And he would not lose her. He could not lose her.
Conversation was limited as they hurried to ready themselves after a brisk announcement from Dunworthy that one of the Crown carriages would be there shortly. Gray blotted the dampness from both he and Lana as best he could with his cravat before tossing it into the fire. She blushed the entire time. And as they waited for Dunworthy to summon them when the carriage arrived, her cheeks remained rosy, her eyes bright. Her lips were still swollen from his kisses, making him want to possess them again.
He stirred to life in his trousers, and Gray almost chuckled out loud. The effect she had on him was astonishing. If she didn’t have to return to Brynn’s side and if he hadn’t committed to the damned Kensington ball that evening, he would have whisked her away in a heartbeat.
“Did I hurt you?”
Her flush deepened, but she shook her head. Lana held herself primly, but there was no regret on her face—nothing that would suggest she held doubts about what had happened between them. But he could see the tension mounting in her fingers as they pressed into the folds of the gown.
“Gray,” she began, and then paused. “This doesn’t change what I am or who you are. We cannot…I cannot lose my position.” She looked away. “And Brynn cannot know.”
He eyed her, amused by her efforts at formality. What had happened between them changed everything. But Gray knew the root cause of her anxiety. Any gossip would ruin her standing with his parents as Brynn’s lady’s maid, especially Lady Dinsmore, who had high hopes of making another splendid match with her only son and heir. He rolled his eyes inwardly. If his mother caught wind of where his true feelings lay, she would be appalled. And furious.
And Lana would be out on her pert little bottom without a farthing to her name and without a reference to find another position. He would support her, of course. Keep her well as his mistress. But she did not want that, he knew. What did she want? He knew only her immediate desires: for Zakorov to leave her and the princesses be. Justice for the princesses. For herself. And Lana wished to be reunited with her sister. But what more after that? A life of service?
Until he could navigate a solution, their relationship would have to be kept secret. And Gray was good with secrets. After all, he’d kept a monumental one for three years with no one the wiser. What was one extra?
Gray nodded. “As you wish.”
“Thank you.”
Her relief was obvious, and he left her to her thoughts just as Dunworthy rapped his knuckles against the door to their private room. Gray saw her into the carriage and watched her leave, feeling something unfamiliar tugging in the pit of his stomach when the carriage drew away, as if they were somehow still connected. He’d never felt like this after being with any woman…the urgent need to keep her lodged at his side. It was curious. And surprising. Then again, the more he knew of Lana, the more he came to realize just how uncommon she was. Gray recalled her unaffected kindness as she’d thanked Dunworthy and Frieda for their assistance. Even in a place of ill repute like this, she seemed to remain untouched by its underlying vulgarity.
Gray took his own leave when Colton arrived fifteen minutes later. He thanked Dunworthy and left him in possession of a hefty sack of coin. As they neared Bishop House, Gray sighed. He couldn’t be arsed about going to some ridiculous ball, but he’d promised Thorn he’d be there. In truth, he couldn’t fathom anything worse than being surrounded by elaborately coiffed maidens vying for a title and a fortune. He’d happily give up both for any chance of a future with the woman he’d sent ahead earlier. Lana was more of a lady than any of those simpering debutantes could ever be.
Striding purposefully to his chamber, he called for Harrison. The hour was already late, and he’d catch hell from his mother if he didn’t at least put in an appearance. Harrison outdid himself, putting the finishing touches on his kit within the hour, and Gray was on his way downstairs when a commotion at the front door drew his attention.
A man’s voice was shouting, “The road was closed! He came upon the carriage. Hit me in the head!”
Gray frowned. It sounded like Beckett. Which was odd. He should have been en route with Brynn to the Kensington crush. Sure enough, Beckett’s thatch of red hair loomed into view. Blood dripped down his face from a gash in his head, and Gray’s stomach dropped. He took the stairs four at a time, nearly crashing into the small crowd of servants surrounding the coachman. They cleared a path for him, his fear solidifying at the terrified look on Beckett’s face.
“What happened?” he demanded. “Where is Lady Briannon?”
“He took her—” Beckett broke off as Gray grabbed his lapels.
“What do you mean? Who took her?”
“The Masked Marauder, my lord.” Sobs broke from the man. “I woke up, and they were gone. She was gone.”
Gray’s heart stilled. The Masked Marauder had already been taken into custody. Or someone had. “Are you certain it was the Masked Marauder?”
Beckett nodded. “Yes, my lord. I’m certain of it.”
“Where? Which street?”
“Near Orchard Street, my lord.”
“Oh my God, Lady Briannon!” The agonized cry was from Lana, who had just arrived, her hands clasped to her mouth.
“My lord.” Braxton stepped forward, his steadfast composure visibly shaken. “I do not know if it will help at all, but His Grace, Lord Bradburne, called upon Lady Briannon shortly before she departed for the Kensington affair.”
Gray peered at him, a scowl fixed upon his face as his mind grasped for answers. “They left together for the ball, then?” He shot a look at Beckett who quickly shook his head.
“No, my lord,” Braxton answered before the driver could speak. “His Grace left mere minutes before Lady Briannon.”
Gray’s knuckles ached from the tight fists he’d formed at his sides.
“Why the hell wouldn’t he have gone with her?” he asked. “Why let her travel alone?”
He didn’t have time to pick apart all the answers. Gray started for the door, but Lana’s hand landed on his forearm, halting him.
“The Bradburne diamonds.” Her voice had dropped to a strained whisper, and when Gray turned back to her, he saw her eyes were distant, as if she was piecing together a memory. “She spoke so much about those diamonds. She told everyone she planned to wear them tonight. It was so unlike her. My God, I think she wanted to attract the criminal.” She shook her head, her eyes going wide with alarm. “So this is why she wanted me to—”
Gray’s stare narrowed on her. He dispersed the rest of the servants with a quick word, issuing clipped orders to Mrs. Braxton to take care of Beckett and for Colton to ready the carriage. He’d hunt the man down to hell and back. But first, he had to know what Lana had been about to say. He drew her to the nearby salon and closed the door, noticing briefly from the ends of her damp hair that she, too, had bathed and changed.
“What did Brynn want you to do, Lana?” he asked urgently.
Indecision flicked across her face before she drew a shattered breath. “She said she wanted to go to the ball alone, without you as an escort, so she asked me to distract you for the afternoon.”
Gray’s temper spiraled. “Distract me? Why?”
Lana was wringing her hands, as if shouldering some of the blame. “I thought she wanted a few stolen moments to meet His Grace. I didn’t think anything of it.” She glanced at him. “You have had a tendency to be overbearing when it comes to the duke.”
But why wear the diamonds? And why would she want him out of the way? Gray considered the facts he knew. Rumors of Hawk’s impending arrest had been circulating the ton before Bow Street had managed to get some unnamed gentleman in custody. He frowned. If Beckett were right and the Masked Marauder had attacked Brynn’s carriage, then that meant the man in custody was the wrong man. What on earth had possessed Brynn to draw the Masked Marauder out? The little fool!
He ground his teeth. It wasn’t Lana’s fault, he knew, des
pite wanting to throttle the pair of them. “Did she say anything more?”
“No.” Her voice shook. “I didn’t think she would do anything so rash.”
“My sister is the master of asinine plans.” Gray frowned. “If she met with Hawk before leaving here alone, he might know something more.” Whether Hawk had next gone home or to the Kensington Ball was unknown. Surely he wouldn’t have known of Brynn’s harebrained scheme? “My first stop will be at Hadley Gardens, and then I’ll try Thorn’s home. I swear, if this bandit has laid one finger on my sister, I’ll put him into the ground.”
“I am coming with you.”
“No, it’s far too dangerous.”
Her chin jutted forward. “As dangerous as a gaming hell in north London?” she asked in a silky voice. “I am coming whether you allow it or not. I will follow on horseback if I have to.”
“And if I forbid it?” he said tersely, a muscle jerking in his jaw.
Lana met his stare. “That will not stop me.”
He knew it would not. The woman was as insufferable as his sister.
“Fine. Do as you will.” He pocketed his pistol from Lord Dinsmore’s gun case and strode to the front door, where Colton was waiting. “Summon the constable,” he told Braxton. “If we are not back within the hour, find my father.”
They rode to Hadley Gardens in stony silence, each occupied by their own thoughts. When Gray got his hands on Briannon, he was going to make sure she didn’t sit for a week. He didn’t wait for the carriage to come to a stop at Hawk’s residence before leaping out. “Do not for one second consider leaving this coach,” he snapped to Lana, the warning in his voice little more than a growl. She nodded, an eyebrow vaulting at his tone.
Gray ran up the steps and knocked loudly, waiting impatiently until the butler opened the door. “Good evening, Lord Northridge.”
“Heed,” Gray said. “Is the duke at home?”
“No, my lord, he left for Lord Thorndale’s function two hours past.”
Two hours? Gray’s head spun. Was he at the Kensington Ball, then, none the wiser that his betrothed was in danger? Again, Gray’s fury and confusion ran rampant. Why would Hawk not have escorted her himself after calling in at Bishop House? Had they quarreled? “Thank you, Heed. If he returns, please send a messenger to my residence at once.”
“Of course, my lord.”
Gray nodded and returned to the carriage, mapping out possible routes. Beckett had said they had been forced to stop at Orchard Street because of a blocked road. It was odd. The Masked Marauder did not kidnap victims, and yet, Beckett had insisted the bastard had taken Brynn. He’d drive toward Orchard Street on his way to Thorndale’s. He would need more help if he was going to find his sister.
Gray took one step onto the carriage rail when a muffled crack rang out from behind him. He froze. It had sounded close and too much like a pistol shot. Lana’s terrified face appeared in the carriage doorway, and he reassured her with a tight smile. “It’s probably nothing, but I’m going to have a look. Sounded like it came from the direction of the mews.”
Lana placed a hand on his sleeve, her heart in her eyes. “Gray, please be careful.”
“I will.” He glanced at Colton. “Are you armed?” The coachman nodded. “Good. Shoot anyone wearing a mask who comes near this coach. Guard her with your life, do you understand me?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Unable to place the exact location of the shot, he took off at a cautious run through the back lawns of Hadley Gardens, making his way through the shadows and expecting to be waylaid by a masked bandit at any moment. His pulse was racing. He knew what he’d said to Lana, but it was too much of a coincidence. Gray combed his way through the hedges until he came to a courtyard. Houses lined either side of it, and before him were the mews. He could see shadows moving from the lamplight.
That had to be it.
He was already preparing himself for the worst when he heard a distinctly female voice coming from the depths of the stables. “We were never friends,” the voice was saying. Gray frowned. He knew that voice.
He edged forward, keeping to the darkness, and peered through a crack in the window. He almost rushed in at the sight that greeted him: Brynn stood in a torn dress, a bruised and bloodied Hawk at her side, with Eloise, the duke’s half sister, pointing the short barrel of a gun toward them. Gray had always suspected Eloise was a bit unstable, but here was the undisputed truth.
He inched closer to the stable door, Hawk’s raised voice masking his approach. Gray was steps away from her.
“Shut up!” Eloise screamed. “Or I will drop your precious love like a fly.”
His heart pounded at the threat to Brynn, but here was his opportunity. Eloise was angry and distracted. Gray slid forward in one quick movement, raising his own pistol to Eloise’s temple and divesting her of the gun in the same motion. “I’ll take that, thank you.”
“Gray, how did you find us?” his sister said, locking her wild eyes with his.
“Lana told me everything, and Hadley Gardens was my first stop to find you when I heard the shot.” With his free hand, he managed to relieve Eloise of her gun, but she was too quick and whirled out of his grasp.
“Don’t hurt her,” Hawk said, even as Gray kept his pistol trained on Eloise, where she now crouched behind a saddle stand. “Get Brynn out of here,” Hawk added, pushing Brynn toward him. “I will take care of it.”
“I have Lana in the carriage outside. Come,” he told his sister.
“No, Archer,” Brynn cried out. “I won’t leave you.”
“It’s over, love. She can’t hurt anyone now.” Hawk’s face was pained as he walked toward them to kiss Brynn on the temple. His eyes met Gray’s, and Gray nodded, handing the duke his pistol before ushering his sister out of the mews.
Gray wrapped her in his cloak, holding her trembling body close, and then scooped her into his arms. He wanted to put as much distance between them and the stables as possible. Lana’s eyes were wide when they arrived at the carriage and Gray tucked Brynn into the seat beside her. As Gray made her more comfortable, Brynn explained what had transpired—that Eloise had been in league with the masked bandit.
“Did Eloise hurt you?” he asked Brynn, anger rising in him at the bruised welt on her temple.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Archer—”
“Hawk can take care of himself, Brynn,” Gray assured her.
He was floored by the naked emotion on his sister’s face. He hadn’t believed that she loved the man, but he knew it now. Her feelings for him were written all over her. As Hawk’s had been in the mews.
Gray’s eyes met Lana’s over Brynn’s head, and something terrifying took him in its grasp. He couldn’t fathom what he would do if anything happened to either of the two women sitting across from him. If it had been Lana standing at the end of a gun, he would have moved heaven and earth to protect her.
Thrown himself in front of the bullet if he had to.
Gray closed his eyes. There it was: the simple and irrefutable fact. He loved her.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next handful of days unfolded at a slug’s pace and yet somehow also like a summer tempest. Lana did not leave her mistress’s side as they prepared for their retreat from London. It had been decided quickly that Lord and Lady Dinsmore and Lady Briannon could not remain in town after Lady Eloise’s funeral. Not only would they be made to weather the scrutiny revolving around Lady Eloise’s death and that of the Masked Marauder in the Hadley Gardens mews, but also the very public and very humiliating retraction of Archer and Brynn’s betrothal in the Times.
Brynn had shrugged it off. Lana knew the engagement had been a farce, intended only to protect Archer from being considered a suspect. But that night in the mews, when a second gunshot had split the night, Brynn’s fear that Archer had been killed had nearly driven her to hysteria. Gray had needed to restrain her from rushing back into the mews, the light of a building fire flicke
ring inside. And when Archer had finally emerged, shouting for Gray’s help to extinguish the flames that Eloise had set, Brynn had sobbed with relief.
She loved Archer, but she was not going to marry him.
Lana understood entirely and shared in the solemn pall that hung over Bishop House the next few days. As she folded and wrapped each article of clothing, every accessory, every shoe, Lana thought of what had happened at that indecent gaming hell. On that decadent purple couch. Underneath the most exasperatingly handsome and charming man she had ever known.
At that moment, Brynn swept into the room from the adjoining bath chamber, where Mary had been assisting her in her morning ablutions, and jerked Lana from her heated thoughts. Lana ducked her head, hoping to hide her flushed cheeks, but of course, that did not escape Brynn’s notice.
“Is something amiss, Lana? You haven’t been yourself lately.” Brynn shook her head. “Not that any of us are, but…you do seem distracted.”
Oh, it’s nothing, Lana imagined herself answering. I simply can’t stop thinking about how your brother made love to me in a gaming hell a few days ago.
Lana nearly smiled at how ridiculous and wrong it all sounded. And yet, being with Gray hadn’t felt wrong at all. He’d said something to her when she’d taken in the sight of his impressive, and a bit alarming, length with a shiver of fear. Our bodies are meant for this. They were meant to come together. To share in one another. They had, and it had been an exquisite union. Now she couldn’t get the notion that her body had been meant for his, and his body for hers, out of her mind.
She had given herself to him. Her body. Her trust. And, though she felt like a fool even thinking it, her heart. She didn’t regret a moment of their time at The Cock and the Crown. She didn’t regret any moment with Gray at all, come to think of it. The only thing she regretted was not being able to stop herself from falling in love with him.
She was in love with Gray. And it was going to be a disaster.
Not that she could tell Lady Briannon any of this.
Mary curtsied and took her leave while Lana put aside the folding. She then retrieved a comb and the hot iron for her mistress’s hair. “Don’t trouble yourself, my lady. I’m sure I’m just a little shaky from my interview with Mr. Thomson yesterday.”
My Darling, My Disaster (Lords of Essex) Page 27