When the door creaked opened, laughter and music wafted past him to tumble out onto the street in a gust of unbridled merriment.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” the butler greeted him with a bow. His head, as smooth as a billiard ball, shone in the candlelight like a highly polished pearl above his serious bulldog face. “Come to collect your American friend, have ya'?”
“Yes, Finch, I have,” Hunter said, stepping inside. “If it’s anything like last night, I’ll probably need your help.”
“He’s not as bad as all that tonight, Your Grace.” Finch grinned, displaying huge wolf teeth. “Suzette’s done her best to sweat most of the brandy out of him.”
“Good evening, Your Grace.” Madame Rousseau beamed, rustling into the foyer in a swirl of yellow silk. “I am very sad to say Valentina is occupied, Cherie.” She patted her mass of chocolate curls then gave a long exaggerated sigh. “It is a very busy night, mon chere, so when your friend said you had business to attend to…” She spread her expressive hands apologetically. “Perhaps Rita or Clarice will do. They do not have the experience you like, but they are both eager obedient girls. You will not be disappointed.”
“I’m sorry, Simone, I can’t stay tonight. I’m here to collect my friend. So if you could tell Mr. Macintosh I’m here.”
Her lovely delicate features showed disappointment, her full lips turning down in a pout. “Yes, of course, I will send him out.”
A few moments later, Alex appeared in the doorway with a cheroot in one hand and a lazy smile plastered across his face. Suzette, a voluptuous brunette in blue, hung draped over his shoulder like a silky pelt. “Come on! Aren’t you coming in?”
“I gather you’ve forgotten our meeting with McTavish in the morning.” Important business to be concluded before Alex returned to Charleston. How in the world could he forget?
“Damn!” Alex ran a hand through his tossed blonde hair. “I had forgotten. You certainly know how to ruin a perfectly good evening, Wallshire.” Alex turned to Suzette. “You’ll have to excuse me, sweetheart. I need my rest before I lock horns with that old jackal.” After one last taste of her apple lips, he grabbed his coat from Finch. “One more at the club and I’ll sleep like a babe.”
“Another sniff of the cork and you’ll fall to the floor.” Hunter shook his head ruefully. “Oh, very well, come on.”
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” Alex said as soon as they’d climbed into the carriage. “I thought you’d be busy questioning the fairy from the garden.”
“Somebody has to save you from yourself.”
Alex gave him a look of mock-innocence. “What! Saving me once wasn’t enough for you. Besides, when have I ever missed a business meeting?”
“You haven’t.”
Alex grinned. “The trouble with you, Wallshire, is that you’re too damn suspicious.”
“You’re not exactly giving me a high standard to go by here.”
“I know, I know.” Alex rubbed the day old stubble on his chin. “Close that window would you please.” Alex said, rubbing his arms with his hands. “It’s giving me a chill.”
“No.”
“You need to get over this thing you’ve got—fear of closed spaces—whatever it is, before you make me sick.”
Hunter stiffened. “It isn’t a fear. I simply require fresh air.”
“Bollocks! Your cousin locked you in a trunk as a child. You can’t breathe in closed spaces. You admitted it that night in Charleston when you were so foxed you spewed until you couldn’t spit. I know. I was there.”
Hunter declined to answer. How Alex remembered he did not know. They’d both smoked so much hashish all Hunter could remember was the red lips of one of Celine’s girls clutching a pipe, with her copper head framed in a ring of smoke.
“Sorry,” Alex said, sounding not the least contrite. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. But, you know London doesn’t agree with me.”
“And neither does anyone in it.” Hunter rolled his eyes heavenward. What was he, a priest? “But drinking yourself into oblivion and bedding every tart you can lay your hands on, isn’t going to change that.”
Alex cocked him a lopsided grin. “No, but it sure makes me feel a damn sight better.” He heaved a great sigh. “Anyway, here I am. You’ve saved another strumpet from waking in the morn with aching thighs. Ha! Who else’s destiny have you changed this night?”
“I questioned the little minx, if that’s what you mean.”
“And, is she the deprived villain you imagined?” Alex’s volley of laughter reverberated throughout the carriage. “You have too much time on your hands, my friend. Why don’t you follow Liverpool’s urging and make a bid for your father’s seat in the house.”
“I told him I’d consider it in the future.” Alex nagged like a woman when he wanted. “Right now I have other more important matters to attend.”
“Apparently Lord Galloway is planning to make a bid for the seat, and the Prime Minister is none too pleased about it.” Alex pulled a silver flask from the inside of his frock coat.
Hunter snatched it from his hand. “That’s because Galloway opposed Liverpool’s campaign to abolish slavery in the colonies. He’s profited indirectly, but nonetheless, handsomely in the slave trade.”
“And you think this is all about Lord Galloway protecting his reputation.” Alex made a grab for the flask.
Hunter tossed it out the window. “Galloway’s political aspirations would certainly be compromised should any information come to light that smeared his family’s reputation. I’ll wager it’s not a coincidence the manor was broken into on the eve of my return.”
The carriage stopped, signaling their arrival at Brook’s.
“One drink,” Hunter told him firmly. “And we’re not playing cards.”
An hour later they were still playing cards.
However, the evening wasn’t a total loss. There was a very interesting dialogue taking place at the table next to them. Hunter overheard enough of the conversation between Fabian Hamilton and the younger Lord Herrington to raise his suspicions further. Though engaged in a game of hazard, Hunter was able to give the matter his ear while Alex stacked his ivory counters.
Having finished, Alex leaned toward him, drink in hand. “Still preoccupied with the intruders?”
“You might say that. There isn’t a doubt in my mind what they were looking for.”
“The letter? Well, you and I both know they’ll never find it.”
Hunter smiled ruefully, but declined to say more in the crowded, smoke-filled room where they might be overheard.
During the carriage ride back to his town house in Berkley Square, Alex brought it to his attention again. “What are you brooding about? You’ve been uncommonly thoughtful since we left the club.”
“It seems the nymph you accosted in the garden the other night has a veritable horde of admires panting at her skirts.”
“Of course she does, I have impeccable taste.” Alex grinned. “I was on my way to wooing her myself until you stepped in like some sword-wielding knight.”
“Wooing her!” Hunter sent forth a hoot of laughter. “Like a rutting hound, you mean. Had I not come along you’d have mauled her to death.”
Alex gave him a mock-injured look. “Some women like that, I’ll have you know.”
Despite great effort, Hunter’s voice held contained laughter. “A well paid one will put up with anything, I’d wager.”
“Are you warning me off?” Alex leaned back in the seat, arms across his chest. “I did see her first.”
“Judging from the haughty disdain she leveled at me tonight, I doubt very much it’s an issue. She’s all yours if you can fight your way through the droves of gentlemen already vying for her hand. I should warn you though, Galloway is bent on marrying her to his son, and speaking from personal experience he’s rather aggressive in his tactics.”
“Yes, a nice bit of treachery you’re not liable to forget.”
“Suffice it to say, it was a costly lesson that gave me a healthy respect for the manipulations of women.”
Alex shook his head. “So young, yet so bitter.” He pulled a second flask from his waistcoat pocket. “Here have a snort, you’ll feel better.”
Hunter accepted the silver flask. He took a long swig, enjoying the heat of the brandy as it slid down his throat. “Nothing would give me more pleasure than seeing the Hamilton girl snatched from under Galloway’s nose. According to Lady Carlisle, her father left her a small fortune as well as a hefty dowry. Galloway must be fairly itching to bring her into his fold and secure his son’s fortunes.”
Alex made a choking sound in the back of his throat. “Look, I said she was damnably beautiful, I didn’t say I was willing to marry her!”
“You have to marry eventually. What’s the matter, the crème of the English aristocracy too much for you?”
“Just now it is.” Alex coughed louder, trying to catch his breath. “Listen, I don’t mind helping out a friend, but that’s a trifle much to ask, don’t you think, especially from someone who runs from commitment at the first sign of affection?”
“If you’re speaking of Claire, that wasn’t affection, it was obsession, which, might I remind you evaporated completely after I’d settled a substantial amount of money on her.” In the beginning he’d been quite taken with Claire’s dark beauty and voluptuous figure. It was her clinging, possessive disposition that bored him to death. He couldn’t abide a woman hanging off him like a dependent child. It had been a mistake getting involved with her in the first place. He’d had a devil of a time getting rid of her.
At first she’d refused the money, declaring her love was not for sale. She’d clung to him with all of her strength, weeping pitifully until he’d raised the amount of the settlement. Then, miraculously her eyes had cleared, and her pouting mouth had turned up in an eager smile—conniving minx. Such transparent greed sickened him on the one hand, but on the other he understood her need for survival.
Alex grinned, his perfect white teeth gleaming in the dark interior of the carriage. “Avarice is a potent motivator. Money can change a mind better than any rational argument. I’m not saying you shouldn’t have cut the cord, but you could have at least put in a good word for me.”
Hunter let go a snort, “Be my guest.” Alex had an insatiable appetite for variety where women were concerned. He loved women, just not any woman in particular. Since they’d known each other over the past four years he’d had an endless stream of liaisons. They were much alike in that respect, except unlike him, Alex fully intended to marry and have a family when he met the right woman. Hunter did not. Right now his shipping business was his prime concern.
They’d pooled their resources and bought their first ship together after the war. The investment proved to be a success. They bought another, split their profits, and each went their separate ways. It was amazing to look back now at their unlikely friendship, considering they’d fought on opposite sides of the war.
Had they not known one another so well, Hunter would never have had the outlandish idea of Alex snatching the Hamilton girl from beneath Lord Galloway’s nose. Nor would Alex have felt comfortable enough to tell him to go to hell.
Still, the idea held some merit.
Although… she need not marry to put her from Galloway’s grasp. If he felt her tarnished in any way, she’d be of no use to his family. Lord Galloway sought social affluence above all else. The money wasn’t nearly as important to him as her impeccable pedigree, which would be deemed impotent without her reputation.
If only he were devoid of conscience.
It would be a sweet irony to have Galloway’s son’s match spoiled in the same way he’d tried to force a match for his daughter.
***
Kay studied the long list of delicacies on the menu card set in the silver holder before her. The turtle soup they enjoyed would be followed by salmon, roast beef, and partridge. For dessert there would be filberts, figs, and lemon ice. She wished she could do justice to the grand dinner Vivian’s parents were hosting, but the threatening presence of the Duke seated at the other end of table had vanquished her appetite.
Instead, she sat poised on the edge of her seat, ready to flee.
Had she known he’d be attending the engagement party, she’d have declined the invitation. After all, it was Vivian’s brother, Frederick, who was getting married, not Vivian. But, Vivian hadn’t mentioned the Duke had served in the navy with her brother, so she’d had no inkling he’d be offered an invitation.
Fortunately, Vivian had been placed next to the Duke. Her lively chatter took up most of his attention. Kay sat next to Lord Herrington who had stepped up his bid for her hand with painful intensity. She wanted to choke Uncle Fabian for encouraging him. Apparently Fabian had warned him of Charlie’s interest, advising him to make his position solid before it was too late.
And Kay feared she was destined to hear Herrington’s passionate offer before the night was through.
As Fabian had made other plans and left her in the care of Vivian’s parents for the evening, she wouldn’t even have the satisfaction of giving him a proper scolding. Her only hope of avoiding any embarrassing confidences from Lord Herrington was to give her attention to Vivian’s younger brother, Henry, seated to her left.
Henry had the unbridled energy of a puppy, and a tongue that rivaled Vivian’s. He spoke so quickly, most of the time Kay couldn’t understand what he was saying. It was an effort to stay focused, especially with the Duke sitting only a few yards away.
Kay ate little, while Henry gazed upon her with rapt adoration throughout his animated tirade. The hum of conversation mingling with the clink of crystal and the clang of silver seemed to ebb and recede like the pulse of the flames on the candles in the silver candelabras. But fear prevented her from appreciating the glittering table strewn with bowls of red and yellow roses down the middle. All she could think of was getting away.
At one awful moment, she chance to glance up and find the Duke’s eyes upon her.
A queer shudder rippled through her. Her skin grew hot, the frothy white silk gown trimmed with silver she wore, no doubt magnifying her guilty flush. She turned back to Henry, tipping the last of her champagne down her throat.
When the ladies removed to the drawing room, leaving the men behind to drink their port, she wasted no time in seeking out Vivian to plead a headache.
“Isn’t he delicious?” Vivian gushed as they made their way out into the foyer. “So handsome, so charming. I could just eat him up.”
“Who?” Kay replied breathlessly, snatching her blue velvet cloak from the footman with a smile of thanks before he could set it about her shoulders.
“The Duke, of course.” Vivian hurried to keep up, her jonquille yellow gown swishing furiously in her haste. “He’s the crack, don’t you think? No, commanding, that’s the word.”
“I can think of another word.” Kay said, as they slipped outside to await her carriage. The wide stone steps flanked with stone planters, spilling ivy and white roses seemed to close around her, while her heart raced. “Ruthless.” Either Vivian wasn’t aware of the scandal, or she didn’t care, as was the case with so many of the young Debutante’s clambering after the Duke. “He’s not the sort of man to trifle with.” Kay placed a hand on Vive’s arm, looking into her nut brown eyes intently. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
“Very well.” Vivian stared back at her, mouth agape, obviously taken aback by Kay’s serious tone. “I hadn’t planned on throwing myself at his feet.”
“Good.”
“Though I’m certain you’re overreacting,” Vivian said with a disappointed pout. “He can’t be as bad as all that.”
“Take my word for it, he is.” Kay stepped away, sucking in a long breath of the balmy night air, spiced with marigolds and roses. “Where on earth is that driver?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” Vivian’s voice quivered with exci
tement. “I’ve convinced Mama to take me with her to Paris. We’ll be there at the same time you’ll be visiting your Grandmere. So you see, we shan’t be separated at all. We’ll be there within a week of your arrival and be attending the same functions. What do you think?”
Kay’s heart swelled. “I think that’s marvelous!” She gave Vivian a tight hug. “Grandmere will be grateful for an extra chaperon.” Lady Marjorie was strict in many ways but she loved the heady whirl of society. Since she’d married very young, she was determined Vivian experience as much freedom as possible before she made a match. She’d make the perfect alternate chaperone, when Grandmere wasn’t unavailable—even if she didn’t approve of champagne.
Kay couldn’t wait for her visit to France. The gayety of Paris would be like a breath of fresh air after so many stuffy London drawing rooms. Being able to share it with Vivian would make it all the more perfect.
The creak of the front door opening turned them both around.
Kay’s breath caught in her throat, at first sight of the Duke.
Vivian must have missed her chagrined expression. “Your Grace! You’re just in time to see Lady Katherine to her carriage. I’d better get back inside before I’m missed.” Then with a short wave she was gone.
Kay tried to ignore his slow, bold glance, seeming to take in every inch of her. “Lady Katherine.”
She gave him a tight smile, ignoring the arm he offered. She had no intention of giving him an opportunity to question her further. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” Without waiting for a reply, she hurried down the steps to the carriage. But before the driver could hop down from his perch the Duke was there to open the door.
Kay’s startled gaze flew to his face.
A lazy smile lingered on his perfectly formed lips. His brandy eyes glittered threateningly. He reminded her of one of the panthers she’d seen at the zoo—beautiful, sleek, and ready to pounce. She accepted his assistance into the carriage with reluctance, expecting him to close the door after her.
Instead, to her horror, he climbed in behind her, seating himself on the seat across from her.
The Thief and the Rogue Page 5