Beastly Lords Collection

by Baily, Sydney Jane

  He turned back. “Yes?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

  “I think you’ll be wanting this.” And she hurled the flask at him, feeling a small measure of satisfaction when it thumped against his chest. He caught it before it fell.

  “In fact, make sure you have a large glass of brandy wherever you’re going. Or better yet, an entire bottle.”

  With that, she went back into the library and slammed the door.

  Unfortunately, she’d spent all her anger, and the next emotion flooding her senses was even less pleasant.

  Placing the ring on the round oak table in the midst of her papers, she felt the heavy mantle of sorrow descend upon her. When her tears began, she feared they would never stop.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Everything seemed topsy-turvy. What had happened to his rational, sensible fiancée? Tonight, they were supposed to show London’s highest echelon they were a couple. In some ways, he had hoped—with Ada Kathryn at his side—their appearance at the premiere event in London would redeem him in the eyes of the ton, and finally, they would cease with the nasty moniker.

  Instead, Ada had been spiteful and shrewish. What’s more, she’d said she had never loved him.

  She had even seemed to believe him roaring ran-tan—on a single glass of lime juice-polluted gin! Absurd! On second thought, perhaps he’d had two glasses at Stafford House, but she had disappeared at the ball and never come back. While he’d waited, he’d accepted what the servants had offered.

  Hunching over the bar, he took another sip from the glass in front of him. More gin, and it was positively delicious. Definitely better for not having tart citrus in it.

  Why had she pretended to like him? Even to love him? What nonsense had she spouted about shattering his heart if he had one?

  He was rather unhappy to learn he had rather a large heart, and at that moment, it hurt like hell. Or it had until the gin eased his pain.

  How could a woman who in the beginning had been so cool and calm, who’d then warmed up to being his ideal wife, now become a raging scold?

  He couldn’t imagine what had caused her to be in such high dander.

  And would he truly never see Harry again? He’d come to enjoy his time with the boy. Yes, dammit, to love him even as he did the boy’s mother.

  “Well, this is a nasty turn of events!” he muttered aloud.

  Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned.

  Ah, one of the establishment’s jaded whores whom he’d tupped in the past after a long night of drinking. Or, at least, it might have been her. It had been a couple years since he’d been to this Drury Lane tavern.

  Then she smiled, displaying the familiar hole where her tooth was missing, and cocked her head toward the stairs.

  After Jenny, he used to think all women were the same, especially when on their backs, so what did it matter? He’d spent too many nights in this pub and others like it.

  Then one evening, he’d met a goddess in a gazebo, a lady scented with the most beautiful fragrance, with a golden halo of hair and translucent pale skin. After her, he’d left the bawds behind for the well-bathed Cyprians and the aristocratic widows. Until Ada Kathryn.

  “Come on, luv,” the saucy strumpet beckoned. “I ’aven’t got all night.”

  She probably did, in fact, have all night if he had enough coins on him. But he couldn’t summon an ounce of desire for her.

  “Not tonight,” he said, reaching into his pocket and drawing out a shilling.

  With a shrug, she took the money and disappeared without a thank you.

  What was he doing there anyway?

  Moreover, what was he going to do next?

  First, he was going to get out of this hell hole that smelled like piss and looked worse than it smelled. He was going home, glad his driver was somewhere close, for he wasn’t sure he could quite remember where home was.

  In the morning, he would try to recall what Ada had said and think if there was a way to win her back. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine a tomorrow without her.

  *

  It had been two days since the Sutherland’s ball. London was still abuzz with the success of it, and the papers were filled with gossip.

  Lord V had been seen, purportedly with a respectable widow, who the writer was sure wouldn’t be respectable for long if Lord V had his way. Witnesses had declared she’d left alone, as had he. No doubt they’d met up afterward, surmised Lady D and Lady M.

  Rolling her eyes at the ridiculous statements, Ada could not ignore the irony of being part of the rumors surrounding Lord Vile only after she’d broken free of him.

  And apparently no one had noticed him on the terrace with another unfortunate female, or it would surely have been mentioned.

  At least, she needn’t worry about being the widow linked to him ever again.

  And then Mr. Brunnel was shown into her parlor. She didn’t have the heart to meet him in the library, where she hadn’t done more than put the ring in a drawer of her desk before vacating the room. She could still feel her anger and sadness well up when she passed the door. Moreover, all too easily she could recall the look of bewilderment on Michael’s treacherous face.

  The devil take him! If he hadn’t already.

  “Tallow,” she told Brunnel, barely seeing him, her voice sounding as hollow as she felt.

  “Yes, missus. I’ll tell Lord Alder we’re selling all the other stocks and buying tallow.”

  She nodded and excused herself from the room.

  Her next visitor, for tea the following afternoon, was Maggie, with whom Ada didn’t wish to discuss her strange behavior at Stafford House, but had it dragged out of her nonetheless.

  “I knew it,” Maggie said predictably upon hearing her tale.

  And then Ada firmly and quickly changed the subject, unable to bear either her friend’s censure or her sympathy.

  Each day for the following week, she expected Michael to return and beg forgiveness, and also each day, she dreaded he might. Missing everything about him—his smile, his laugh, his thoughts, and especially his kiss—she could imagine forgiving him if he asked.

  Was love a terrible weakness then? It seemed so.

  “From Lady Cambrey,” Mr. Randall said, bringing her a note.

  Dearest Ada,

  Dinner at our home tomorrow at six o’clock. Please don’t say no and do bring Harry.

  Love, Maggie

  Ada sighed. Maggie was not going to let her waste away on Belgrave Square. Straightening her spine, she realized she didn’t intend to, either. The next night, in a suitably reserved dark blue gown matching her mood, with Harry and Nanny Finn in tow, Ada alighted from her carriage at the Cambrey’s townhouse. Unfortunately, to get to Cavendish Square, they’d had to cross Brook Street, not far from Michael’s home. It had stung enough to make her annoyed at Maggie for summoning her to dinner.

  Ignoring the bounds of propriety, Harry ran on ahead into the open door of the parlor whilst Ada and Nanny Finn gave up their coats to the Cambrey’s butler.

  “Chocolate,” Harry cried out excitedly, then there was a familiar laugh. Ada’s heart seemed to skip a beat.

  The thread of utter disbelief quickly wove through her mind. It simply couldn’t be.

  Feeling lightheaded with trepidation, knowing she must be imagining things—after all, this was Maggie and John, who disliked Lord Vile intensely—Ada approached the doorway.

  Then she heard his warm voice as he spoke to Harry.

  “Not until after your meal, yes?”

  “Yes!” Harry was agreeing, as she entered the room. She saw two things at once—her son was in his father’s arms, and Harry was already tearing open the chocolate bar.

  Then her gaze took in Maggie, seated, her fingers entwined, her hands in her lap. When their glances met, her best friend’s cheeks pinkened, obviously with guilt. John, looking more than a little discomfited, stood by the fireplace. Their own little Rosie was not in evidence.
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br />   Finally, after she’d looked everywhere except directly at him, when Harry called out to her, she had to look in Michael’s direction again.

  “Mama, mama. See the chocolate!” Harry’s voice was full of sheer delight.

  Her eyes met Michael’s, which were soft and beseeching.

  However, it was to Harry she spoke. “I see, dear one, but you heard Lord Alder. You can’t have any chocolate until after your supper.” Reaching out, wishing she didn’t have to get so close to Michael, she held her hand out to Harry.

  Reluctantly, he turned over the bar to her, which she gave to Nanny Finn, who stood behind her.

  “See, Nanny will keep it for you while you eat with Rosie.”

  To Michael, she said, “Set him down, please.”

  When he did, she reached for Harry’s hand and gave it a little squeeze before bending low to kiss his cheek.

  “Go with Nanny now and see your friend.”

  Nanny Finn nodded to her and took Harry away to find Maggie’s daughter in the nursery.

  Waiting until the door had shut behind them, Ada took a deep breath and turned back to face three pairs of eyes on her.

  “What have we here?” she asked, surprised at how steady her voice sounded. “It seems to be a conspiracy. Frankly,” she addressed Maggie, “you’re lucky I didn’t turn around and walk out.”

  Maggie winced, but it was Michael who answered, “Please, Ada, don’t blame them. I asked them to bring you here.”

  Sighing, wishing she could calm the fast tattoo of her heartbeat, she tried to pretend to a nonchalance she didn’t feel.

  “That I can believe,” Ada said. “Though why they would acquiesce is a mystery.”

  “I heard him out,” John spoke at last, claiming her attention. “Alder seems to be, dare I say, sincere. And as you know, for me to give him the time of day was not easy.”

  “Sincere?” Ada repeated. “In what regard?”

  “Please,” Michael said, approaching her, “I don’t need Lord Cambrey to speak for me. Only look at me and let me speak to you.”

  “Why are you doing this? And why here? Do you wish to humiliate me?”

  “No, of course not. But I must speak with you, nonetheless. I’m doing it here, because you told me I would not be admitted to your home again. And a letter at this stage seemed absurd.”

  If she could have put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes without looking like a character in a farce, she would have.

  Instead, Ada nodded. “If we are to do this in front of my best friends, then I am going to sit down.” She took a seat next to Maggie, who patted her shoulder.

  “What’s more, I’m going to have a glass of wine.”

  John moved toward the sideboard and poured her a glass of madeira. Taking it, realizing her hand was shaking, she sipped, closed her eyes, breathed deeply, then looked at Michael again.

  She noted to herself he wasn’t drinking anything. But how long would that last?

  “Shall we leave?” John asked her, looking hopeful he would be spared whatever emotional scene might follow.

  “No,” Michael declared, sharply, and all eyes turned to him. “I do not intend to embarrass the lady, and to speak frankly in front of her friends seems perfectly fitting since every other part of my life has been played out on the public stage of the gossip columns these past years. Moreover, she is less likely to throw something at me.”

  His attempt at humor fell flat, and Ada closed her eyes. She was not a creature given to violence, and even throwing his flask at him had felt abnormally vicious. She didn’t want her friends to think she was the type of person who habitually lowered herself to such actions.

  “Maggie once threw a—”

  “John!” her friend shushed her husband.

  This was getting out of hand.

  “Lord Alder,” Ada began, “why don’t you say what you wish to say before this evening descends into a travesty.”

  “All right, I will. After the other night, I was puzzled to say the least. One minute, we were having an enjoyable time and the next, you vanished only to later say strange and terrible things I cannot believe you meant.”

  Should she tell him now she most assuredly meant them?

  Before she could say anything, he crossed the distance between them and sat beside her, so she was caught between her best friend and the man with whom she’d foolishly fallen in love.

  “Not that I am in any position to inform you of your feelings, of course, nor would I presume to do so,” Michael added. “And perhaps in that instant of dudgeon in your library, you meant every word, but I don’t understand what could have caused your wrath.”

  Inwardly, Ada groaned. Was he really going to make her say it?

  Since he had fallen silent and neither John nor Maggie looked as if they were going to speak, she took in a deep breath.

  “Very well,” she said, looking straight ahead of her, feeling awkward at having him close beside her. “When I returned from meeting Maggie in the ladies retiring room and stopping by to see John, I went onto the terrace to find you. I saw you… I saw…”

  “What?” all three of them asked.

  She glanced from John to Maggie, and finally turned slightly on the cushion to face Michael.

  “I saw you with your arms around another woman. You might even have been nuzzling her neck.” Maggie gasped behind her.

  “Nuzzling her neck?” Michael sounded so confounded, she suddenly wondered if she’d seen anything at all. But, sadly, she knew she had.

  “I let you arrange this meeting, tricking Ada,” John said, his voice menacingly low, his sharp gaze focused on Michael, “because you convinced me you love her. You made no mention of another woman or her neck.”

  Michael groaned. “I didn’t know you even came outside,” he said to Ada. “I never saw you.”

  “Because you had too much gin,” she surmised. “You were stewed.” Maybe being drunk was a valid excuse for his being with another woman. Perhaps he’d been confused and thought—

  “No,” he shook his head, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m not proud to say it, but I’m an old hand at drinking, and I know how much I drank at Stafford House. I wasn’t foxed. I didn’t see you because you didn’t show yourself. Is that possible?”

  “True,” she confessed. “I didn’t make my presence known because you were—”

  “Nuzzling someone’s neck. Yes, so you said, but I refute it.”

  “Was there another woman with you?” Maggie asked.

  All at once, Michael’s expression cleared and his face broke out into a smile that made her stomach twinge.

  “I stood out there for a long time, maybe three quarters of an hour, and for all that time, I was alone, except for about two minutes when a woman came outside, rather young, too, reminded me of—” he broke off and looked at the floor, then back at her.

  “Never mind that, in any case, she mentioned going farther into the garden, and if I may say so with confidence, unlike me, she was stewed, as you said.”

  Resting his elbows on his knees, he looked reflective, dragging up the memory.

  “She needed her mother, if you ask me, or at least a trustworthy companion. Anyway, she practically fell on me, I steadied her, told her not to go beyond the light of the terrace and walked away. Because, you see, if I stood there too long, someone was bound to come upon us, and being seen with me would have ruined her reputation entirely, though I don’t even know her name.”

  Ada listened. It could have been exactly as he said. She hadn’t watched for more than a few moments before fleeing the scene.

  Michael straightened and took her hands in his, and Ada glanced over her shoulder to see Maggie watching intently. Then she looked back into his amber gaze.

  “I have absolutely no interest in any other woman. I love you.”

  Ada swallowed the emotion welling up. God help her if he was lying, but she believed him. It was as simple as that. Even though she’d said terribl
e things to him in her library, still, here Michael was, in front of her friends, including the formidable Earl of Cambrey, declaring himself.

  At last, she nodded. “I believe you. I am sorry I mistook what I saw.”

  Standing, he drew her to her feet.

  “Sadly, it’s understandable given my behavior of years past. The question is, do you think you will ever be able to trust me? I can vow my devotion to you—indeed, I have already done so—but will you be able to accept it, or will you always wonder whether I am up to no good?”

  Before she could answer, he brushed a tendril from her forehead. “It may be unmanly for me to confess, but it is downright frightening.”

  “What is?” she asked, wishing for nothing more than for him to kiss her.

  He glanced at her lips as if he knew her thoughts. “It’s frightening how with a change of heart, you will be able to destroy me.”

  Oh gracious, Ada thought as he voiced the very plan she’d come to London to enact.

  “I do think we should have left them alone,” John muttered.

  “Do be quiet,” Maggie said softly.

  Ada ignored them.

  “Since coming into my life, Michael, you have given me no cause to doubt you. I am sorry for jumping to conclusions, and I will try my best not to do so in the future.”

  “I believe that’s the best I can hope for until time proves me true. I only hope in your anger you didn’t destroy the ring or toss it into the Thames. If you tossed it into the Serpentine, then maybe we could get it back as I’m willing to roll up my trousers, but the Thames…,” he trailed off, a small smile appearing on his handsome face.

  “Oh, Michael,” she said. “The ring is safe, and I love you.”

  Then, even with spectators, his arms went around her, he lowered his head, and he kissed her. Not too long, of course, for that would be unseemly, but long enough for her to feel warmth down to her slippered toes.

  When he lifted his head, she turned in his arms to face the silent room and the blatant stares of Lord and Lady Cambrey.

  Shrugging, she said, “I’m positively famished. Is it time for dinner?”