“What did you say?”
“Nothing of importance. Come along.” Pausing to yank open the doors, Edmond shoved his cousin onto the stone balcony that overlooked the small garden, and pulled the door shut behind them.
Both men shivered as the thick fog swirled through the air before cloaking them in its clammy chill.
“Bloody hell.” Hunching his shoulders, Howard glared at the torches set on the balustrade, making a dismal attempt to fight back the darkness. “English weather at its finest.”
Edmond silently agreed. Even accustomed to the brutal weather that Russia could offer, this clinging dampness was unpleasant to endure. Still, it kept the other guests warmly tucked in the town house and allowed them a few moments of privacy.
Taking a moment to light a thin cheroot with one of the torches, he turned back to study his cousin’s petulant expression.
“Perhaps you will be kind enough to explain why you wish to plant me a facer?”
“Ha. You know very well why.”
Edmond shrugged, turning so he could watch the dim light play over his companion’s shadowed features.
“I presume it has something to do with my recent engagement?”
“By God, of course it does.”
“Surely you must have known that I would eventually wed? After all, the most important duty of a Duke is to produce an heir.”
Running a hand through his untidy hair, Howard laughed with bitter amusement. “To be honest, I hoped you were the sort who possessed a dislike for women. I mean, you have left it rather late in the day to be littering the world with little Huntleys.”
Edmond stiffened at the insult to his brother’s manhood. Mon dieu, he should toss the bastard over the balustrade and be done with him. Unfortunately he first needed to make certain that Howard Summerville was responsible for the attempts on Stefan’s life.
“And you thought if I possessed an aversion to women, you might be a step closer to the title?” he grated.
“What? Don’t be daft. Even if you never bother to have brats, your aggravating brother is bound to. No one could believe Edmond dislikes women.”
Edmond swallowed an exasperated curse. Was the man cunning enough to realize that he was suspected of Stefan’s mysterious accidents?
It seemed highly unlikely, but what other explanation could there be?
“Then why are you angered by my engagement?” he gritted.
“Because you made a damned fool of me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Howard swayed, as he tilted back his head to glare into Edmond’s face.
“Why the devil did you tell me you had come to London to enjoy the entertainments? You could at least have given me a hint to your true intentions.”
Edmond frowned. “I was not yet prepared to reveal my interest towards Miss Quinn.”
“Well, you made me lose a bloody fortune,” Howard groused.
“What the blazes are you babbling about?”
“The betting book at White’s.” Howard struggled to remain upright. “The odds were fifty to one that you had traveled to London to choose a bride. Had you given me even the slightest clue, I should have made a tidy return. As it is, I lost twenty quid.”
“That is why you are angry? Because you wanted to bet on my engagement?”
“It was also rude.” Howard futilely attempted to smooth his wrinkled lapels. “Whether you choose to acknowledge the connection or not, I am your cousin. I should not be the last to discover you have selected your bride.”
Edmond rolled his eyes toward the foggy heavens. “Christ.”
BRIANNA WAS PLEASANTLY surprised to discover that, while Lady Montgomery’s guests were naturally anxious to meet the woman who had managed to capture the elusive Duke of Huntley, they were polite enough not to crush her in one great stampede.
Indeed, after situating Brianna and Lady Aberlane on a pretty brocade sofa near the center of the long salon, Lady Montgomery had taken care to ensure that no more than two or three were ever allowed to linger before being gently urged toward the refreshment tables.
The carefully choreographed introductions allowed Brianna to easily recall the various responses she had rehearsed over the past few days and to deflect the more impertinent queries. It also left far too many opportunities for her attention to stray toward the dark, magnificent gentleman who moved with such ease among the crowd.
No matter how hard she attempted to put her aggravating fiancé from her mind, she was vibrantly aware of his every movement. It was as if every other person in the room faded to insignificance, leaving Edmond to shimmer with a potent, relentless force that demanded her unwavering attention.
Aggravating wretch.
Of course, it was that inability to ignore his presence that allowed her to track his deliberate path across the room to confront the thin, dark-haired gentleman in the corner of the room. Her brows lifted as she realized that she recognized the obviously tipsy gentleman.
Spreading her fan with a flick of her wrist, Brianna covertly leaned toward Lady Aberlane to whisper beneath her breath.
“Good heavens, is that Howard Summerville?”
Following her glance, the older woman offered a small nod of her head. “Yes, I believe it is.”
Brianna narrowed her gaze. Lady Aberlane should be as astonished as Brianna at the man’s presence. After all, the entire ton knew that the Duke of Huntley refused to be beneath the same roof as his cousin.
Which begged the question of just how deeply Lady Aberlane was involved in Edmond’s nefarious plans.
“I thought the two families were at odds with one another,” Brianna whispered. “Something like the Capulets and Montagues.”
Her companion gave a flutter of her hands, although Brianna did not miss the swift glance toward Edmond, who was leading the drunken Howard toward a far door.
“Oh, certainly nothing so dramatic,” she murmured.
“No?”
Lady Aberlane smiled wryly at the direct challenge. “Well, I suppose it is true that Stefan and Edmond hold little love for their cousin.”
“So why are they walking together as if they are bosom buddies?”
“That, my dear, I cannot say.”
“Hmm.” Closing her fan with a snap, Brianna rose to her feet.
“Brianna, where are you going?”
A smile of pure determination curved Brianna’s lips. “It is rather stuffy in here, do you not think? I believe I will step onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air.”
Lady Aberlane reached up to lay her hand on Brianna’s arm. “Do you truly think you should disturb them, my dear? Your fiancé may have business to discuss with his cousin.”
Brianna narrowed her gaze. “What sort of business?”
“The sort he does not desire to be interrupted.”
Which meant it was precisely the sort of business that Brianna wanted to interrupt. Or more exactly, the sort she wanted to overhear.
Somehow, someway, she intended to discover Edmond’s secrets, and when she did, she would put an end to this ridiculous engagement and be safely on her way to Meadowland.
“Then he should not conduct his business in the midst of a soiree,” she quipped, turning and marching directly toward the door.
TOSSING ASIDE HIS CHEROOT, Edmond grasped the cold, damp stones of the balustrade, glaring into the dark shadows of the garden below.
Mon dieu.
Either Howard Summerville was the most cunning villain he had ever hunted, or he truly was the bumbling simpleton he appeared to be.
And the fact that he could not yet tell the truth of the matter was making Edmond damn well furious.
He had devoted years to exposing schemers, conspirators and outright traitors. He had forestalled countless plots against Alexander Pavlovich, simply because he could discern the most subtle warnings and sense when others were lying to him.
Now, when it was more important than ever, he found his instincts refusing to coope
rate.
Cursing beneath his breath, Edmond struggled to regain his badly strained composure when the door to the balcony was pushed open and the enticing scent of lavender filled the night air.
“Brianna.” He scowled in annoyance. “What the devil are you doing out here?”
She smiled with a blithe indifference at his blunt lack of welcome.
“I was in need of fresh air.” She turned to squarely face Howard Summerville who was hurriedly attempting to smooth his hair and tug down his wrinkled jacket. Howard might be a drunken sod, but even he responded to Brianna’s enticing beauty. “Am I interrupting?”
Before Howard could find his tongue, Edmond had moved to stand directly behind Brianna, his arms sliding around her waist so he could haul her against the hard planes of his body.
“As a matter of fact you are,” he drawled directly in her ear. “But then, that was your intention, was it not?”
She shivered, but with that courage he was beginning to recognize she refused to be quelled.
“Really, Stefan, you should not tease me in such a fashion,” she murmured, her hand shifting so she could covertly pinch his arm.
Ignoring the tiny pain, Edmond deliberately pressed his aching cock against her soft curves.
“No, I have far more pleasant means of teasing you, do I not?” he taunted.
She sucked in a sharp gasp before she was tugging away from his grasp and stepping toward the bemused Howard. With an inborn elegance, she offered a small curtsey.
“Mr. Summerville, this is a pleasure.” She held out a slender hand. “It has been far too long.”
“Indeed, it has.” Bending at the waist, Howard planted a kiss on her knuckles, unaware of the savage fury that lanced through Edmond at the mere sight of another man touching Brianna. “Who could have suspected you would grow into such a lovely woman?”
“I, for one,” Edmond snarled, encircling Brianna’s shoulders with a possessive arm.
Howard took a hasty step backward, male enough to sense Edmond’s prickling air of warning. That did not, however, halt him from attempting to try and take advantage of Brianna’s arrival. No doubt he hoped that she would be a far easier touch than Stefan or Edmond.
“And now that you are to be family, we must become better acquainted. Perhaps you would join my wife for—”
The slurred words came to an awkward halt as there was a muffled, but unmistakable sound of a shot being fired from the garden below. Edmond hissed in shock, spinning to the balustrade even as Howard gave a shout of alarm.
He was not certain what he intended to do. He could easily vault over the railing and land in the garden, but with the dark and fog he would be nearly blind. Hardly the best means to confront an armed assailant.
Still, he could not allow his attacker to vanish without even attempting to give chase.
“Brianna, go inside and do not leave until I return,” he commanded, his hands on the balustrade as he prepared to plunge into the thick shadows below.
He muttered a curse when she did not respond, turning his head to give her a furious glare. By God, he did not have time to waste….
His heart came to a sharp, agonizing halt, as he met her stunned gaze, belatedly noting the dark blood that welled on her temple before trickling down her cheek in a garish path.
He was instantly pulled ten years back in time, to the young man who had howled in helpless fury when he was told his parents had been drowned as they had taken their yacht from Surrey to London. Back then, he had been incapable of doing more than grimly enduring the loss. He had been so…damnably powerless.
This time, he would walk through the gates of hell before he allowed another in his life to die.
The agonized thoughts seared through his mind even as Brianna began to topple forward. With a hoarse cry, Edmond stepped forward, capturing her in his arms.
As was only to be expected, pandemonium erupted as Howard’s cowardly squawks of alarm brought the elegant guests spilling onto the balcony to discover that one of Lady Montgomery’s guests had been shot.
Edmond was vaguely aware of Howard’s stuttering explanation of the mysterious gunshots, and Lady Montgomery’s shocked commands that the entire town house and gardens be searched by her servants.
His attention, however, was firmly fixed on the terrifyingly limp body he held cradled in his arms as he stormed through the town house, barking for his carriage and growling at anyone foolish enough to stand in his path.
A voice in the back of his mind whispered that it would no doubt be wiser to take her to Lady Montgomery’s bedchamber and call for the doctor, but Edmond dismissed it with a ruthless efficiency. He was seized by a stark need to have her in Stefan’s town house. Only there would she be surrounded by his trained servants who were on constant guard and were loyal beyond question.
It was the one place he knew he could keep her safe.
In that moment, nothing else mattered.
EDMOND GLARED AT THE DOCTOR as he tugged on his coat and adjusted the beaver hat on his thinning, silver hair. He did not particularly care for the arrogance etched onto the man’s narrow face, or the cavalier manner he dismissed Brianna’s injury as a trifling matter, but Letty had convinced him that the condescending ass was the best doctor in London.
“You are certain Miss Quinn will recover?” he growled as the man continued to fuss with his hat.
“Your Grace, I assure you that the bullet merely grazed her temple. The bleeding has already halted and the wound should be completely healed within a few days.”
“Then why is she unconscious?”
“Even the glancing blow of a bullet to the temple would be enough to send a grown man into a swoon, let alone a delicate female.” He cleared his throat, his gaze casting a covert glance toward the nearby door. His arrogance was swiftly crumbling beneath Edmond’s seething frustration. “No doubt it felt as if she were kicked in the head by a mule.”
Edmond muttered a foul curse. The memory of Brianna’s wide, pain-stricken eyes before she swooned made his heart twist in horror. Christ, had she moved her head just a fraction that bullet would have…
He refused to allow the thought to form. Instead he glowered at the hapless doctor who was edging ever closer to the door and freedom.
“What of infection?” he demanded.
“There is little likelihood, but I shall return in the morning to ensure that all is well.”
“Does she have something for the pain?”
“I left a bottle of laudanum with her maid, although it would be best not to use it unless absolutely necessary.”
“And you will return if there is need before morning?”
“Really, your Grace…yes. Yes, of course. I will attend Miss Quinn whenever you desire.”
Edmond gave a dismissive nod as he turned and headed up the wide staircase. He had no true need for Haggen’s grudging promise. If he was in need of the doctor’s services, then he would send Boris to fetch him. At gunpoint if necessary.
His footsteps echoed eerily through the silent house, briefly slowing as he reached the landing. The need to continue up the next flight of stairs to the private chambers trembled through his tense body. The fear that gripped him would not be eased until Brianna was out of her bed and creating her usual chaos throughout his house.
He knew better than to attempt to join the wounded minx, at least for now. Both Lady Aberlane and Janet were hovering over Brianna like rabid badgers who would tear him asunder if he dared to interfere in their fussing and fretting.
Sourly, he stomped his way to the library. Entering the hushed room that was lit only by the smoldering embers of the dying fire, Edmond moved to pour himself a large measure of brandy, tossing it down in one swallow. The finely aged spirit burned a welcome path down his throat, helping to ease the icy fear that had clutched him from the moment he’d turned to discover that Brianna had been shot.
He was pouring his second brandy when Boris joined him. The sturdy soldier pau
sed to add another log on the smoldering fire before removing his heavy coat and leaning against the carved mantle.
The moment that Edmond had returned to the town house, he had sent his trusted servant to Lady Montgomery’s in the vague hope that the assailant might have been spotted by a servant, or careless enough to leave some hint of his identity behind.
Handing the half-filled glass to his obviously weary companion, Edmond perched on the edge of the desk.
“Well?”
Boris grimaced as he set aside his empty glass. “There was nothing to be discovered in the garden, but it was too dark for a thorough search. I will return at first light.”
“Did you speak with the servants?”
“As many as would talk with a foreigner.”
Edmond grimaced. There were some things that were as predictable as the sun rising in the east, and the Englishmen and their inbred disdain for anyone they deemed as foreign was one of them.
“I suppose that none of them had the good sense to notice a stranger lurking in the gardens?”
Boris shrugged. “Most of them had gathered in the kitchens, although there were a few of the more adventurous servants taking advantage of the housekeeper’s distraction to slip into the mews and enjoy a bit of privacy.” Boris deliberately paused to assure Edmond’s full attention. “One of the maids distinctly recalls hearing the sound of running footsteps coming out of the stables and entering the garden just moments before the shot was fired.”
“From the stables? Then the shooter was not waiting in the garden?”
“Not if the footsteps belonged to the shooter.”
“Is it possible to see someone on the balcony from such a vantage?”
“Yes.” Boris gave a sharp nod. “In fact, if I were attempting to keep watch on someone within the town house, the mews would be the perfect location to choose.”
Edmond abruptly straightened from the desk, pacing the room as he considered the implication of Boris’s discovery.
“So it was sheer fortune for the assassin that I was careless enough to step onto the balcony and offer such a ready target?”
“Your cousin did not request that you join him on the balcony?” Boris asked, troubled.
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