Scoundrel Ever After (Secrets and Scandals)

by Darcy Burke

  He spoke as if Ethan were already gone. Panic threatened to suffocate her. “He may not be dead. We have to try to rescue him.”

  Fitzgibbons removed his hat and clenched it between his massive hands. “There’s likely nothin’ to be done.” He flicked his gaze around the room. “Even if Jagger’s not dead yet, ’e’s ’eavily guarded.”

  Audrey’s chest twisted anew and her throat constricted painfully. “We have to try.”

  “Yes, we do,” Lockwood said, his gaze finding Audrey’s and giving her a sliver of hope. It was enough to know she wasn’t alone in wanting to try to save Ethan.

  Lydia turned in his embrace so she could see Audrey. “Yes, we have to try.”

  Carlyle nodded slowly. “We must remember that Ethan is different—to Jimmy. Lockwood, do you know what the letter said? Are there any clues we can use to help us?”

  “He appealed to their father-son relationship.”

  Father-son? Ethan hadn’t told her anything about that. An ache opened up in her chest as she realized there would be countless things she’d never know about him because he wouldn’t have the chance to tell her.

  Carlyle cocked his head to the side. “Then it’s also possible that Jimmy might behave differently in this situation since his emotions are involved.”

  “And you think that’s a good thing?” Saxton’s tone was laced with doubt.

  “I don’t know what to think. But I’ll find out.” Carlyle turned to the retainer who’d come in with him. “Scot, can you see if you can learn anything through any of your contacts?”

  Scot gave a swift nod. “Meet back here in a couple of hours?”

  “As quickly as possible. If there’s a chance to pull off a rescue attempt, we’ll need to move fast.”

  “Carlyle, do you need any help?” Sevrin asked.

  Carlyle frowned. “Ethan didn’t want you getting too involved.”

  “He’s not here to argue with me about it. Let’s go.”

  Saxton straightened his coat and turned toward the door. “I’ll come with you.”

  “Wait,” Lockwood said, releasing Lydia and moving toward them. “You can’t expect me to stay here and do nothing.”

  Carlyle inclined his head toward Audrey and Lydia. “I don’t think you’ll be doing ‘nothing.’ We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

  They all departed and Lockwood spun about to glare at nothing in particular.

  North set the tea service on the table. Audrey had no idea when he’d entered.

  “I’ll bring some whisky, my lord.”

  Jason dropped himself on the other settee. “Bring the damn bottle.”

  Lydia returned to Audrey and took her hand again. “We’re going to save him.” If her declaration lacked certainty, Audrey didn’t comment on it. She had to hold on to whatever hope she could find.

  Audrey felt a strip of smoothness on her friend’s finger. She looked down at the wedding band on Lydia’s hand. “You were married,” she said softly, her heart aching because she would likely never know that joy.

  Lydia smiled sadly. “Yes. I’m sorry you couldn’t be there.”

  North came in with a bottle of whisky and handed a glass of the amber liquid to Lockwood. He raised the glass. “I told Ethan we’d celebrate at your wedding,”

  Audrey jumped to her feet, suddenly unable to tolerate company. “Do you mind if I go upstairs?”

  “Not at all,” Lydia said. “I’ll have North show you to the yellow room.”

  “It’s all right, I know where it is.” Audrey nearly smiled at the shocked look on Lydia’s face.

  “Were you actually here that night Wolverton was killed?” Lockwood asked, incredulous. “When Sevrin showed up at Bow Street earlier and said you’d been a witness to the murder, I assumed it was a lie.”

  “I may have exaggerated what I saw, but I was here. Dressed as a gentleman.” The familiar blush that should’ve stolen up her neck as she revealed this information didn’t come. Perhaps she was just too emotionally exhausted to care. “I’ve been to four of your vice parties, actually. I’m quite familiar with the layout of the house.” Both Lockwood and Lydia gaped at her. “Don’t look so scandalized, I didn’t partake of any of the offerings, save the gambling.”

  Lydia shook her head. “It’s just . . . I’m shocked.”

  “I’m not always what I seem.” Her voice cracked. Ethan had known that about her. From their very first waltzing lesson, he’d seen right to her core, had declared she was worth more than anyone had ever realized. She’d fallen half in love with him right then.

  She turned to go, but Lydia halted her at the doorway. “Should we notify your grandfather or your parents that you’re here?”

  Audrey turned. She’d barely given them a second thought, including her grandfather, which sparked a pang of shame. “Not yet. What do they think happened when I disappeared?”

  “Your grandfather insisted you’d been kidnapped by a dark-haired criminal. Ethan, I imagine. But then Bow Street told them a few days later that you seemed to be traveling with him without duress. The whole affair has been kept very quiet.”

  “I’m sure no one has even registered my absence.” Audrey forced a weak smile. “Except you.”

  Lydia’s gaze was soft, but not quite pitying, thank goodness. They both knew that Society hadn’t ever paid much attention to her and wouldn’t notice if she’d fallen off the face of the earth.

  “Please fetch me when they return.” Audrey turned and made her way upstairs on legs that should not have been able to support her. But she wouldn’t crumple. Not yet. She would fight for Ethan until she was certain he was gone. And then she didn’t know what she’d do at all.

  Chapter Twenty

  ETHAN’S WARM PALM skimmed up her thigh, parting her legs. His bare chest pressed into her side as his lips nibbled the sensitive flesh beneath her ear. Audrey rotated to her back while his fingers played between her legs, coaxing her easy response. She sighed softly. His tongue traced whorls along her neck and licked at her collarbone.

  She reached up to guide his head to her breast, but her hand found nothing. Her eyes flew open and she felt a rush of cool air.

  She was alone.

  With a jerk, she sat up on the bed, surprised she’d managed to doze off. Judging by the length of candle that had burned, she’d slept a long time—longer than she would’ve thought possible. Why hadn’t anyone awakened her?

  She jumped up and smoothed her hand over the wrinkles of the dress one of the maids had brought her before she’d lain down. If her gown was that rumpled, her hair had to be a fright, but she didn’t give a whit about her appearance. She practically ran from the room and down the stairs.

  The drawing room had been converted once again. Though there still weren’t any silks draping the corners, the round table that sat in the center during vice parties had been moved into place. However, instead of displaying a female in some state of undress, it was surrounded by the men, their heads bent.

  Audrey cleared her throat and they all turned. “What’s going on, and why wasn’t I awakened when you all returned?” Anger coursed through her. It felt good after so many hours of despair and helplessness.

  Lydia came forward, along with Philippa and Olivia, Saxton’s wife. A fourth woman lingered near the settee. Audrey recognized her as Lady Carlyle.

  “I’m sorry, dear.” Lydia said, putting her arm around Audrey and drawing her into the room. “We thought you should sleep as long as possible. We were going to rouse you soon. Would you like a tray of food?”

  Her stomach growled, but she didn’t think she could eat. “Something to drink, perhaps.”

  Lydia nodded and turned away.

  Philippa hugged her. “I’m so sorry. I’m just glad you’re all right. I was so distraught when you disappeared.”

  Audrey knew her abduction from Beckwith had to have frightened Philippa to death, especially given her own kidnapping. She hugged Philippa back. “I’m all right. They didn’
t hurt me.”

  “Thank God.” Philippa stepped back, her eyes glistening.

  Audrey shared a sympathetic gaze with Olivia before moving toward the table. “What are you discussing?”

  They all turned and blocked whatever they were looking at.

  Lockwood came to her side and tried to guide her to the settee. “You should sit down.”

  She shook off his arm and welcomed the rush of frustrated fury. “Please don’t patronize me. Tell me what you know.”

  He nodded. “The good news is that he’s still alive.”

  Relief poured through her, but was short-lived as she realized it couldn’t be that simple. “And the bad news?”

  Lockwood exchanged glances with Carlyle, who came to stand before Audrey. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. He clearly didn’t want to tell her, but eventually said, “Jimmy plans to hang him in the morning.”

  The world felt as if it were falling away beneath her feet. “Hang him?” He should have escaped that threat when Bow Street had dropped the charges.

  Philippa touched her arm. “They’re working on a plan to rescue him.”

  “Yes,” Carlyle said. “And we’ll need your help to describe where he is. I’ve been in many places in St. Giles, but never the Cup and Burrow. It’s heavily guarded, because it’s Jimmy’s stronghold.”

  Audrey relaxed a little, eager to be helpful and appreciative that they were letting her be. “I know how to get there and where he is inside—or at least where he was. I’m very good at direction.” She’d proven that more than once while she and Ethan were running across southwestern England.

  Carlyle smiled at her. “Excellent.” He looked toward the others. “I’m fairly certain we can get in one by one if we’re smart. The challenge will be getting Ethan out of there. We’ll be quite outnumbered, even with Ethan’s loyal followers.”

  She’d seen their reactions to Ethan and believed he had more support than they realized. “When Ethan arrived at the Cup and Burrow today, he tried to convince Jimmy’s men that they’d be better off without him. Some of them seemed swayed. If people knew we were attempting a rescue, they might help us.”

  Carlyle pressed his lips together. “We don’t have much time to rally troops. It’s already nearing midnight.”

  So late? “We have to try.”

  Lockwood stepped away from the table. “I agree. We can go back to the Brazen Bride and spread the word from there.”

  “It’s risky,” Carlyle said, stroking his chin and staring at the table, which had a hand-drawn map sprawled across its top. “If Jimmy hears that we’re attempting to save Ethan, he may just kill him straightaway.”

  Audrey tensed. The situation seemed hopeless. No, she wouldn’t give up. She’d told Ethan she was optimistic, and she would hold on to that—he deserved nothing less.

  Scot set his palms on the table and leaned forward, addressing everyone. “We have to target who we tell and instruct them to spread the word at the latest possible moment.”

  “Yes, we’ll have to map out a plan for that.” Carlyle went back to the table. He seemed to be in charge. “First, however, we need to determine our entrance strategy. We can’t exactly march in through the front door.”

  “I don’t think going in is our best option,” Scot said slowly, glancing around. “Even if we could find a way, getting out would be near impossible. We’d have a better chance out in the open, when they bring Ethan outside to walk him to the scaffold.”

  “Unfortunately, I think you’re right,” Carlyle said. He glanced at Audrey, who was listening to their discussion as if they were at the end of a long tunnel. She could hear them, but there was this dark, hollow space separating her from everyone. “It would, however, be helpful if we could get a person or two into the Cup and Burrow in order to do as Audrey suggested and sway some of them to our cause. It would be even better if we could somehow smuggle information, or even a small weapon, in to Ethan so that he can be prepared when we make our move.”

  Audrey strode toward the table, suddenly realizing her purpose. “I can do it.” Everyone was staring at her, some of them with widened eyes. “There’s a way to get in—if you’re a . . . prostitute. They take in new girls through a back stairway. I was kept in a room where they put the women after they first arrive. If I disguise myself, I could get in.”

  Lydia had come back with a glass of sherry. She moved to Audrey and grabbed her hand. “No, no. That’s far too dangerous.”

  Yes, but it was a good plan and she couldn’t sit around Lockwood House waiting for the outcome. She needed to be a part of this. If they weren’t successful, if Ethan died, and she’d done nothing but wring her hands, she’d never be able to live with herself. “I can do this. I remember those who seemed sympathetic.”

  “I’ll go with her,” Scot said, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’ll drop her off at the back and then go inside for a pint.”

  Sevrin nodded at him. “I could go too. I’m as comfortable in a tavern as I am in a ballroom. More so, actually.”

  Philippa sent him a pained gaze. “Ambrose.”

  Sevrin went and murmured something in Philippa’s ear, then kissed her cheek.

  Audrey wanted these people to help Ethan, but she couldn’t understand why they would offer. His brother, yes, but the rest of them? “Why are you doing this?” she asked of no one in particular.

  They all glanced between one another, but it was Lady Carlyle who spoke. “He saved my life. And Daniel’s. I can’t sit by while he’s hanged.”

  Sevrin put his arm around Philippa’s shoulders. “I was lucky enough to find someone who had faith in me, who gave me the second chance I needed. I can’t turn my back on Ethan knowing he wants to change.” He looked at Saxton. “I can’t begin to fathom why Sax is helping, but I would venture to say he just doesn’t like being left out.”

  Saxton’s pale eyes gleamed. “Just so.”

  A surge of emotion welled up in Audrey. “I can’t thank you all enough.” She took the sherry from Lydia’s hand and toasted them all before taking a sustaining drink.

  “If I thought Daniel would let me, I’d go with you.” Lady Carlyle cracked a smile. “But I’m certain he would say it’s too dangerous.”

  Carlyle went and put his arm around his wife. “St. Giles is no place for any of us, which is why we need to get in and out as quickly as possible. And we need to blend in—that will be the key to our success or failure. If we look like we belong there, we’ll be fine. That is my gravest concern with supporting any of us going. Scot appears to be able to comport himself quite well with the criminal element.” He shot Lockwood’s retainer a speculative glance, to which Scot merely shrugged. “And I daresay Sevrin would be able to make a place for himself. The rest of you lot . . .” He shook his head. “There’s an issue of liability. We need to be focused on getting Ethan and getting out. Only those who can defend themselves should go.” Carlyle’s apologetic gaze settled on Audrey.

  She refused to be left behind. “I can shoot. Probably better than some of you.”

  “A gun will not protect you for long, Miss Cheswick. I know it will be difficult to remain here, but I think you must.”

  All the years of being shoved to the background, of her opinions and desires being ignored, erupted inside of her. She advanced on Carlyle, her lip curling. “Either you include me in your plan or I’ll find a way to get there myself. Wouldn’t it be better if we were all working together?”

  Carlyle blinked at her, then exchanged a questioning look with his wife.

  “She should go,” Lockwood said, sounding quietly authoritative. Perhaps Carlyle wasn’t in charge after all. “Just as I’m going to go. Ethan saved Lydia from Jimmy, and I mean to return the favor.” His gaze took on a tinge of sadness and regret. “He deserves recompense . . . for so many things.”

  Carlyle seemed to understand there was no point in arguing further. He nodded swiftly and turned back to the table. “Then let us prepare ourselves. W
e need to get moving. Ladies, can you put together an appropriate costume for Miss Cheswick?”

  “The clothing from my husband’s parties remains upstairs,” Lydia said. “I haven’t had a chance to clean out all of the rooms. I’m certain we can find something suitable.”

  “I believe I know just where to look.” Philippa directed a half-smile at her husband.

  “And I can make any necessary alterations,” Olivia said. She was an accomplished seamstress and designer. “Plus, I have some experience with how real prostitutes dress. When I’m finished with Audrey, she will look as though she belongs at the Cup and Burrow.” She’d confided to Audrey that she’d resided next to a brothel before she’d gone to live with Saxton’s aunt, Lady Merriweather.

  Lydia, Philippa, and Olivia left while Lady Carlyle moved to stand beside Audrey. She offered an encouraging smile. “What will you do once you get inside?”

  Audrey exchanged looks with Lockwood and Carlyle. “There’s a young woman, Nan, who serves as a maid. She’s particularly”—what was the right word?—“grateful to Ethan. She will help me.” Audrey felt certain Nan would participate in a rescue effort, especially when it included her. She resolved to take the young woman with her when they escaped St. Giles.

  “Won’t they recognize you from earlier?” Lady Carlyle asked.

  “If I make up my face and dress differently, I don’t think they’ll know it’s me.”

  “Olivia will ensure Miss Cheswick is beyond recognition,” Saxton said.

  “What a peculiar lot of people you are,” Lady Carlyle marveled. “When this is all finished and everything is back to normal, I’m hosting a dinner party so that I can hear every one of your interesting stories.” She smiled warmly at Audrey.

  Audrey appreciated Lady Carlyle’s optimism more than she could say.

  Carlyle fixed her with a steady stare. “Now, Miss Cheswick, tell us everything you know about the Cup and Burrow.”