Page 28 of The Scoundrel of Drury Lane
Darius must have news on Balfour or Walsh. Kit curled his fists, relishing the thought that he was one step closer to his revenge. After a moment, he returned to the drawing room and lifted his own lamp, acknowledging the signal.
8
Kit tried to hold still as his new valet, Nolan, worked on the folds of his cravat. The recently promoted footman was rather good at his duties, but Kit was no longer used to letting anyone dress him. He also wasn’t used to that annoying feeling of his clothes being so tight against his skin or wearing so many layers.
“Are you well, my lord?” Nolan asked, aware of Kit’s discomfort.
“Yes, I’m fine,” he lied, and then, after a moment, he decided to be honest. “I am not used to so many layers of clothing. The climate here is cold, too. I am adjusting, just not quickly enough.” He slipped a finger under his cravat and tugged on it, feeling for a brief moment that he could breathe easier. “Don’t fret. You’re doing well, Nolan. Very well,” he assured the young man.
The valet flashed a relieved smile before he retrieved Kit’s evening coat from a nearby chair and helped him into it. Kit glanced briefly at himself in the tall mirror in the corner of his bedchamber and couldn’t help but notice his own thunderous expression. Is this how he appeared to everyone?
Part of his ill mood likely had to do with the fact that he wasn’t going to see Suzannah tonight. He’d planned on having her and Henry back at his home again, but then Darius and Lionel had informed him that he was required to attend a ball. Based on what Lionel had learned, Kit would need to make averypublic appearance tonight so that Walsh and Balfour would see him with their own eyes. That would force the two men to act, hopefully in a reckless way, which would give him the opportunity to break the men apart and crush them.
The knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to bring Suzannah to his home to work on her painting made Kit quite surly. He’d have no chance to steal another kiss or say things that got under her skin causing her to blush with beautiful fury. Instead, he had to dress up like a fool and go to a bloody ball.
Kit tugged absently on his coat with a scowl while Nolan ran a brown brush over the shoulders and back, removing any dust before he surveyed his work.
“I believe you’re ready, my lord.”
“Thank you, Nolan. Oh, by the by, I may be late this evening. Do not wait up for me if I do not return by midnight.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Kit collected his hat from Nolan and left his bedchamber. Darius and Lionel were waiting for him in the entryway, both in their best evening clothes. Kit still balked at the thought of stepping into a crowded ballroom, but at least his friends would be with him.
Once the three men were inside Darius’s coach, Kit felt it safe to speak. “Does Lennox know to expect us this evening?”
“Yes,” Darius assured him. “When I received the invitation, I was given a second message. He will hear our proposal this evening. Given that Lennox is throwing the ball, I imagine he has a room where we can have a discussion without fear of being overheard.”
The coach stopped at a fashionable grand house on Half Moon Street. Kit, Darius, and Lionel soon joined the throng of people waiting to be allowed inside. Lamplight from the windows facing the street glowed warmly over the finely dressed ladies and gentlemen.
“Lennox never struck me as a ball-throwing man,” Lionel said. “I wonder if he stands there imperiously, glowering at everyone, or if he actually likes to dance.”
Darius chuckled. “From what I understand, he only hosts balls for the business connections. This is the easiest way to bring people to him where he can manage introductions and business alliances smoothly. Social engagements take away the crude talk of business between strangers. It’s rather clever.”
Lionel sniggered. “I’m sure a few glasses of arrack punch help loosen tongues a bit as well.”
The three of them followed the crowd inside the house. People began to notice Kit, and the murmuring soon spread like wildfire. Between the whispered gossip and the sudden change from the cool outdoor air to the hot crush of perfumed bodies, Kit was suffocating. He dug a finger into his cravat and pulled, feeling like he couldn’t breathe.
“Steady on, old boy,” Darius said in a low voice.
Kit tried to ignore the tension building between his shoulders as his name rippled through whispers across the ballroom.
Several young debutantes scattered in a mix of squeals and giggles as he, Darius, and Lionel made their way to the center of the ballroom.
I have to be visible, I have to be seen,Kit reminded himself. But in truth, he wanted nothing more in that moment than to disappear.
There was one person he wanted toseehim, and she was not here. He thought of Suzannah sitting in the back rooms of the Drury Lane theater, painting her sets. Was she disappointed or relieved that he’d had to cancel her session with him this evening? She was probably relieved, given how forward and intimidating he’d been with her.Hewas the one who was disappointed. Mad as it was, he felt like she was the only person who had seen the real him. Not even his friends had seen his scars yet. He had given Suzannah the truth of himself to do with as she wished, and it remained to be seen if that was a mistake or not.
Kit’s gaze roved over the crowded ballroom, seeking his prey. His heart stopped for a beat as he recognized two familiar faces.There.There they were.
Time had not been kind to the justice of the peace who’d helped seal his fate. Balfour’s face had puffed out, no doubt from the excesses of his lavish lifestyle. Kit had learned that the magistrate had taken to dining out often and had been seen visiting the more expensive brothels in London, sometimes twice a day. The man still had a robust figure that exuded power, but he was beginning a gradual slide out of his prime.
Walsh, on the other hand, looked more nervous and wiry than he remembered. Time had put worry lines in the man’s face and a twitchiness to his eyes and nose that made him look rather like a rabbit ready to bolt at any moment. That was something Kit could work with. Fear made someone easier to manipulate.
Kit’s spine stiffened. Now that he had seen the enemy, he set about ignoring the two men who had ruined his life. Instead, he flashed rakish smiles at the women he passed and gave acknowledging nods to the gentlemen. He considered putting his name down on a few girls’ dance cards, but the heaving bosoms of clearly distraught mothers who hovered above their precious chicks changed his mind. He wished to cause a stir, not acatastrophe. If he asked even one of these young chits to dance, their overprotective mothers would faint dead away. He could do without that.
Lionel came to Kit’s side and handed him a glass of punch. “Lennox just gave us the signal. Follow me.”
