ve already investigated the servants at each affair, and found nothing. But they are not all at the same events anyway. So now I am wondering if our man could be an uninvited guest. Someone who never had his name on a guest list.”

  Excellent question. Dare took some cash from his drawer and pushed it across the desk toward Esham. “An advance. Go to Bond Street and have some things made. I will have you put on all the best guest lists until this is over. Just swear to me, Esham, that if you find out who the Shadow is, you will come to me first. Before you call the charleys or the watch.”

  Esham grinned. “Did I not already promise? And I may be able to scrape up something presentable for tonight.”

  Dare nodded. Another set of eyes would be welcome. He could only pray it was not Trudy they would catch in their trap.

  Trudy glanced around the ballroom again. An orchestra played on a dais in one corner, and reels followed contra dances, minuets, cotillions and quadrilles. The crush on the sidelines was so dense that she could scarce make her way to the French doors and the gardens beyond. Her stomach twisted with anxiety and she desperately needed a breath of cool air to clear her head. It was just before midnight, and Lord Collingwood had finally arrived, though he had not seen her yet. She needed a moment to brace herself for his wrath.

  Just as she was about to make her exit to the gardens, there was a tap on her shoulder. “Excuse me, Miss Gertrude, would you do me the honor of the next dance?”

  She turned and found the young man Lady Charlotte, the Dowager Countess of Thorpe, had introduced her to upon her arrival at Devonshire House that evening. Mr. Alex Smythe-Worth, the eccentric Lady Charlotte’s cousin, gave her an elegant bow coupled with an engaging smile. Dressed plainly in simple black and white, he was a handsome young man, and even more pleasing when he smiled—rather pretty. How could she refuse?

  She curtsied and offered her hand. “I would be delighted, sir.”

  He led her to the dance floor and they took their places in line as the strains of a measured contra dance began. She was acutely aware that Collingwood had spotted her and was watching her every move. Well, if he was so interested, she’d give him something to ponder.

  She favored Mr. Smythe-Worth with her most dazzling smile. “Lady Charlotte mentioned that you have just arrived in London, sir. How are you enjoying our fair city?”

  “There is much to interest me here.” He gave a small shrug. “Diversions enough to keep me in town for a while.”

  “Was that Mr. Littleworth I saw you speaking to earlier?”

  “We have a nodding acquaintance.”

  “A very interesting man, is he not? His sister Julia and I are acquainted. Do you know Julia?”

  “From what I hear, Miss Gertrude, I would have to be considerably braver or slightly intoxicated to venture there.”

  Trudy chuckled. Ah, Mr. Smythe-Worth was quite discerning and had a sense of humor—so attractive in a man. She glanced about the sidelines and noted that Baron D’Arcy was watching her partner rather intently. Were they acquainted? She’d been under the impression that Mr. Smythe-Worth had just arrived in London. D’Arcy did not seem to be pleased but she was certain that dark look was not meant for her.

  The remainder of the dance was spent in pleasantries and a bit of gentle flirting, to which Mr. Smythe-Worth seemed amenable. When the dance ended, she curtsied and he bowed to kiss her hand. How very continental.

  “I hope we shall meet again before you leave, Mr. Smythe-Worth.” She quickly excused herself to escape to the gardens before Collingwood could confront her in public. She prayed for privacy and that she could return his watch without anyone witnessing them. Still, she couldn’t resist looking over her shoulder and giving her dancing partner a little wave and a smile.

  Now that would give Collingwood something to think about!

  Once on the terrace, she leaned against the balustrade and took several deep breaths, trying to clear her head and ease her anxiety. If Collingwood did not find her, would he go immediately to the authorities and report his suspicion of her?

  She should have heeded Fiona’s warning—and Collingwood’s own—that he was too rigid and ster
n. Too fond of the law to entertain the notion of forgiveness or any measure of understanding. She’d been an utter fool to bait such a man.

  A hand squeezed her shoulder. “Here you are.”

  She spun. “Collingwood! Oh, thank heavens.”

  “You are pleased to see me?” His voice was skeptical.

  “Yes! That is... you have not gone to the charleys, have you?”

  “Afraid I’d turned you in?”

  “The law is everything to you.”

  He sighed and shrugged. “Perhaps not everything. I know you are playing some sort of game, Trudy, but I do not think you are a criminal. This would be a different conversation if I did.”

  Some of the tension inside her drained and she sagged with relief. She hadn’t realized her nerves were drawn quite so tight. She opened the reticule around her wrist, removed Collingwood’s watch, and held it out to him. She didn’t realize her hand was trembling until he steadied it with his own.

  He removed the watch but did not release her hand. Stroking her open palm with his thumb, he smiled for the first time, as if some crisis had passed. “Thank you, Trudy.”

  “I... I never intended to keep it.”

  He met her gaze. “I suspected as much. Then what was your intent?”

  “To distract you.”

  “Accomplished. But from what?”

  She could never tell him she hadn’t wanted him following Lancelot. “I thought you were going to expose me to Father.”

  He shook his head. “I intended to keep you from disaster, should you be discovered as a woman.”

  “Which would be embarrassing, to be sure, but disastrous? How?” She frowned, never suspecting that he might want to protect her.

  He hooked her arm through his and led her down the terrace steps to the garden. “You cannot begin to imagine the consequences. Alone and unprotected, you are vulnerable to anything. Ravishment by unprincipled men, kidnapping for ransom, assault, injury from fights, robbery. And, perhaps worst of all, discovery by the ton. You’d be forever ruined, Trudy. An anathema to all they stand for and consider decent behavior. Not even your family’s reputation and money could save you then.”

  Yes, she’d realized all that, but it was Lancelot she’d meant to save. Any of that—all of that—would be worth that risk. But she suspected the most painful consequence of all would be that Darius Rusten, Lord Collingwood, would turn his back on her. Might even turn his back on her before he was finished with her tonight.

  There was an angry edge to his voice now. “Promise me you will never steal or go abroad at night alone again.”

  She took a deep breath, looked up at him, and lied. “I promise.” They turned down a winding path to their left. With three acres of ground, the gardens had more than enough room to afford privacy. “So. We are quit now?”

  He shook his head. “Oh, I think not, Miss Trudy. We still have a few things to talk about.”

  She couldn’t be certain how much longer she could deceive him. He was far too discerning. “Do we? I thought we were done. What else could we have to discuss?”

  “Your real reason for being at the Blue Swan.”

  “I was following Lancelot.”

  He nodded. “I believe that. But for what purpose? And do not give me that twaddle about wanting to see what he does when he is gone from home. I’m certain he’d tell you if you only asked.”

  Drat! He was far too shrewd. “Do you not have some business to be about, Collingwood? Are you not supposed to be chasing the Mayfair Shadow?”

  “Trudy—”

  “Or doing something better than taking me to task over something you deem inappropriate?”

  He brushed the trailing branches of a stand of willows aside, pulled her into that shelter, and spun her around to face him. “Something I deem inappropriate? All the ton would deem it inappropriate. Shall we test your theory on your own mother and father? See with which of us they agree?”

  “No!” Heaven forbid such a thing! “’Tis just... have you any idea how restrictive it is to be female? How boring and staid? What could possibly be wrong with a little adventure?”

  “I have just enumerated the consequences. Do they bear repeating?”

  “But a woman has precious few opportunities for excitement.”

  “Excitement?” he scoffed. “You want excitement, eh?” He tugged her arm and she landed against his chest. Before she could react he backed her against the thick trunk of a tree, slipped one arm around her waist and cupped the back of her head with his other hand. When his mouth came down on hers, it was nothing like his previous kisses. This one was hard, demanding, angry. She doubted she could stop him even if she had wanted to. But she didn’t.

  She slipped her arms up to circle his neck and raised up on her toes to meet him. Oh, this was exciting beyond measure. This would feed her dreams for months to come. But she wanted a bit more this time. Something new to remember when he’d found the Shadow or tired of the game and no longer sought her out.

  Leaving her mouth, he traced a path of kisses from the tender spot behind her ear downward to her shoulder blade where he kissed the hollow of her throat. An involuntary gasp escaped her when he moved up again and nibbled her earlobe. How could such small things evoke such delight?

  He bent slightly, swept her skirts upward and pinned her against the trunk. The thunder of her heartbeat muted the sound of the orchestra and the distant drone of voices. The world outside the sheltering branches faded and all that remained was Collingwood... kissing her... moving one hand slowly up her thigh... above her silk garter...

  With his other hand, he pushed her little puff sleeves down her arms, then nudged the edge of her neckline down enough to reveal the sensitive tips of her breasts. Shocked, she tried to shield herself, but Collingwood pushed her hand aside with a little groan and bent his mouth to the spot.

  The touch of his lips as they closed over one tip, the feel of his tongue, was dizzying. She hadn’t imagined anything could feel so... so... what? Delightful? Exciting? Whatever it was, it was more than she could have imagined. She never wanted him to stop, never wanted this moment to end. And a moment later, she realized she wanted more. That what he’d done to her, though thrilling, was not quite enough. She was breathless, gasping, desperate, and she didn’t know why.

  She braced herself with one hand on his shoulder and slipped the fingers of her other hand through his hair to hold him closer. He did the most delightful things, nibbling, sucking, licking. “Dare!” she gasped, remembering that he had wanted his name from her when they’d kissed before. “Oh! Dear Lord!”

  His fingers tightened on her thigh, and a deep growl rumbled in his throat. His mouth still on her breast, he slid that hand toward the inside of her thigh and upward to the juncture of her legs.

  She was on fire. She couldn’t stop panting. She lifted one knee to skim his hip and he moaned. The soft pad of his thumb found that most sensitive spot and began a slow teasing stroke. She nearly swooned.

  “Yes, Trudy. Yes.”

  Yes! Oh, yes... That was what she’d wanted. What he wanted, too. She felt as if she were climbing a mountain, rising higher and higher until she could barely breathe in the rarefied atmosphere. Feeling as though her only recourse was to rise yet higher, to reach the peak.

  Then, as he stroked, he slid one finger into her, moving it in concert with his thumb, then added another. She feared for a moment that she might faint, then her hips jerked and pressed against his hand, wanting him deeper.

  He lifted his attention from her breasts to come up and speak against her lips. “You’re velvet outside and silk inside, Trudy. You have the makings of a courtesan. My courtesan. You’ve been designed expressly for me. Now come for me...”

  He increased the pressure of his thumb and fingers, covering her mouth with his to swallow her cry as the world spun out of control. Waves of indescribable pleasure swept over her, rolled through her, and left her limp and moaning.

  Muted voices car
ried to them from the garden path. The branches were thick with leaves and reached nearly to the ground. They were safe from discovery as long as they remained silent. Collingwood quickly dropped her skirts and held her steady until she caught her balance.

  The conversation grew fainter as the intruders passed by, and Trudy looked up into Dare’s eyes. He was watching her, something bewildering in his expression, and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Exciting enough, my dear?” He turned her toward the path, took her arm, and set a slow pace.

  When they were back at the terrace steps, she took a deep, shaky breath. “What... what just happened?” she asked. But she was fairly certain she knew.

  “If you need to ask, my dear, I have done it all wrong.”

  “I gather I have been ravished?”

  “Rather thoroughly, I think.”

  She sighed. “Goodness.”

  “Goodness had nothing to do with it, Trudy.”

  “Then I must congratulate you on your skill, Collingwood.”

  He coughed and she fancied it was to cover a laugh. “Then it is enough to satisfy your need for adventure and excitement?”

  “For the moment.”

  “Bloody hell...”

  Chapter Eight

  “DO YOU NOT think so, Trudy?” Fiona asked.

  Trudy blinked, leaving her daydreams of Collingwood behind and coming back to the fitting room and the conversation. “Think what, Fi?”

  “That Laura has lost even more weight? She’s nearly your size now.”

  She glanced at her oldest sister, who was standing on the dressmaker’s platform, examining herself in the mirror. Trudy thought the gown was the most beautiful creation she’d ever seen, with layers of shimmering blush chiffon trimmed in sparkling crystals. Laura had had the final fitting last week, but now the beautiful ivory gown looked rather ill-fitting. There would have to be further alterations.

  An awful thought occurred to her. “Are you ill, Laura?”

  “No.” Her voice was flat and expressionless. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes, and she had not spoken more than a few words at a time for days.