A Lady’s Luck: Devilish Lords #4

by Maggie Dallen

  “An admiral,” he growled.

  She beamed up at him as Lord Crawford reached her side. He stood, as did she, accepting the drink he handed her as he shot a questioning look in Alistair’s direction. Henri answered his unspoken question. “Lord Colefax was kind enough to keep my brother and me company while you were gone.”

  They all turned to look at Rodrick, who had made himself comfortable in an armchair nearby, too comfortable, perhaps. He snored loudly, making Crawford snicker as Henri let out a little sigh of resignation.

  Lord Crawford’s eyes were filled with wary suspicion as he turned back to eye Alistair. He was trying to determine whether he were competition for the lady’s hand, no doubt. After all, Alistair had been the one to spread the word the lovely, vivacious lady was looking for a husband. Bloody hell. Henri seemed to note Lord Crawford’s suspicions and rushed to reassure him…while simultaneously antagonizing Alistair.

  “I was just telling Lord Colefax about that fascinating conversation we had with Admiral Oliver Lonnegan the other evening at Lady Davenport’s soiree.”

  Alistair barely bit back his growl of impatience. He’d come to this blasted event feeling like a predator on the prowl, ready to use whatever tactics necessary to distract her. What on earth had happened between then and now? For now he understood clearly what a mouse must feel like when it was being batted about by a cat.

  He eyed the cat in question. What are you getting at? He couldn’t demand answers, all he could do was rush to the worst possible conclusions. She knew something more than she ought to, but how much?

  “We were so disappointed you could not be there,” she said, with such feeling he nearly believed it himself.

  “Yes,” Lord Crawford said grudgingly. “You missed a wonderful evening.”

  “But of course we understood why you could not be there,” Henri said. “Your sister told us how you were needed at your family’s estate.” She tilted her head to the side. “I do hope there was nothing wrong.”

  The cat metaphor was entirely inaccurate. She was far more akin to a spider. Why, he could practically see the web being spun before him, and she did not even try to hide it with her cryptic, smug smile. He knew without having to ask ‘the other night’ was the same evening he’d gone to meet with his brother—nowhere near the family estate. She knew. She knew he hadn’t gone home, as he’d told Lizzie and his servants.

  But how? He narrowed his gaze and her smirk grew into a dazzling smile that made his heart leap in his chest. He didn’t know whether he wanted to shake her or kiss her. She was the most infuriating woman he’d ever met, with no respect for his privacy or her own safety. She was a danger to herself, so focused on ferreting out his secrets she gave no thought to the trouble she might stir up for herself. Her tenacity was infuriating and, well, admirable. Were she not his foe, he’d want her as his ally.

  She stared at him wide-eyed, expectantly waiting for an answer. He suspected Lord Crawford could not have cared less about his whereabouts the other night, but he too waited for some sort of response. Alistair forced himself to murmur something benign about how there was no emergency, simply some business to handle.

  There was some business that needed to be handled, certainly. That business stood before him now wearing a smug smile that drove him mad with desire and fury. It was a heady combination, to be sure. The musicians took their positions and any hopes he had of getting answers were thwarted as he watched Henri rouse her brother and then go to join the admiral, who fawned over her in a way that was unseemly.

  She spared him one last triumphant smile before taking the admiral’s arm and allowing him to escort her back to her seat.

  Chapter Five

  She ought to have known he would find her. If she were being truly honest, she might have admitted she was hoping he would find her. Honesty, however, was overrated and her heart leapt with both fear and excitement when Alistair moved from the shadows and cornered her as she waited for her carriage.

  The night had dragged on, tedious and boring, even for her, a music lover. She had not been surprised when Rodrick had disappeared, and she knew exactly where he was headed. The poor boy couldn’t go for more than a few hours without a drink and a bet. She’d told that doting old admiral he was waiting for her in the foyer, and she’d told Lord Crawford, as they stood in the foyer, Rodrick was bringing the carriage round for her as they spoke.

  He was not, but it was the easiest way to rid herself of her persistent new friends. Lord but she missed the days when she was believed to be off limits and destined for spinsterhood. Only the more desperate of society bothered her then. Though, she supposed perhaps she ought to thank Alistair. Without the admiral, she might never have put the pieces together. Not that she had all the answers, of course. However, she had enough to start. Like that hanging piece of yarn, one might give a good tug and unravel it all.

  She wasn’t ready yet to confront Alistair with her suspicions. Besides, there were other loose threads that nagged at her, and had done ever since she’d had that lengthy conversation with his sister about their upbringing and about their brother, Marcus.

  Of course, the timing of her next confrontation with Alistair wasn’t up to her. Not when he surprised her by hiding in her carriage. The door had already shut behind her when she heard a rustle of movement. She might have screamed if his hand hadn’t clamped over her mouth and his low voice hadn’t sounded in her ear, at once unnerving and soothing. “Do not be afraid.”

  Goosebumps lifted along her arms as a shiver raced down her spine. Her belly tightened with excitement, or fear, or desire…or maybe all three. Whatever it was, it was a heady mix, more intoxicating than any spirits and more tantalizing than the most lucrative bet.

  “I am not here to hurt you,” he murmured in her ear before dropping his hand and releasing her.

  “I know,” she said. She straightened beside him, turning partially to see him. The attempt was in vain, as he was well hidden in the shadows, even as the coach jerked into motion.

  “You know?”

  She thought she heard muffled laughter in his voice at her bold response. “Yes, I know,” she said. “You are a man of mystery, Lord Colefax, but not one of cruelty, as far as I’ve learned.”

  He leaned forward and now his face was in view, albeit still veiled by passing shadows. “And what is it, exactly, that you have learned?”

  She thought about prevaricating, about teasing him further. The hard glint in his eyes convinced her otherwise. “I know that you are a privateer,” she said.

  His expression and his eyes gave nothing away. He blinked once and she could practically see him shuttering his thoughts and his feelings. Then he sat back in his seat. He relaxed, the silly man.

  “It is true,” he said finally. To his credit, he did not show his relief, at least not in any overt manner. He acted the part of a man caught. He was a good actor, but not as good as her. “How did you find out?” he asked.

  She pursed her lips. If he were serious, he not only underestimated her, he thought her to be a simpleton. “It was easy enough to uncover.”

  He seemed to accept that as an answer. Shifting in the seat, he moved so he was facing her, his thigh brushing up against her skirts. The air in the coach seemed to thicken as his face became more visible, his eyes intense and piercing even in this darkness. “I suppose you can see why I would wish for that aspect of my business to be kept a secret.”

  It was an effort to stifle a sigh. She did not know whether to be irritated he thought so little of her intellect or amused by it. She also found herself wondering what he would have done if she had played along with his first attempt to divert her attention. How far would he have taken the ploy if she had said yes to his offer of entering into an illicit affair?

  She supposed she would never know, because not even her curiosity could allow her to play the fool like that. Whether it was smart or not, she had not wanted this man to think less of her. Henri certainly had not wanted
to see if he truly would seduce her to keep his secrets buried. She did not want him to think so badly of her, but more disturbingly, something in her did not want to see that sort of moral failure in him.

  Oh certainly, all men did it. No man was above the call of his base desires. She knew this to be true, yet… Yet for no reason she could logically explain, she had come to think highly of this man. This man who snuck into her carriage, who she was alone with, who would ruin her and her name if they were caught.

  Henri let out a huff of air. She’d been wrong before. He was not the fool in this carriage—that was all her. His eyes met hers and she pulled down the same sort of opaque veil he now wore. The one that hid those same foolish wishes and those carnal desires. The kind that kept her safe.

  The carriage jostled her and she barely managed to keep her seat. His arms wrapped around her waist to steady her, but when he should have pulled back, he did not. It was nearly impossible to focus on anything with the heat of his body wrapping around her, making her feel warm and safe.

  “You have found me out,” he said softly. His tone was gentler than she’d ever heard before, probably because he no longer thought her a threat.

  “You’ve gone to great lengths to hide the fact that you are a privateer,” she said.

  His eyes met hers in the dark. “It is not something I want the world at large to know.”

  “But people do know,” she said.

  “Of course. Some must.”

  “Because it is not illegal,” she said.

  His grip tightened around her and even in the dim lighting she could see the effect their closeness had on this gentleman whom she’d so wrongly believed to be cold and priggish. Her breath caught in her throat at the desire she saw there, dark and simmering beneath the surface.

  “No,” he murmured. “Not illegal.” He pulled back slightly and she was finally able to breathe again. “So you can see, I am hardly worthy of such keen interest on your part.”

  The oxygen in her lungs finally made it to her brain and she blinked at him. Was he really so stupid to underestimate her again? “I see,” she said. “But what I still do not quite understand is why you went to a tavern to meet with pirates.”

  The silence was astounding. All Henri could hear was the rapid beat of her heart as it pounded against her ribcage. His eyes never left hers and it was a battle, there was no doubt. A silent battle perhaps, but that made it no less fierce.

  It was a battle of wills like no other. Henri would not capitulate. She would not look away, not even when his eyes blazed with anger and his grip on her waist grew so tight she felt a moment of fear.

  “You had me followed,” he said.

  She blinked once, years of acting coming to her rescue as she forced a lighthearted, albeit breathless tone. “Of course not,” she said. “I followed you myself.”

  The carriage came to stop as he roared. “You did what?”

  An inexplicable urge to laugh rose up in her at his anger. She shouldn’t laugh. She wouldn’t. She bit her lip instead.

  “You could have been killed,” he said.

  My, but it was entertaining to torment this one. She’d miss this when it ended. And it would end. The urge to laugh faded away and she turned to face the door as it swung open. It was only the driver, come to help her down. The fact that he did not so much as blink at the sight of Alistair alone in the carriage with her spoke volumes about the type of life she lived. It was hardly one of a proper lady, but try telling that to Alistair.

  “Leave us,” he said, snapping at the driver.

  Her servant turned to her and she gave him a genuine smile. “Please give us a moment, Barnaby. It’s quite all right, I assure you.”

  “Yes, my lady,” he murmured, but the older man’s eyes glared at Alistair.

  When he closed the door, she turned back to Alistair. “What a lucky lady I am. Two men concerned about my safety.”

  “You think this is amusing, do you?”

  She’d never seen Alistair so agitated and yes, she did find it rather amusing. He was so upset over her safety and she knew it, which added warmth to her laughter. “Your concern is sweet, Alistair, but it is unwarranted, I assure you. I took every precaution.”

  “Every precaution?” He repeated her words as if they were foreign terms. “Did you bring that useless brother of yours? Or perhaps that dandy Lord Crawford. Is that the sort of help you sought when you entered the most dangerous depths of London?”

  She made a tsk noise. “Really, Alistair. The most dangerous depths of London? That’s rather melodramatic, don’t you think? Not to mention untrue. There are far worse neighborhoods than the docks.” She arched her brows in challenge and that made him growl. It was delightful, really. She had no idea teasing a man could be such fun.

  “You could have been killed,” he said again. “Or worse. What were you thinking?” He removed the arm around her waist so he could face her properly. He gripped her arms as though he might shake her, but instead he pulled her close. So close she could feel his breath on her cheek, but she wasn’t afraid of this man, who was so overset at the thought of her being hurt.

  “Are you so desperate for entertainment?” he demanded. “Is your life really so boring that you seek out danger?”

  He set her away from him then and she watched in fascination as his chest rose and fell as he clearly struggled for calm. “You ought to rethink marriage, Lady Henrietta. Perhaps a household to run and children to care for would keep you occupied.”

  Something inside her deflated at those words, which were crueler than he could know. It was quite possibly because it was him urging her to marry another. That was silly. It was not as though she wanted him, but perhaps she’d thought he wanted her. Perhaps she’d thought this battle between them was as intriguing to him as it was to her. However, his words quashed those ridiculous daydreams.

  She drew in a deep breath of her own and forced down the disappointment behind a smile made of ice. “Don’t be foolish, Alistair. No amount of little ones running around would give me the power I need to ensure my family’s freedom.”

  He drew back askance. “Freedom. From what?”

  She sighed. “Freedom from debt, from unwanted marriages, from dissolution. Take your pick.”

  He stared at her as though seeing her for the first time, and perhaps he was. This was the real Henrietta. The real her. Cold, calculating, and solely concerned with collecting enough power to ensure she, and her family and friends, were safe.

  His inability to understand spoke to his childhood. While she had more than a few doubts and questions about his upbringing, his inability to understand how cruel life could be to those without money left her no doubt about one thing—this was a man who had money. He always had and always would, and he never doubted it. He had never even contemplated what life could be without it.

  She’d been right all along. He was a fool.

  Chapter Six

  She was insane, clearly. Alistair studied her in the dim light and knew it without a doubt. This woman had lost her mind. That wasn’t important now, though. What was important was figuring out how much she knew. What was important was managing this situation before this insufferable lady caused any more harm—to him, his family, and most importantly, to herself.

  “What will it take to get you to quit your quest?” he asked. “What is it you need? Is it money?”

  He hadn’t been serious. He’d wanted to shame her. This woman was too good for this sort of game play. She did not so much as flinch. “That depends, I suppose.”

  “On?” Alistair asked.

  “On how much you are willing to give me.” She said it as though it were obvious. Who the hell was this woman? She walked and talked like a lady, she smiled like a lady, but she was as ruthless as a crime lord.

  He folded his arms across his chest. “Lady Henrietta, I will not be held hostage by some high-class blackmailer.” Yet again, nothing. Not so much as a wince or a flicker of regret. Sh
e was as hard as ice.

  But not always, not when he kissed her. The temptation was there, to seduce her into submission, or into distraction, at the very least. He shook off the thought. Had she not proven how dangerous she could be? Alistair needed to be rid of her. He needed to drive her away, not hold her close. She was giving him that arch look again, waiting on his response. How much would he give to be rid of her?

  The thought tugged at him, making his chest tighten and his gut sink. Safety, that’s what this was about. Her safety mattered. He leaned back with a forced casualness. “Well that depends, I suppose.”

  She folded her hands in her lap. “On?”

  “On how much you know.”

  Her lips twitched with barely-concealed amusement and he couldn’t look away. The blasted woman was enjoying this. He should have known. “Oh Alistair,” she said, her voice like a smooth, purring cat. “You have no idea how much I know. That is the point, is it not?”

  “Henri,” he said with a growl.

  “Yes, Alistair?” She smiled up at him beatifically, her eyes bright with laughter and her lips—good God, those lips. They were curved upward in sweet temptation. Bloody hell, was she trying to torture him? He acted without thinking. Nothing could have stopped him in that moment. He crushed her to him, his mouth claiming hers as if it was his right. Mine, some base part of his brain was shouting insistently. She is mine.

  She pressed herself to him with no sign of restraint. Her low moan was one of mutual need. Wonder spread through him at the thought she wanted this as much as he did. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her closer so their bodies molded together. She arched into him, rubbing against him as if to get closer still. He groaned at the intimate contact and she let out an answering gasp that drove him wild.

  Before he knew what he was doing, he’d slid her onto his lap, his mouth slanting over hers to deepen the kiss, his hands running over every part of her he could reach. She moaned her approval when his tongue slipped between her lips, tasting, testing, and exploring as though they had all the time in the world. For a moment there it felt as though they did. When the driver coughed outside the door, she pulled back and they sat there frozen and panting for air.