The Earl's Night of Being Wild (The Fallen Angels NOVELLA series Book 3)

by Julianna Hughes

  "Then we will accompany you to the magistrate and straighten this little misunderstanding out in no time at all," Lord Hastmann said.

  Chapter 8

  Midnight

  Rodney didn't know if he wanted to cry, scream, or kill someone. Ideally, he wanted to turn Mary Contrary over his knee and tan her backside for the next week. Grateful that the half-pint robbers hadn’t thought to take it, he pulled his watch out and checked the time. In little more than four hours she already had gotten him in more trouble than he been in for the last eight years of his life. And that was saying a lot considering the number of sea battles he had been involved in. Rodney replaced his pocket watch, few more hours of this and he would be ready for Bedlam or a coffin.

  Bedlam was a more likely outcome. Because the longer he was around her the more he remembered all the reasons he had fallen in love with her. And the more certain he was that he was still in love with her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with Mary. But first things first. He had to find a way to get out of goal.

  The constables that arrested him had not believed he was the Earl of Hamstone. Why would they? He was dressed in one of his old comfortable Navy uniform shirts, old outdated pantaloons, and uniform shoes that were badly scuffed after the altercation at the Devil's Cove. Rodney just hadn't been able to justify the expenditure of a new wardrobe. His only concession to style had been the new coat and waistcoat the juvenile thugs had relieved him of. So why in the world would anyone in their right mind believe that he was a nobleman? Much less the reputed staunchly conservative Earl of Hamstone.

  So here he sat, waiting for his case to be heard by the magistrate in the morning. The only reason he wasn't cooling his heels in a cell was that the constables weren't completely sure he was lying about being a peer. Rodney knew he would be able to prove his identity in the morning. Meanwhile images of Mary running loose on the unsuspecting citizens of London were terrifying him.

  Just not as much as the idea that she would move forward with her plan to relieve Binsby of a large portion of his ill-gotten fortune without him. Rodney had no trouble whatsoever believing that Mary was quite capable of doing exactly as she claimed. As a young man he had personally felt the sting of her card playing abilities. And in his experience, men like Binsby could be very dangerous. Especially where their money was concerned.

  The clatter of shod horses and steel carriage wheels in the street interrupted his morose musings. The noise stopped just outside and then he heard a man's commanding voice demanding to be taken to whoever was in charge. The voice was familiar but Rodney couldn't quite place it.

  What appeared to be an argument of some kind ensued between the cultured voice of an obvious angry aristocrat and one of the constables. Then a second, distinctive French-English woman's voice joined the chorus. A voice he wasn't likely to forget. Nor would he wish to be on the wrong side of that owner ever again. Lord Lucien Stoughton, Baron Hastmann, and his piratical lady wife were outside and demanding entrance to the Bow Street offices. Could his luck get any worse than his childhood nemesis showing up and seeing him in his current state of disgrace?

  Apparently, they could. Moments later Luc stormed through the door and came face to face with Rodney. His wife was close on his heels and both of them looked like they had just come from a night at the theatre, or an elegant London ballroom.

  "Hallo, Rod," his old nemesis greeted.

  "Luc, what in the bloody hell are you doing here?" he returned.

  The man grinned down at him as a second man wedged his way between the couple. "I asked them to bring me."

  "Oh, bloody hell," he muttered. "Merrr," his eyes flickered to Luc and then back to Mary. "Mister. . ." Rodney's heart thudded against his chest as his brain froze. What in the hell was the name she was using?

  "John-son," she said slowly in her annoying male voice, as if she was speaking to a simpleton. "Johnson. We met earlier this evening Lord Hamstone. And I was showing you the delights of London. But we were set upon by thieves and you lost your coat. I was loaning you one of mine when you were mistakenly arrested by these cretins and brought here against your will."

  She had ended her recital in a loud theatrical voice that carried to ever corner of the room. The look on Luc's and his wife's face was comical. So were the faces on the constables that had been holding him. And Rodney would have laughed if he hadn't wanted to strangle Mary there on the spot.

  "Milord," one of the constables asked the new comer, "do you know this man?"

  Luc turned to the man. Rodney couldn't see Luc's face but judging by the quickening pallor of the constable's face he suspected Luc was giving the man his worst Captain Stoughton stare. "The man, as you put it, is the Earl of Hamstone. A personal friend of mine and my brother the Duke of Belfort. He is also a war hero and a close personal friend of the Duke of Wellington."

  What remained of the man's color drained the rest of the way out. Luc was formidable enough all on his own. His brother, the Duke of Belfort was feared by nearly everyone in England.

  "My apologies, Lord Hastmann," the man stammered, "We had no way of knowing who he was. He was found loitering outside of the Royal Theater dressed as he is."

  "It is not I that you owe your apologies to. It is to the Earl of Hamstone. He is the one you have wrongfully arrested and held without cause."

  The man's eyes bugged out and he looked as if he was about to faint. Turning to Rodney he stammered, "My . . . my apologies, milord. We didn't know who you were, milord."

  Rodney bit his lip. He wanted to tell the man all he would have had to do was send someone to the Park Plaza hotel to verify his identity. But the man hadn't believed him and hadn't wanted to disturb anyone at the prestigious hotel in the middle of the night. But rather than belabor the point all Rodney wanted to do was get the hell out of there before someone else came along and recognized him. Three scandalous events in one night was quite enough for him.

  "No harm done," Rodney said. He turned to Luc. "Shall we be on our way, Lord Hastmann?"

  "Quite so," Luc replied.

  In short order they were all piled back into Luc's town coach, with Mary and Rodney on the rear facing seat and Luc and Lady Hastmann on the front one.

  "Where can we drop you?" Luc asked.

  "The Park Plaza hotel," Rodney said. Mary stirred beside him and he rushed ahead. "I'm not sure Mr. Johnson has informed you but I was the victim of a robbery earlier this evening. My waistcoat, coat, and purse were the casualties of the encounter. So, I'd like to go by my lodgings and repair the damage before we continue with our plans for the night. Mine and Mr. Johnson's that is."

  "And a bit to eat, wouldn't go amiss either," Mary put in.

  Rodney blinked as he turned and stared at Mary. Her eyes seemed to twinkle beneath the fake beard and wig. He was on the verge of telling her that he didn't need anything to eat when his stomach made a liar of him by grumbling loudly.

  "Oh, how lovely," Lady Hastmann said. Rodney whipped around and just stared at her in disbelief. "I'm a bit famished myself. Aren't you, Luc?"

  "I am rather," Luc replied and Rodney jerked toward his schoolboy antagonist. "You won't mind. Do you, old boy? We can catch up with what each of us has been doing the past year while we dine."

  Rodney reached for the only excuse he could come up with to avoid the impending disaster. “Don’t you need to get home to your child? How old is Amelie now?”

  Both parents lit up with joy. Lady Hastmann spoke, “Why, thank you for asking. Amelie turned two months yesterday. And no, we really don’t need to get home right away, milord. In fact, we have all-l-l night.” A calculating gleam he had seen before entered her eyes. “Gabe and Katie were kind enough to watch Amelie for us, so we can have a night to ourselves. You remember them, don’t you?”

  Rodney swallowed and nodded. How could he forget Lucien’s brother and sister-in-law, the Duke and Duchess of Belfort?

  Lady Hastmann smiled and continued, “So, you see, we are complet
ely free to have a bit to eat with you and your new friend there.”

  Apparently, his night of hell wasn't over quite yet.

  Fortunately, their midnight repast was nothing more than a cool mug of ale and some cold-cuts. Mary kept up a running dialogue on the profitability and excitement of running a silk trading enterprise. By the end of the meal Rodney was convinced that Mary, or rather Arthur Johnson, was truly in the business of importing silk and other products.

  He wondered just where she had learned such intricate details. But he wasn't about to ask. At least not until they were well away from Lucien and his overly perceptive wife. Whom he knew from past experiences had a couple of uncles who had been in the import and export business themselves. Illegally, as they had been smugglers during the war. Among other things.

  "Well, if you and your wonderful lady will excuse us," Rodney said after finishing off his ale, "my friend and I will be on our way. Mr. Johnson has promised to show me the sights here in London."

  "Oh?" Luc asked. "I would think you already knew most of them."

  Rodney shrugged his shoulders. "Not really. I rarely came to London before I joined the Navy. And I inherited the title shortly after resigning my commission last year and have been in Yorkshire ever since. So, this is in fact my first real visit to our capital."

  Which had the benefit of being completely true. If not for Sam's invitation, he might still be in Yorkshire. Which would have been a crime itself because he wouldn't have found Mary.

  "Of course," Luc said and nodded his head.

  After they exchanged some more of the niceties, Rodney and Mary took their leave. He had intended to flag down a hackney right outside the hotel but Mary had other ideas. She took his arm and steered him away from the Hacks queued up in front of the hotel. They walked for several blocks before he pulled them to a stop in front of a closed shop. After insuring that no one was watching them, he pushed her into the darkened alcove of the shop’s door.

  Holding her against the wall with his body, he demanded, "What are you doing?"

  Heat from her body invaded his scenes, and scattered his wits a little. Especially, when she gazed up into his face with a mixture of joy and mischief in her eyes.

  "I thought you might like to put a little distance between your friends before we continue on with our plans for the night," she purred seductively up at him. It wasn’t so much what she said, as how she said those words that set his loins on fire.

  Rodney tried to shake off the sensual haze, and concentrated on what she was telling him. Their plans for the night? Somewhere in the last few hours he had lost track of just what their plans for the night were. The only thing he could think of was getting her alone and kissing her. And despite the horrible beard and wig she was wearing, she still smelled like Mary. And in the darkness, she still felt like the Mary he remembered, only fuller, more mature. And much more alluring.

  No matter how he tried, all his mind could contemplate at the moment was that for the first time in eight years the woman he loved was once again back in his arms.

  There were a hundred-and-one things he should be saying to her right then. Another couple of dozen things he should be doing. But there was only one thing he wanted to do. And so, he did what he had been dreaming about for eight years. He leaned down and captured her lips with his. Her disguise distracted him for a second, but then he ignored it and lost himself to the pleasure of tasting her after all these years.

  She startled at first and he instinctively wanted to tighten his hold on her. But he couldn't do that to her, so he forced his fingers to relax. She pulled away and blinked up at him. Wonder or something else swam in her eyes, he just wasn't sure what. Nor did he care as long as it wasn't revulsion.

  Then she wet her lips and he followed the path of her tongue as it darted out and retreated once, twice and then her lips fell apart.

  "Kenny," she whispered.

  "Mary," he answered.

  They moved as one. Their mouths slamming together in a bruising collision. He retreated. She followed. His tongue plunged into the depths of her mouth and tangled with hers. Mary imitated him. And when he drew back to draw a breath, she tightened her hold on his neck and protested with a loud groan.

  Rodney dropped his head and sought out the pulse that beat at her neck. But instead of soft warm skin, once again he met bristling hair. "Damn your disguise," he growled.

  "Take it off," she pleaded.

  "Not a bad idea, Signorina Sigona. But I wouldn't advise you to do so here," a male voice said from behind Rodney's back.

  A cold chill flashed over Rodney bringing him back to reality in an instant. He tore away from Mary and spun around to confront the hulking man standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

  "Luc? What in the bloody hell are you doing here?" Rodney demanded.

  Luc's right eyebrow shot up and he regarded Rodney in a way that made him want to rip the man's face off.

  "I'm headed home," Luc calmly replied. "But that isn't the question here. The real question is, have you lost your mind?" Luc leaned to the side and nodded toward Mary. "Begging your pardon, Signorina. No offense meant." He returned his attention to Rodney. "But have the two of you lost your ever-loving minds?"

  Rodney straightened to his full height and glared back at his old schoolmate. "And just what do you mean by that?" he demanded.

  Luc's mouth split into a wide grin as he stared from Rodney to Mary.

  "He doesn't mean anything by it, Lord Hamstone," Lady Hastmann said as she joined Luc on the sidewalk. "What he is trying to say, in his own convoluted way, is that you might not want to be kissing each other in public the way Miss Sigona is dressed."

  Everything in Rodney froze as his stomach roiled violently. Damn! He had completely forgotten about Mary's disguise.

  "Quite right, old boy," Luc said cheerfully. "You might want to return to your rooms to continue this little," he waved his hand toward to them, "whatever you were doing. Or wait until Miss Sigona is properly dressed as herself before you accost her on the streets where anyone can see you. Otherwise the both of you might find yourselves back in front of the magistrate explaining why you were kissing another man."

  "Oh, bloody hell," he muttered and heard Mary begin to giggle uncontrollably behind him. He had been wrong. The night could get worse. It just had.

  Chapter 9

  1:10 AM

  "Are you a member of Brooks?" Mary asked him as they settled into a hackney after leaving the Hastmanns.

  "Yes," he replied. "My father kept up my membership while I was away. And although it is an expense I can barely afford, I have managed to keep it up. At least I paid the membership fees for the next year. So, yes, for the time being I am still a member. Why?"

  Because she needed time to think. His kiss had completely flummoxed her. It brought back longings she thought she had done away with a long time ago. And with it, painful memories and feelings.

  "Binsby is also a member,” she told him. “It's not one of his usual hunting grounds as most of the regular members have long since refused to sit down to a game of cards with him. But it might be worth checking it out as he can still find young and inexperienced lords to sit down to a game with him once in a while. And besides, we have to go right past it if we are going to continue on with our plans for the night."

  "That sounded like a question," Rodney said.

  It was, just not the question he thought she was asking. What she really wanted to know was if he was going to kiss her again. She prevaricated instead as she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to her real question.

  "You've had a bit of a rough night, Kenny. I wasn't sure you wanted to keep looking for Binsby or not," she said.

  He smiled back at her and a quake wafted through her. "Oh, I think I'm a bit more stalwart than that, Miss Contrary. After all, I did survive my childhood with you. And some of those adventures were a great deal more harrowing than what I've faced so far tonight."

  Mary didn't t
hink so, but she had no intentions of telling him that. Because she wasn't sure she had survived the one great missed adventure they had never really embarked on; love.

  The summer he came home from university for the last time they had danced around it for months. Literally the night of the annual Hamstone Festival. They had danced more than twice at the assembly that year. Twice in the ballroom. And twice more in the garden outback of the assembly hall.

  That summer the two of them had spent even more time than usual sneaking off together. Not doing anything inappropriate. At least no more so than they had done most of their lives. But he had held her hand on several of those adventures. Again, nothing inordinate about him touching her. Except that summer it was different in some way. In her heart she had known it. And Mary knew he had felt it too. She had reveled in the idea that he was finally falling in love with her. Because she had been head-over-heels in love with him for years.

  And then her world had come crashing down on her in a single moment. Rodney's father had paid a visit on hers. Someone had told him that Rodney was spending an unseemly amount of time in the company of the vicar's eldest daughter. A girl he believed unsuitable for his son to marry. Not because of her birth but because her recklessness and temperament made her unsuitable as the wife of a nobleman.

  That night Rodney had kissed her for the last time. It had been explosive. Better than all her dreams and fantasies. And it had been devastating. She knew Rodney better than anyone in the world. Mary had watched him struggle against the traces his father and society had placed upon him for years. And she knew there was only one reason he had finally broken free of them; he was going to propose to her.

  One of her deepest dreams was about to come true. But if she had allowed him to propose to her then it would have ruined too many lives. The Earl of Hamstone had threatened to take away her father's income, destroy Mary's future, and disinherit his own son if he and Mary should marry. That she could not allow. So, the next day she bribed Johnny Jamison from the next village over into running away together.