by Gaelen Foley
Not everyone was happy about that, of course.
As they proceeded into the ballroom, her white-gloved hand resting in the crook of her husband’s arm, she noticed the band of lascivious ladies who had come to the house that day. Tonight Lucinda and Pauline and the rest had found a new male plaything with which to amuse themselves.
There were now swarming around Sebastian, Viscount Beauchamp, the leader of another team for the Order.
Rohan had told her that Virgil had been waiting for the other team’s return from the Continent for some time.
“Beau” was leaning against a column in the ballroom with a crowd of lovely women around him. The tall, good-looking viscount appeared more than happy to oblige each and every one of them.
Rohan noticed the clamor around Beau and sent Kate a sardonic look askance. She shook her head just as Lucinda and Pauline glanced over.
Flanking Lord Beauchamp, the two ladies nodded to Kate in begrudging respect. They might not like having lost the Beast to her, but they did not appear to want to cross her.
“There’s Max and Daphne,” Rohan murmured.
Kate smiled as their friends waved.
As they started toward the other couple, Kate caught a glimpse of them in one of the room’s large, gilded mirrors.
They had come a long way since Orkney. Arm in arm, they certainly looked a part of the crème de la crème of Society. Rohan, as always, was mouthwateringly handsome, clad tonight in formal black and white.
Kate had donned a rich pink gown with a low, heart-shaped neckline that left plenty of space to show off the brilliant diamond necklace that he had given her. It matched the dazzling rock of a blue diamond ring that he had presented as part of his promise to spoil her.
Under the diamond ring, however, on her left hand, closer to her heart, she still wore the blacksmith’s nail he had fashioned for her on their wedding day. She always smiled to herself when she thought of it, the two of them dressed like dusty barbarians in sealskin coats, but madly in love.
Come to think of it, she was already beginning to grow a little restless for their next adventure, wherever it might lead.
“There you are!”
Greetings were exchanged as they met up with Max and Daphne. Kate let go of Rohan’s arm as she received a small hug from her golden-haired friend.
Daphne, as well as her best friend, Miss Carissa Portland, had welcomed her into their friendship with such warm acceptance that both had quickly become as dear as sisters to her, while Max and Jordan were now like her own brothers.
“We finally heard from my father!” Kate told the Rotherstones in excitement, keeping her voice down. “His message just arrived today.”
“What news?” Max murmured, glancing at Rohan.
“They got old Mr. Tewkes back safely!” Kate chimed in.
“Drake’s alive,” Rohan told him. “Captain Fox doesn’t have him, but saw the Coast Guard pick him up. Unfortunately, Drake managed to rescue Falkirk, too.”
“He saved that blackguard again?” Max asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Apparently so. My father-in-law didn’t know where they are now, though.”
The news was repeated to Jordan when he joined them a moment later, followed by the petite, auburn-haired Carissa. Noticing those two together, as they often were these days, Kate nudged Max confidentially in the side while Rohan turned to greet Jordan.
“See? Carissa and Jordan are together again.”
“No, trust me,” he murmured. “She’s like a sister to him. I’ve known Jordan since we were lads, and all that time, there has really only been one woman for him.”
“Who? Is he courting her?”
“No,” Max said dryly. “They hate each other. Besides, I think Carissa has got her eye on somebody else.”
Meanwhile, Rohan began telling his friends how he had finally procured the licenses for the fishery he wanted to start in Cornwall to make honest men out of the smugglers.
Kate noticed that Jordan seemed a trifle detached or distracted. She supposed he was probably still on the lookout for that Promethean assassin Rohan had warned her about.
The men and the ladies separated for conversation. Carissa joined Kate, scowling like an angry fairy queen at someone across the ballroom.
“What’s wrong?” Kate asked in amusement. “Who are you sending those dirty looks?”
“Ugh!” the redhead huffed. “He is the most horrible man on the earth.”
“Who is, pray tell?” Kate exclaimed in amusement as Daphne moved around the men to join them.
“I think I know!” she chimed in with a smile. “She’s fixated on Beau.”
“Are you joking?” Carissa scoffed. “The man’s a jester. An utter fool!”
“But a handsome fool,” Daphne teased her while Kate folded her arms across her chest and nodded in amusement.
“Look at him, eating up all their attention. He is shameless.”
“Didn’t he ask you to dance a few nights ago?” Daphne asked innocently, folding her arms across her chest.
Carissa rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said yes. I’ve never met anyone so annoying. He thinks he’s clever, but he doesn’t seem to grasp that one is laughing at him, not with him.”
“Oh, come!” Kate laughed.
“I don’t understand why he bothers you so much,” Daphne said. “He’s not so bad!”
“He’s a coxcomb!” Carissa vowed. “Why can’t he act more like Lord Falconridge? Jordan, now, he is too much of a gentleman to let women fawn on him like that.”
“Are you gossiping about me, Miss Portland?” the earl in question drawled, overhearing. When he glanced at Carissa with a brotherly smile, Kate realized Max was right. Theirs was just a friendship.
“No, my lord,” she answered. “I am praising you as a paragon of chivalry.”
“Ha!” Max replied to that, but Jordan tugged his own coat with an air of satisfaction.
“You hear that, boys? I’m a paragon.”
Rohan scoffed. “Any progress with those scrolls?”
Jordan nodded. “A little.”
“Don’t forget, I offered to help you!” Kate reminded him, but just then, Jordan’s light eyes narrowed on a distant quarter of the ballroom. He suddenly went motionless.
Maybe he had spotted his “one and only” lady in the ballroom, whoever she was, Kate mused. But then she noticed that Rohan and Max had also come to attention, following his gaze.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Jordan withdrew from their midst without another word.
The other two exchanged a sober glance.
“Is it Bloodwell?” Rohan murmured, but Jordan had already gone ahead of them.
Daphne drew in her breath bravely as Max nodded in answer and followed Jordan with a dark look.
Rohan stayed by the women to guard them. “Don’t worry,” he told them softly.
“What’s going on?” Carissa asked in confusion. She had not been made privy to the true nature of the Inferno Club, as the two wives had.
“Jordan should have stayed. He’s the code man. I should be the one to do this,” Rohan growled under his breath, but Virgil was still disgruntled at him for not following protocol; he had given the job of killing the Promethean assassin to the earl.
“I am sure Lord Falconridge is equal to the task.” Kate gave her husband an even look, but Daphne glanced at someone who was approaching from the other side of them.
“Lady Rotherstone,” a haughty male voice greeted her.
Kate turned around as Daphne’s usual smile thinned, her posture stiffening. “Your Grace.”
Kate moved closer to her friend, having already been introduced to Daphne’s insufferable former suitor, the haughty Albert Carew, Duke of Holyfield.
“So formal? Come, my dear, we were once engaged. You can still call me Alby, as you used to.”
“Our ‘engagement’ existed only in your mind, Albert. If you recall correctly, I never agreed to it.”
&n
bsp; Albert snickered, glancing toward the door. “I notice your husband ran off when he saw me coming.”
Rohan raised an eyebrow at the smaller man in the dandified clothes.
“Warrington,” his fellow duke greeted him. “Damned fine filly you’ve got there, eh? All the kick, so they tell me.”
Kate’s eyes widened as Rohan’s narrowed at Albert’s breezy tone. She shook her head firmly at her husband.
No, darling. No lopping off heads in the ballroom.
He scowled in answer, but Alby was oblivious.
“Yes, I say, a most excellent wife. I should get me a lady like yours, what?” He sent Daphne a reproachful look askance, then regarded Kate again with admiration. “Wherever did you find her, anyway?”
Rohan glowered at him. “Let’s just say she was given to me . . . as a gift.”
Albert laughed heartily. “A gift, eh? Right. Ah, here comes the Prince Regent!” He brightened. “His Royal Highness will be wanting my company, no doubt. If you’ll pardon me.”
“Gladly,” Daphne replied.
Albert dashed off into the crowd, then Kate went to Rohan and put her arms around his waist.
“Given to you as a gift.” Daphne shook her head at Rohan. “You shouldn’t encourage him with such jests. That’s going to be all over Society in about ten minutes, you know.”
Kate laughed. “Let them talk! We are too pleased with each other to care.”
“That we are.” Rohan leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Best present I ever got,” he added in a roguish murmur.
Just then, Max returned, but as he joined them, he was still glancing behind him rather warily.
“Is everything all right?” Daphne asked, going to him.
He nodded as he put his arm around her.
“Does Jordan need any help?” Rohan murmured.
“He’s already got some,” he replied. “Beauchamp.”
“Help with what?” Carissa exclaimed, perking up at the mention of the viscount she supposedly couldn’t stand.
“All those dreadful women,” Rohan replied indulgently.
Kate scoffed and shot her husband an arch look. You mean your former harem?
But the hungry look of pure devotion he gave her now reminded her she was the only woman in his life.
He gathered her hands into his, kissed each one, then tugged her toward the dance floor. “Come, I want that waltz you promised me.”
Meanwhile, outside, Jordan’s eyes gleamed in the darkness, his breath steaming in the cold air of the late February night. He bent smoothly and slid a dagger out of the ankle sheath concealed by the leg of his trousers.
Beau signaled to him from the other end of the dark, silent garden, and they both began moving stealthily in the direction that Dresden Bloodwell had gone . . .
