His Wicked Secret (The League of Rogues Book 8)

by Lauren Smith

“Beg your pardon, sir, but Lord Pembroke wishes to see you.”

  Jonathan cleared his throat. “Show him in.”

  “Don’t give up, brother.” Godric gave Jonathan another pat on the shoulder before they turned around to see James Fordyce enter.

  Godric shook James’s hand. “Pembroke, how the devil are you?”

  “I’m well, Your Grace, and you?” James turned a smile toward Godric, then turned pale at the sight of Jonathan.

  Not a surprise. I must look terrible. He had a dreadful black eye, and it still visibly pained him to move. Godric nudged his brother in the arm, careful not to hurt his ribs. Jonathan had told him everything, of course. After his brother had stopped laughing, he’d been quick to tell him what a fool he’d been for not summoning the League for help.

  “Good, good,” said Godric. “Offering my brother a bit of advice on women. He’s still a young pup.”

  “Not so young,” Jonathan snorted.

  “Yes, well, you’re young enough to know not to just take what you want.”

  “Indeed. Some ladies object to being carried off,” Jonathan chided. “Your wife most certainly did.”

  “Yes, wives object at first. But that’s how you make them wives, when they’re objecting.”

  Jonathan and James shared a look. “How’s that for circular logic, eh?”

  Godric shrugged. “It worked for me, and it will work for you. Trust me, I know that little sprite too well. She won’t sit around waiting for a proposal. You can ask for forgiveness later.”

  “You don’t know her as I do. I won’t live long enough to seek forgiveness if I cross her.” He sighed and shook his head.

  Godric cleared his throat and grinned. “Well, I understand you two had an interesting night.”

  “Yes, we did. But it is not my place to say more about it.” James’s discretion was a credit to his character. Although he and Jonathan were newly acquainted, Jonathan liked the man immensely. And after last night he was glad to count him as a friend.

  Although Jonathan had been brought into his brother’s circle of friends, he still felt like an outsider at times. It was understandable, though. What Godric and the others had gone through at university had forged a bond between them no man could break, except perhaps for Hugo Waverly. That man was out for blood, and Jonathan knew with dreadful certainty that the past and his brother’s secrets—the League’s secrets—would someday catch up with all of them.

  Godric smiled at James. “As much as I’d like to stay, I best be getting back to my wife. She’s most insistent we discuss nursery plans.”

  James’s open joy was evident, as was his amusement. “You are expecting?”

  “Yes.” Godric actually turned red. His frightening, brooding elder brother was settling down as an expectant father, something none who knew him could have predicted. “Next winter. The baby will be born in January.”

  James slapped Godric on the shoulder. “My congratulations, then! Lady Essex must be thrilled.”

  “We both are. But damned if her delicate condition hasn’t stopped her from causing trouble. Lord, Emily has a knack for that.”

  Trouble? His brother’s wife was certainly that. “Emily’s middle name is trouble. She almost got me shot. By my own brother.”

  “Because you tried to seduce her.”

  “Well I didn’t know she was in love with you. Can’t blame a man for trying when he thinks he has a chance.” Jonathan winked, unable to resist teasing his brother a little.

  Godric crossed his arms. “Yes, well she’s happily married now—to me. And you have your own wife to catch.”

  “Catch indeed,” Jonathan muttered. Catching Audrey was going to be one hell of a challenge.

  “Why don’t you join us for drinks at Berkley’s tonight?” Godric suggested to James.

  “I’d be happy to,” James replied. The two nodded in agreement as Godric departed, leaving James and Jonathan alone.

  Jonathan’s shoulders dropped as he exhaled. Lord, he was exhausted after last night’s battle. All he’d wanted was to hold Audrey in his arms this morning, but she’d slipped through his fingers once again. He hadn’t been surprised, but he had been disappointed.

  “So, last night,” James said quietly. “How the devil did you find out about that hellfire club?”

  Jonathan’s lips twitched. “I could ask the same of you. I keep a close eye on Miss Sheridan. She’s always in the midst of something dangerous.” In some ways she was even more trouble than Godric’s wife. As Lady Society, Audrey put herself in danger every time she published a new article. And how long she could retain her anonymity now was in question.

  “You know then that—?” James started.

  “She’s Lady Society? Yes, I discovered that an hour before we ended up at that infernal club.” Well, the truth was he’d only had vague suspicions that were confirmed after he’d arrived, but he felt foolish enough as it was without admitting to an extra layer of ignorance. “I went after her, but when I saw—” He cut himself off. He’d nearly said Gillian, but James couldn’t know that Gillian was Audrey’s maid.

  Early on, when he’d learned of Audrey’s scheme to bring those two together, he’d made himself complicit in her plot by withholding Gillian’s identity as a lady’s maid. As a former servant, he understood the shame that sometimes came with being of the lower class, a shame they did not deserve but faced nonetheless. He would not be the man to ruin Gillian’s chance at happiness if she and James could find a way to be together. He just hoped Audrey knew what she was doing meddling behind the scenes.

  He quickly recovered. “However, it seems we got out of there without much harm done. To us, at any rate.” A few broken ribs weren’t that bad, all things considered.

  “Indeed…” James still looked hesitant. “Do you know Miss Beaumont?”

  “Gillian? I mean yes.” Jonathan smiled. “I know Miss Beaumont.”

  James’s eyes lit up. “What do you know of her? I’ve been trying to find out more, but no one seemed to know her, and Miss Sheridan wouldn’t reveal anything to me when I visited her before I came here.”

  Be careful, he warned himself. “Oh, I mean I know her, but not in a way that would be helpful to you, I fear. How well does anyone know a person, really?”

  James’s gaze hardened. “You were there with me in that club. She was there with Miss Sheridan. They were both in danger, and I don’t know why everyone is keeping quiet about Miss Beaumont.” He fisted his hands. “The woman is a bloody mystery, and it’s driving me mad with worry for her.”

  Jonathan didn’t miss the intensity in the other man’s tone. “You like her, do you?”

  James replied at once. “If I could find her, I’d likely ask her to marry me, but she keeps disappearing on me at every turn.”

  Not unlike her mistress. Running off on missions or Lord knows what.

  Jonathan laughed. He walked over to the table by the wall and grabbed the decanter of brandy, pouring two glasses and holding one out to James.

  “Well, that’s something you have to get accustomed to. Women like her rarely sit still and certainly don’t waste time waiting around to be rescued. The best we can do is run to keep up.”

  They remained silent for a while as they drank. Then James brightened. “Are you going the house party at Rochester Hall next week?”

  “I hadn’t thought to go, but my brother was just there and convinced me that I should.” It sounded like a terrible idea. He felt completely out of place at social functions. He was much more accustomed to hiding in the shadows, which was understandable given his upbringing, but it was not a desirable trait given his current situation as a member of the ton.

  James’s attitude turned somber. “Good, we can suffer together. Miss Sheridan said I am to be invited, but it has been a while since I’ve attended a house party.”

  Jonathan had heard rumors about James’s mother, the Countess of Pembroke, how she was ill and James rarely left London for fear of not be
ing there if she took a turn for the worse. He spent most of his nights at the Wicked Earls’ Club run by a fellow named Coventry, though it was said he only sought solitude there. A house party would do him good. It would do both them good, if he were being honest. Godric continued to remind Jonathan how much he needed to practice being out in society. To socialize and interact. As if that was easy.

  The glass of brandy felt soothing in his palms as he rolled it. “Do you ever feel like you’re an outsider looking in on this world? Like your face is pressed to the glass? All you hear is muffled, and what you see is a bit blurred. And most maddening of all, you can’t get any closer?” He felt like a damned fool for confessing such a thing, but James’s reply was comforting.

  “More than you know.”

  We’re both lost in this world.

  “Jonathan, tell me everything about Miss Beaumont. Please. I need to know.”

  Pembroke was smitten indeed. He could sympathize. But there were ways he could give the man what he wanted without revealing everything. “I can tell you the small things- her favorite color, the way she takes her tea, her favorite books- but I cannot tell you much more than that. She has her reasons for her privacy.”

  “So I’ve been told,” James grumbled. “Tell me everything you can.”

  If they were going to discuss women, he wanted to keep busy; otherwise, he would worry too much about the bargain he had made with Audrey and whether she was brave enough to meet his terms. He nodded toward the door. “Very well, how about a game of billiards while we talk?”

  James agreed, and the two of them departed for the billiard room. Jonathan hoped the game could help him forget for a time about his own problems with the troublesome Lady Society.

  7

  There were few things more frustrating than sitting through a long carriage ride with a fretful lady’s maid. After listening for two hours to Gillian worry about the house party, Audrey breathed a sigh of relief as the coach finally stopped at Rochester Hall, her sister’s country residence. If only Gillian could take a breath, Audrey knew everything would be all right. She had plans to make this week perfect for Gillian and James.

  Audrey tipped her head back, admiring the lovely ancestral home of her brother-in-law, the Marquess of Rochester. The Palladian architecture of Lucien’s estate was beautiful, the wide columns, the pale ashlar stone. The house looked as if it had withstood a century with ease and would stand several more. It wasn’t the first time Audrey had been here. She’d visited often over the last ten years, but it felt new each time she arrived. There was a magic to Rochester Hall that was undeniable. It was a place where dreams and dynasties collided. And now her sister, Horatia, ran it like a benevolent queen, with a little help from Lucien’s mother, Jane. The two got along famously, which was a blessing.

  “I think this is a terrible idea,” Gillian complained as she followed Audrey out of the coach.

  “Nonsense. I had to watch you mope about for an entire week, and now you owe me.” She flashed her maid a saccharine smile. Everything had been set into motion for Gillian’s own good, though she would never see it that way. Gillian had faced a hard life, but now it was time to be brave and fight for something better, and she wasn’t going to let her maid back down.

  “But to act like a lady when I am not one—”

  “Hush. You are lady and gently born. Your circumstances after that do not make you any less of one.” She reached up and tucked a curl of hair back into Gillian’s hood to make sure her friend looked perfect. Gillian blushed and tugged on the edges of the cloak.

  If it was the last thing Audrey would do, she was going to convince her friend that she was worthy of the man who called to her heart. All the pieces were in place. Her sister was to tell the servants that Gillian was preparing to play a lady in an upcoming performance at another house party, and the guests were to have no idea of her true identity. Gillian did not approve of the idea, but she would warm up to it soon enough.

  “Horatia knows to put you in a room close to mine, and the servants who know you have been made aware of the situation.” Her tone was a tad breezy perhaps, but she wanted to make sure Gillian felt there was nothing to worry about.

  “The situation?” Gillian hissed. “What exactly did you tell them?”

  She sighed. “That you are learning to act the part of the lady so we might be actresses in a play that some friends in London are putting on in a few weeks. You are helping me in the act and therefore must play the part of a lady in the story. Horatia knows it’s really because we are perfecting our skills for espionage. She doesn’t like me spying, but I convinced her that you and I would stay close to London, so she thinks it is safe enough.”

  Her maid’s dramatic gasp caused Audrey’s eyes to roll. “Spying? My lady—”

  “Audrey. You’d best get into the habit of calling me that. The rest of the guests will think it curious if you keep calling me my lady. For the next several days, you are a lady yourself. Do not forget it.”

  Audrey lowered her hood as they reached the door to Rochester Hall. A group of footmen darted down the steps toward them to gather their luggage and cloaks.

  “You are Miss Beaumont,” she reminded Gillian in a low voice. “Don’t forget, no matter what.”

  “Audrey!”

  Her sister appeared in the doorway, and she was a most welcome sight. Horatia rested a hand over her stomach, grinning. Audrey could scarcely believe that her sister was due to have a child in a month. Her face was glowing, and her brown eyes were bright. The Duchess of Essex’s baby was due in January, and Cedric, Audrey’s brother, was also expecting a little one around the same time. What a joy to become an aunt twice over in just one year. Yet a twinge of sorrow stung her heart. It seemed she was never to be married, never to have children. Two things she had longed for since she’d come of age.

  “Sister!” Audrey hugged Horatia and fought back the sudden rush of tears. It seemed so long since Horatia had left the Sheridan townhouse. For as long as she could remember, she, Horatia, and Cedric had survived together, just the three of them, bound by the tragedy of losing their parents so young. But then Horatia had left, and now Cedric was happily married. Everything in her life had shifted. It was no longer what she was used to, and while there was more joy, there were days when Audrey felt listless and melancholy, though few other than Gillian ever saw that side of her. She sniffed and regained control before her sister noticed anything was amiss.

  Horatia gently released Audrey and greeted Gillian. “Miss Beaumont. Don’t worry; everything is prepared. Simply enjoy yourself and relax.”

  “Thank you,” Gillian replied, blushing but keeping her head high.

  That’s it, Gillian. Be the young lady you were meant to be.

  Horatia ushered them farther into the foyer. “You are both in the east wing, along with most of the other guests.”

  “How many are coming?” Gillian asked.

  “About thirty. Mostly local families and a few other guests.” Horatia suddenly winced and covered her belly with her hand.

  Alarm gripped Audrey. “Horatia?” She took her sister’s hand and exchanged a worried glance.

  “It’s the baby. He’s kicking my… Pardon me, I must avail myself of the facilities.” Horatia rushed down the corridor.

  Audrey watched her sister rush away in a flutter of skirts. “Do you want us to help you?”

  “No. I’ll be fine,” she assured them before she vanished.

  Audrey turned to Gillian. “The baby was kicking? Whatever for?” She knew so little of babes, especially those in the womb. Her parents had died when she was a child, and she never had the opportunity to learn much about such things.

  Gillian chuckled. “Sometimes a baby can be positioned in a way that when they move, it can hasten the need for a lady to relieve herself.”

  Heat flooded Audrey’s face. She was still looking down the hallway in horror. “Oh, I see!” She couldn’t imagine having a miniature person pressin
g her bladder from the inside, squeezing it like some tropical fruit. “That sounds quite awful.”

  “It can be uncomfortable, I’m told.”

  “How do you know about babies?” Audrey asked.

  Her friend’s face broke out in a rare smile. “My mother was open to sharing such details with me. Her mother, my grandmother, had been a midwife. We helped a neighbor deliver a baby before the doctor could arrive.”

  Audrey tucked her arm in Gillian’s while the footmen carried their bags to the room in the east wing. “How did I not know this?”

  “Because I’m not sure I should be sharing this with you, what with you being so squeamish on such matters. You’d likely never want to have a child.”

  “I’m not squeamish!”

  Her maid smirked. “You are. Remember that time you pricked your finger on your needle and the blood—”

  Audrey’s stomach turned. “Oh hush! Don’t remind me. It was so mortifying. It’s been hard to forget how silly I felt waking up on the floor. And in front of Emily and Anne, no less.” She bit her lip, frowning at the memory. Gillian patted her hand.

  “I wish Lady Essex and Lady Sheridan were here tonight,” Gillian admitted.

  “As do I,” Audrey agreed. “But they are leaving for Brighton with their husbands. Something to do with buying a few stud horses. Emily is most interested in joining Cedric and Anne in breeding those new Arabians.”

  “And Ashton and Rosalind?” Gillian asked as they reached the opening of the hallway that led to their rooms.

  “In Scotland, to see Rosalind’s brothers and their families.” Audrey giggled. “They’re such devils, you know. Though I mean that lovingly. She’s trying to coax them down to visit, but I suppose a castle in Scotland is far more interesting than a boring country house in southern England. Wouldn’t you agree? I’d get into such delightful scrapes if I had the chance to run about a castle. Do you think it could be haunted? Castles are always haunted, aren’t they?”

  Audrey would’ve loved to visit a haunted castle and play the role a Gothic heroine. She’d run about in a white nightgown carrying a candlestick, searching behind tapestries for Bluebeard’s missing wives.