One Naughty Night2

by Laurel McKee

  “In the stables. Servants always know what’s really going on. They say you’ve been hiding her away somewhere, that no one knows who she is.” David finished his drink and pushed himself up from the settee to go and pour another glass. He was in his shirtsleeves and riding boots and leather breeches, his hair loose over his shoulders. “Not that I’m surprised. You always have had women flocking around you, but you don’t usually go to such lengths to hide them.”

  “It’s no one’s business who I might be seeing,” Aidan answered. He was used to being the subject of gossip, but somehow it made him angry that there was cheap speculation about Lily. “Especially not the grooms. There’s nothing at all of interest going on in my life.”

  David laughed. “Ah, so there is a new lady. She must be quite fascinating if you want to keep her to yourself. Who is she?”

  “No one you know, David. But was there no lady at the assembly who caught your eye? No one who tempts you to do your ducal duty?”

  David shrugged, but a shadow seemed to drift over his face as he stared down into his glass. His long, scarred, sun-browned fingers tightened on the heavy crystal.

  Aidan sat up in interest. “So someone did catch you eye. Who was it?”

  “I don’t know her name. We were not introduced,” David said. He took a long drink. “I saw her when we came in. She was… very beautiful.”

  “Well, well,” Aidan said with a laugh. “She must have been beautiful indeed if you noticed her. You are usually off in your own strange world. What did she look like, then?”

  David shook his head, and a knock at the drawing room door interrupted the suddenly interesting conversation. The butler came in with a bow.

  “If our mother is asking for us, tell her we’re occupied at the moment,” Aidan said. David always teased him about his love life—it was time for a little payback.

  “It’s not Her Grace, Lord Aidan,” the butler said, looking strangely hesitant. “There is a… a female asking for you at the servants’ entrance in the kitchen. She says it is most urgent.”

  Aidan was intrigued. He finished his brandy in one deep swallow and put the glass down on the nearest cluttered table. “What female?”

  “She wouldn’t give her name, and she wears a veil. But she was quite insistent.”

  “That does sound intriguing, Aidan,” David said. “Is this your mystery lady showing herself at last? You had best go see what this is all about.”

  “So I shall. But our conversation isn’t over yet, David. I want to hear more about your beautiful lady at the assembly.” Aidan followed the butler down the maze of staircases and through the kitchens, which were quiet at that hour between tea and dinner, the faint scent of roasting meats and sugary baking hanging on the cool air.

  The woman hovered in the shadows just inside the door, her slender body held tense as if she would flee at any moment. She wore a purple walking dress and jacket, and a dark veil hung from her bonnet to conceal her face. When she eased it back, Aidan could see it was Celeste, one of Madame Marie’s girls.

  “He’s escaped,” Celeste said. “Tom Beaumont. And a lady named Lily came around looking for news. Marie sent me to fetch you and tell you that.”

  “What!” Aidan shouted. “Tell me what has happened. Exactly.”

  She held out the paper in her hand, and he quickly read the lurid tale of Tom Beaumont’s escape from prison. A cold, still fury settled over him as the words sank in.

  “I went to your lodgings, but the woman downstairs said you were probably here,” Celeste explained.

  “Tell me what Lily was doing at Marie’s house. Is she still there?”

  Celeste shook her head. “She wouldn’t come in, just wanted to ask the doormen some questions. Marie thinks she’s going to try and catch Beaumont herself.”

  Hell no, she will not. “And where did she go when she left? I assume Marie had her followed.”

  “To a place called the Devil’s Fancy in Mayfair. As far as I know, she’s still there.” Celeste’s stare turned speculative as she studied him. “Who is this Lily? Someone special?”

  Aidan nodded. Lily was special—and he wouldn’t risk her life by letting her run around the city after Beaumont. He had to find her now.

  The door behind them opened, and Aidan heard his brother say, “Tell me how I can help.”

  Chapter Twenty

  She was really there again. Lily could hardly believe it. Her throat felt so tight she could barely get the words out. She sat rigid on the edge of a velvet chair, her hands clutching at the gilded arms.

  She hadn’t been in Madame Josephine’s establishment for years, not since her mother’s death, and she’d thought she would never see it again. That it would only live as a memory, a place that was just a dream. Something to struggle to forget. But here she was, as if no time had passed at all. Here in her mother’s brothel, with Tom Beaumont lurking out there somewhere, she was just that feral street child again, fighting tooth and nail to survive.

  Yet back then she was completely alone. Now Aidan was with her, and that made all the difference. He kept the wild desperation inside of her at bay.

  He had found her as she paced at the Devil’s Fancy, trying to decide what her next move would be since Madame Marie’s fierce majordomo wouldn’t let her in. She had been about to come back and break into the brothel when Aidan appeared and insisted he would help her.

  Aidan prowled between the windows in the small room where they waited, his long fingers parting the heavy red velvet draperies to study the street below. He had discarded his coat, and the fine white linen of his shirt glowed in the dim light from the candles. The lean muscles of his back and shoulders were coiled and tense, as if he were ready to attack.

  “It grows dark now, and we need to rest and decide what to do next,” he said. “This is a safe place, and Marie and her girls might have information that would be useful to us.”

  Lily forced herself to sit back on the chaise and relax. She did feel tired. But being here, in the place of her childhood, filled her with a nervous energy. As did Aidan’s prowling.

  “You don’t seem to be resting, though,” she said.

  He tossed her a half-smile over his shoulder. “I’m watching to see who might be arriving.”

  Lily studied the small but luxurious chamber, the red velvet furnishings and tawny silk paper on the walls, the thick carpet on the floor, and the erotic paintings on gilded easels. Oil burners in the corners gave off a rich scent of roses and musk that was so much like the perfume her mother used to wear. From beyond the thick door, she could hear music and the silvery ring of feminine laughter. Yes, it was all much as she remembered. All that was lacking was the whistle of the whip, but that was sure to come later.

  “I doubt Marie would let the likes of Tom Beaumont near her place,” Lily said. “Not if she’s like her mother. Josephine was most particular about her clientele, and she kept her doors well guarded.”

  “Oh, Marie is every bit as particular as her mother was,” Aidan said. “And Beaumont isn’t stupid enough to show his face in this part of town. But even girls as expensive as Marie’s hear things and know people. One of them is sure to have news for us. Marie will ask discreetly and be here soon.”

  “And Marie was the one who led you to the river dredgers,” Lily said. She frowned as she studied Aidan’s expressionless face. She had the terrible feeling that she had only scratched the surface of knowing this man. She knew he had a life that was hidden from his family and the aristocratic world. What did she not see about him?

  Lily turned away from him, suddenly frightened by her longing to know him. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as if to hold him away from her. But he had already crept on stealthy feet past all her careful guards.

  “She must be a good friend to you indeed,” she said.

  “I have known Marie for some time, yes,” Aidan answered. “She’s helped me out on several occasions, and I loaned her a substantial sum when she want
ed to expand her premises last year.”

  Lily heard him move to the table where a maid had left a tray of refreshments. The crystal glasses clinked as he poured out some wine. “Is she your mistress?” she said before she could stop the words. She didn’t really want to know what Marie was to him.

  He was silent for a long moment, and she glanced up to find that he watched her closely. One of his long fingers tapped against the wine carafe.

  “No, she is not,” he said quietly. “I have no mistress. I’ve never wanted to be that… formal.”

  He walked across the room, slowly and deliberately, almost as if he feared he would frighten her away. And she did want to flee. She felt all the muscles in her body coil as if to spring away, but she could only sit there, frozen, like a hapless rabbit as the predator crept closer.

  He held out one of the glasses. “Drink this. You’ve had nothing to eat or drink all day, and it will be a long night.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and sipped at the wine. It was good, of course, French, only the best in Marie’s house.

  Aidan sat down in the chair across from hers and stretched out his long legs in front of him. He held his glass loosely between his fingers, but he didn’t drink from it, merely turned it around as the candlelight caught on the ruby-red facets.

  “Is it as you remember here?” he said.

  “Yes,” Lily answered. “Perhaps the furnishings are a bit more luxurious. Marie must have used part of your loan to decorate. I could almost think—” She broke off and shook her head. It was a mistake to think that way. So many mistakes.

  “Almost think what, Lily?” he asked softly.

  She looked at him, and suddenly she was so tired. Tired of secrets and the past, tired of fighting against everything. “I could almost think my mother would walk through that door again, that I could see her and tell her all the things I’ve wanted to all these years. I never, ever wanted to be like her, and make her mistakes.” Lily swallowed the rest of her wine, hoping the rich red liquid would give her a jolt of new courage.

  “You are not like her, Lily,” Aidan said. “You are much too strong to ever end up like her. You drive me to insanity sometimes. But I’ve never met anyone like you.”

  Lily had never met anyone like him either. She had never even imagined someone like Aidan Huntington could exist in the world. Things would be horribly dull once he was gone from her life.

  The door opened, and Madame Marie appeared there. Lily sat up straight in her chair, a shock running through her. Marie looked so much like her mother, Josephine, with bright red hair piled atop her head and a tall, buxom figure set off perfectly by a low-cut satin gown. She had the same shrewd glint in her eyes, the same hard set to her rouged mouth. But it softened when she saw Aidan.

  “So you’re still after that bastard, are you, Aidan my love?” Marie said as she closed the door behind her and set a valise down on the rug. “You don’t give up.”

  “Never, Marie. You know that. The constables can’t hold him, it seems, so someone has to take care of it.”

  Marie shook her head. “You just have a care for yourself out there—that’s all I’ll say. I know I can’t stop you.”

  “But can you help me again?” Aidan said. “Have you heard anything?”

  “I might have. Jasmine has a sister who works in a tavern down by the docks. Jasmine was all worried-like because she’s heard this sister had taken up with Beaumont after he got back to London. To get the opium, y’know. You can talk to Jasmine in a bit; she’s with a client now.” Marie suddenly turned to Lily. “And you must be Sandrine’s girl.”

  “I… yes. I’m Sandrine’s daughter,” Lily answered. It felt strange to say her mother’s name again, when it had only been a whisper of a thought for so long. She stiffened her shoulders under Marie’s steady regard.

  “It’s good to see you again, and looking so well too,” Marie said. “I’ve heard about you from Aidan. You must be somethin’ special.”

  Lily glanced at Aidan, who gave a wry smile. “I don’t know about that,” she said.

  Marie gave an unladylike snort. “Anyone who’ll go chasing after the likes of Tom Beaumont must be special. Brave or foolish, one of those. And I ain’t never heard Aidan talk about a woman like he does you. Here,” she said, tossing the valise to Lily. “Something to change into. You can’t go running into Whitechapel dressed all in silk like that, can you?”

  “Thank you,” Lily murmured. Her mind still whirled as she wondered what exactly Aidan had said about her.

  “I’ve got to go now,” Marie said. “Can’t let the likes of Beaumont get in the way of business. Someone will come to take you to Jasmine soon.” She hurried across the room in a cloud of sweet lilac perfume to grab Aidan by the shoulders and kiss his lips soundly. “You be careful, love. You hear me? My girls would go into weeping and wailing if anything happened to you, and that would definitely be bad for business.”

  “I will be careful, Marie,” he answered.

  Marie patted his cheek, smiled at Lily, and whirled back out of the room. There was a burst of laughter outside as she opened the door, and then they were closed into quiet again.

  “Love?” Lily said, watching Aidan as he wiped rouge off his jaw.

  “I told you,” he said ruefully. “We’re old friends.”

  “So it would seem.” Lily opened the valise and dug through the clothes packed there. They weren’t the fine satins Marie and her girls wore, but the garments of a dockside streetwalker. Scuffed boots, a faded red-striped skirt, a chemise with a low, gathered neckline, and a black bodice laced up the front. The theatrical side of Lily, the one that knew how to play a role, approved.

  “Need some assistance?” Aidan said.

  Lily slowly unfastened the jet buttons of her jacket. “You are quite good at playing ladies’ maid, I remember.”

  “Oh, I’m good at many, many things,” he murmured.

  She remembered that as well. Despite the dangers they faced, and the knowledge of where they were, she felt a warm shiver of awareness slide over her skin as he watched her. She laid her jacket aside and turned to let him unfasten the back of her dress.

  His fingers were deft and quick as he slid the buttons free and eased the long, tight sleeves down her arms. The gown fell to the floor in a silken whisper, and he moved to unlace her corset. As its restriction eased, she felt him trace the back of his fingers along the groove of her spine, his touch warm through the fine silk chemise he had given her.

  “Lily,” he whispered, and he bent his head to kiss her on the vulnerable nape of her neck. His lips were parted, hot as he tasted her. Lily trembled, and he tossed her corset to the floor. His hands slid around her waist and pulled her back against his body. She curved into him and cried out when his teeth bit down lightly on her bare shoulder.

  “Do you trust me, Lily?” he said against her skin. “Do you trust me to keep you safe?”

  “I trust you, Aidan,” she said, and to her shock, she realized it was true. She did trust him, did feel safe with him. Even here, she no longer had any fear. “But do you trust me? Do you trust me to work with you to find Beaumont?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I should lock you up here and not let you out until the bastard is dead. But God help me, there is no one I want by my side in any fight more than you. My fierce warrior goddess.”

  Those words meant more to Lily than anything else ever could. They trusted each other; they were together in this. For just a little while longer, she was not alone.

  She reached down for the hem of her chemise and drew it off, letting the thin silk drift to the chair. She took up the rougher cotton of the borrowed chemise and pulled it on before she could give in to temptation and spin around in Aidan’s arms to twine her fingers in his hair and draw his mouth to her naked breast.

  She handed him the black bodice and let him fit it around her waist. He drew the laces of it tight, working in silence.

  By the time she was dressed i
n the new clothes and her hair was rearranged, released from its tight, smooth coil into loose, tangled waves, the maidservant had reappeared.

  “Madame says I’m to take you to Jasmine now,” she said with a curtsy, as well mannered as if she worked for the queen. She led them out of the sitting room and into a secret passage tucked behind the main corridors.

  “Wait here, if you please,” the maid said as she ushered them into a small room. “Jasmine will be done in just a few minutes.”

  Lily slid into the chamber as Aidan followed and closed the door behind them. It was even smaller than the sitting room where they had been before, a dark space lit by one wall sconce. As she blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness, she saw a small, grille-covered opening midway up one wall that let in a bit more light. From beyond that opening, she could hear a man’s shouts of pleasure, the whistle of a whip against bare skin.

  And it seemed this room was meant to be a possible extension of the scenes in there, a place where those so inclined could watch. Lily could make out iron rings bolted to the walls, with chains hanging down from them. A table covered with a jumble of ominous-looking instruments lurked in one corner, while in the other was a velvet chaise draped with a fur throw.

  She leaned against the wall and studied it all. She thought of the assembly rooms, all those respectable-looking, morally correct people who kept on the right masks to keep their places at the queen’s court. Which of them would faint if they knew such a place existed? And which of them visited here in secret, paying Marie’s high prices for the ultimate in secret fulfillment?

  She almost laughed to imagine it all. But then she remembered Aidan’s naked, gorgeous body stretched out under her, and the laugh turned into a choking cough.

  Aidan went and peered through the little window into the next room, and a wry smile curved his lips. “I think Jasmine will be more than a few minutes,” he said. “She appears to be quite occupied for the time being.”

  Lily went to his side and went up on her toes in her borrowed boots to look through the window. Jasmine’s customer, a portly, red-faced gentleman, was bent over a brocade ottoman, his bare backside in the air. The skin was already a bright pink, but Jasmine, a tall brunette fully dressed in a stylish black velvet ball gown, still wielded the whip over him.