Page 14 of His Wicked Secret
“You may look now.”
He turned toward her, taking in the sweet sight of Audrey in his bed, her large brown eyes open and her hair loose in curled waves. She must have removed the pins herself.
“See? This isn’t so bad, is it?” he asked.
She wrinkled her nose. “Do you snore?”
“Snore? No,” he promised.
“Good. If you do, I will smother you with a pillow. Consider yourself warned.” She fluffed the pillows behind her in the most adorably menacing fashion.
Jonathan tried to hold in a laugh. “Lord, I actually believe you.” He settled down into the bed beside her, grinning. He had finally gotten Audrey into his bed, though not in the way he had hoped. But it was a start. He lay awake for a long while, listening to the symphony of her soft breathing as it deepened into slumber. Then he shifted to lie on his side and gazed upon her face in the dim light from the flames in the fireplace.
“If you will have me,” he whispered, carving the vow upon his heart, “I will prove myself to you. I swear it.”
4
Gerald Langley rose from the floor of the hallway of his club, his head aching. He coughed and brushed plaster dust off his body. The world around him was in a state of destruction. The dining room was littered with spilled trays of food, chairs were overturned, and the acrid smell of gunpowder still lingered in the air. The house was silent; not a single member of his club was still around. The cowards. He rose to his feet, stumbling a little as he called out for his butler. There was no answer. Even the servants had fled? He would fire each and every last one of them for their disloyalty.
“Clayton,” he bellowed. “Where the bloody hell are you?”
He stumbled down the hall into his private study. This house was the headquarters to his club, the Unholy Sinners of Hell, but he often stayed here when he didn’t wish to go to his townhouse in Mayfair. Lately he had spent more and more of his time here thanks to that bitch Lady Society. He’d been so close to ending that problem once and for all. But that damned Lord Pembroke and that other fellow, whoever he was… How had they even gotten in? He’d never had an issue with security before tonight.
He threw himself into the desk chair and reached for the bottle of brandy on his desk.
A voice came from the doorway. “Have a little trouble this evening?” Langley jerked up his head up to stare at the tall man in dark clothes. Gerald knew the man, but he wasn’t a member of his club.
“Trouble? Of course I had trouble. You said if I spoke to certain ladies, ones who frequented the club, that Lady Society would overhear my plans at that ball and try to switch places with one of them.”
“We know how she thinks, where she frequents,” the man said, “and what drives her. It seemed a certainty that she would take the bait.”
“Well she did, and she brought a second girl with her, but it didn’t go right at all. I was supposed to have her right where I wanted her.”
The man stepped forward. “And didn’t you? She was here with your group, yet the house is empty and you’re ready to drink yourself into defeat.”
“Sheffield, you said that it would beeasyto deal with her. Yet she brought an army with her to rescue her.”
The man, Daniel Sheffield, glanced back into the hall. “An army? You exaggerate. Your men did more harm to each other in the confusion, I expect.”
“And so what if they did? I was almost killed.”
“How many were there, in truth?” Sheffield asked.
“I counted two, the Earl of Pembroke and some other man, but there could have been more. They ruined everything, shot up the place, shot me up!” He raised a slightly bloody arm. It was a graze in truth, but it stung almost as much as his wounded pride. “And Lady Society got away.”
Sheffield straightened his coat and walked closer to Langley.
“It is a pity the plan did not work out, but you were a fool to assume she would come unaided.”
“Yes, well, now what am I to do? I am not even sure of her identity. She was just a little chit wearing a mask. She looked like half the young debs who came out in London this year. The friend she brought with her was just as forgettable. How can I find her now? She’s like a bloody ghost, and yet everyone in thetonlistens to her. She’s ruined me, do you understand? Banks have refused me credit, my sister and her husband aren’t invited anywhere anymore, and I can’t even walk around Mayfair without people avoiding me in the streets.”
Sheffield gave a cold smile, as if he somehow respected what the bitch had done. “Amazing, isn’t it? The power one woman can wield?”
“What must I do to avenge myself upon her?” Langley lifted the brandy bottle to his lips and drank deep.
“Nothing. The game is played out. I did my best to help you, but now we must end this in another manner.”
“I agree, let’s end this. I want her dead.” Langley took another swig from his bottle.
