by Lauren Smith
Emily was not so restrained. “I would have given the world to see that!” she said, gasping for air, laughing.
Horatia was wiping tears from her eyes. Audrey was back to her old self, imitating Charles’s fall off the couch when she’d kissed him. She made a theatrical squawk and toppled to the floor with a thud. By now Horatia was laughing so hard she could scarcely breathe.
One floor below, Lucien and the other members of the League gazed up at the drawing room’s ceiling. Arms crossed over his chest, he raised a brow as they listened to the strange noises from above.
There was a loud shriek, a thud, and hoots of unrestrained laughter.
“What the deuce is going on up there?” Charles asked.
“Probably jumping on the beds,” Cedric grumbled.
“They’re no longer children,” said Lucien. “Someone should tell them.”
“Do you suppose it was wise to leave them alone up there?” Godric asked. His head was tilted like a dog hearing strange sounds.
“They’re fine.” Now that he’d caught them up on more relevant events, Lucien had to bring them back to the point of the meeting. Lives were in danger. “Now, what are we going to do about this threat?”
“Waverly won’t succeed,” Cedric said with confidence. “We can defend ourselves.”
“Nevertheless,” said Godric, “it would be unwise if one of us wasn’t keeping an eye on you and your sisters. Even if Waverly intends to kill you, they might get harmed in the crossfire.”
“I don’t intend to let them leave the house,” said Cedric. “If they absolutely must, they’ll have an escort.”
“We mustn’t forget how easily the defenses here were breached in the fall,” Ashton reminded the others. “That was a close call with the man who stole Emily. This is a house, not a fortress.”
Lucien vowed never to feel that helpless protecting Horatia.
But Cedric could not be pulled so easily from his previous source of rage. “Before we discuss Horatia, I need to defend Audrey from that damned bloody cur,” Cedric shot a finger at Charles, “who seduced her in a bloody coach!”
“I did not seduce her, Cedric.” Charles raised his hands in defense in case Cedric lunged at him again. “I warned you she ought to marry soon. You’re lucky she came to me first. Another man might have actually taken advantage of her.”
“Are you saying you didn’t touch her?” Cedric demanded.
“Touch? Yes, but I didn’t kiss her. She asked for my assistance to make her look compromised.”
“Look compromised? You bastard!” Cedric looked ready to go after Charles again. “Women have been ruined for such a thing as a lustful glance, and you go and muss up my sister? What if word got out to the Quizzing Glass of her appearance? Then she would never find a suitor.”
Ashton stepped between the two of them, throwing up a hand to prevent Cedric from advancing.
“Come now, gentlemen.” Ashton’s steely tone stopped the two men. “Do we need to solve this in a ring?”
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Godric said with a wry grin. “But if it does come to it, I’ll stake ten pounds on Charles.”
Both Cedric and Charles shared cautious looks with one another before declining, perhaps in part because none of the others would take that bet. Ashton dropped his hand when he seemed satisfied that Cedric would not resume trying to kill Charles. Lucien gave a sigh of relief. He had no desire to jump between his friends. Charles was a champion boxer and Lucien didn’t want a blackened eye simply because he’d try to impose peace. If Ashton wished to risk his face, that was entirely up to him.
Jonathan, who had lingered at the edge of the group, suddenly spoke up. “Is this how all of your League meetings go? Perhaps we might focus ourselves back on the real problem and the importance of protecting the ladies.”
Ashton turned to Cedric, his voice hard. “Quite right, Jonathan. Back to the matter at hand. I think it would be best, Cedric, if you take Horatia and Audrey away from London, at least until the rest of us sort this out.”
“You want me to turn tail and run?” Cedric looked shocked and outraged at the very idea.
“You know I would never ask that of you.” Ashton’s voice was softer now. “But for your sisters’ sake, yes. You’d grab them and run to the ends of the earth if it would protect them. We all know this.”
The fierce resistance in Cedric wavered against the persuasive power of Ashton’s reasonable request.
Cedric slumped. “Where would you have me go then?”
Godric chimed in. “Some place Waverly would not immediately think to look for you.”
Lucien’s heartbeat kicked up as he realized the perfect place to keep Horatia safe. “How about my estate in Kent? You could take your sisters there and stay until the New Year. My mother is in residence along with Lysandra and Linus, so you’d be properly entertained.” He didn’t need to add that, should Hugo’s men make discreet enquiries as to where they might have gone, Lucien’s estate would be the last name on their lists.
Getting the Sheridan sisters out of London seemed like a very good plan. Anything to get them out of the line of danger, and Horatia away from him. Two birds with one stone, so they say.
“That’s an excellent idea,” Ashton agreed. “The rest of us can remain here and attempt to sort this mess out. Lucien, you’ll accompany Cedric and his sisters, of course.”
“What?” Lucien sputtered. That was the worst idea in the history of the world. Put him in his estate with Horatia where he knew every nook and cranny he could secret her away to? Damnation! “I could be of more use dealing with Hugo’s men,” he countered.
“It is your estate,” Ashton reminded him in a firm tone. “And you were also the first one targeted in these attacks. You will escort Cedric and his sisters. Hopefully this issue will be resolved before Christmas. If not, then you will be with your family for the holidays.”
That did not make the situation any more appealing. Lucien fought the urge to stamp his feet like a boy in a temper tantrum. Jonathan shared a sympathetic look with him, as though he seemed to know just what being around Horatia would do to him. Was that how Jonathan felt around Audrey; did he have an interest in the younger Sheridan woman, the way she did in him?
Here he was trying to do the decent thing and stay away from temptation, and Ashton was practically handing Horatia to him on a silver platter. He needed her to be safe—not just from the Waverly but from himself. Having her so close to his bed at home was the opposite of safe.
What other choice did he have though?
“Fine,” Lucien said with poor grace. “I will go with Cedric.”
He didn’t want to spend hours in a coach with Horatia, and he certainly did not want to be stuck at his estate with her over the holidays. It was worse knowing that his mother would be there. She had an irritating way of meddling in his affairs, and he feared she would interfere with Horatia. His mother had a soft spot for the Sheridans, Horatia in particular. Letting his mother near Horatia would be more trouble than he wanted to deal with.
“When should we leave?” Cedric asked Ashton.
“As soon as possible. Do you think your sisters could be ready by first light?”
Cedric barked out a harsh laugh. “First light tomorrow? Absolutely not. You must at least give Audrey a day to pack or the little devil will harass me about it all the way to Kent.”
“A day then, but I want the lot of you packed and in your carriages before the sun rises.” Ashton was deadly serious. “Godric and I will go tomorrow morning to the Midnight Garden and see if we can’t catch the two men from last night at their arranged time. I’d like to see for myself if there is any proof it was Waverly. We need to know what we’re up against.”
“Now that’s all settled,” Cedric growled, “would all of you mind getting the hell out of my house?”
“Capital idea,” Godric said. His eyes then drifted to the ceiling.
“It’s awfully quiet up there,” Jonathan observed.
“Too quiet,” Lucien agreed. Suddenly anxious, the six men proceeded out of the drawing room and up the stairs towards Horatia’s room. The door was still locked. Lucien leaned against the wood and listened. Not a sound came from within.
Chapter Ten
“Do you hear them?” Charles asked.
Cedric held a finger to his lips.
Lucien strained to hear even the smallest rustle or creak, but heard nothing. Cautiously, Cedric unlocked and opened the door. The bedchamber was empty. The windows were closed and latched and there was no sign of the women.
“Ash?” Godric said in a low whisper. Ashton nodded and proceeded inside, his sharp gaze leaving nothing unseen. There was no evidence the women had hidden themselves. No sign of hasty departure. They had simply vanished.
“Where the bloody hell is my wife?” Godric yelled into the aether.
As if in response, a footman came up the stairs and handed Cedric a slip of paper. Dumbfounded, Cedric opened it and read it aloud.
My Dear Gentlemen,
We await you in the dining room. Please do not join us until you have decided upon a course of action regarding the threat to Lord Sheridan. We will be more than delighted to offer our opinions on the matter, but in truth, we suspect you do not wish to hear our thoughts. It is a failing of the male species, and we shan’t hold it against you. In the future, however, it would be advisable not to lock us in a room. We simply cannot resist a challenge, something you should have learned by now. Intelligent women are not to be trifled with.
Fondest Regards,
~The Society of Rebellious Ladies~
“Fondest regards?” Lucien scoffed.
A puzzled Jonathan added, “Society of Rebellious Ladies?”
“Lord help us!” Ashton groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. “They’ve named themselves.”
“I’ll wager a hundred pounds that Emily’s behind this. Having a laugh at our expense,” Charles said in all seriousness.
“Let’s go and see how rebellious they are when we’re done with them.” Cedric rolled up the sleeves of his white lawn shirt as he and the others stalked down the stairs to the dining room. They found it empty. The footman reappeared and Cedric wondered if perhaps the man had never left. At the servant’s polite cough he handed Cedric a second note.
“Another damn note? What are they playing at?” He practically tore the paper in half while opening it. Again he read it aloud.
Did you honestly believe we’d display our cunning in so simple a fashion? Surely you underestimated us. It is quite unfair of you to assume we could not baffle you for at least a few minutes. Perhaps you should look for us in the place where we ought to have been and not the place you put us.
Best Wishes,
~The Society of Rebellious Ladies~
“I am going to kill her,” Cedric said. It didn’t seem to matter which of the three rebellious ladies he meant.
The League of Rogues headed back to the drawing room. Cedric flung the door open. Emily was sitting before the fire, an embroidery frame raised as she pricked the cloth with a fine pointed needle. Audrey was perusing one of her many fashion magazines, eyes fixed on the illustrated plates, oblivious to any disruption.
Horatia had positioned herself on the window seat near a candle, so she could read her novel. Even at this distance Lucien could see the title, Lady Eustace and the Merry Marquess, the novel he’d purchased for her last Christmas. For some reason, the idea she would mock him with his own gift was damned funny. He had the sudden urge to laugh, especially when he saw a soft blush work its way up through her. He’d picked that particular book just to shock her, knowing it was quite explicit in parts since he’d read it himself the previous year.
“Ahem,” Cedric cleared his throat. Three sets of feminine eyes fixed on him, each reflecting only mild curiosity.
Emily smiled. “Oh there you are.”
“Are you finished with your little meeting?” Audrey asked, setting down her magazine and smiling up at her brother.
The way she’d said “little meeting” left Lucien with no doubt they were having fun at their expense, or perhaps it was her biting her bottom lip to prevent her laughter that gave her away. Regardless, Cedric’s sisters had challenged the men and they were in no mood to play games. Especially Cedric.
“You.” Cedric pointed to Audrey. “Bed, now!” His accusing finger then swept towards Emily. “Since when do you embroider? I distinctly recall you telling me once that such a thing was a complete and utter waste of time.”
“Considering your rather callous behavior tonight in leaving us out of your decisions, I decided to renew the rather useless habit,” Emily replied as though speaking of the weather. She politely held up the embroidery hoop, which was festooned with flowers around a simple phrase every single man in the room could read, Never Challenge a Woman. Lucien could only imagine how she must have embroidered that in so short a time.
“We left you out of it because this matter doesn’t concern any of you ladies. Besides, it is a delicate and dangerous situation,” Cedric said.
“Hmm,” Emily responded, the feminine sound came out strangely condescending. “Perhaps we ladies are keeping you out of a dangerous situation and haven’t bothered to inform you of our intentions. If you insist on keeping us in the dark, we will persist in our efforts to keep all of you alive regardless of your belief that we are incapable females.”
Godric frowned. “No one said you were incapable. You know we don’t think that, Emily.”
Horatia came to Emily’s defense. “She’s right. You keep secrets from us that will only divide us and put us all at risk. You will explain yourself, Cedric. I will not leave this house until you tell me what you and the others have planned.”
“Fine, tomorrow morning, I’ll tell you, but not tonight. It’s late and everyone needs their rest,” her brother shot back.
“Nonsense, you can tell us right now,” Emily insisted.
“Godric, collect your wife and take her home before I use her as a pincushion,” Cedric threatened.
Godric, who tried to hide an appreciative smirk, seemed to find his wife’s besting of the men most amusing. At Cedric’s impatient tone, however, he jumped into action.
“Come along, Em. I believe you’ve made your point for now.” He picked up the embroidered frame and tossed it on a nearby empty chair. He then wrapped an arm about her waist to pull her to him, planting a kiss on her brow.
“You wouldn’t let him use me as pincushion would you, darling?” she asked, twining her arm through his after he released her.
“Never, my dear. He’s just annoyed that he can’t figure how you got out of Horatia’s room when he locked you in, or come here undetected.”
Emily cast an arrogant glance at Cedric’s direction. “And he never will.”
“But you’ll tell me, won’t you?” Godric looked down at his wife in adoration.
“Perhaps, if you entice me enough.”
“Are you asking me to seduce you?”
“What else would I be asking?” Emily laughed.
“Oh for the love of all that is holy! Take her away Godric,” Cedric pleaded. Shows of such tender teasing always seemed to distress him.
“He’s right, Emily, we ought to go home.” He tucked her into his side as he escorted her from the room.
“I should be going as well.” Ashton bowed to the others and departed in Godric and Emily’s wake.
“Jonathan, would you be so kind as to return Audrey upstairs? She seems not to have heard me when I told her to go to bed,” Cedric said.
Jonathan tried to argue. “Under the circumstances, tonight I would prefer not to, what with your reacti
on to Charles—”
“Unlike Charles, you have a sense of honor. I trust you enough to escort her upstairs.”
Charles and Lucien watched the scene unfold with no small amount of amusement. Cedric seemed oblivious to the position he was putting Jonathan in. Lucien opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it when he noticed Cedric’s scowl.
“And you!” Cedric finally turned his wrath to Horatia but found himself unable to do anything with it. “Well, er, I’ll get back to you.” He turned to Charles and without warning, punched him square in the eye.
“That is for compromising my sister, you scoundrel. I hope it blackens well and warns women against straying from their moral compasses in your presence, at least for a sennight.”
Charles groaned and clutched his face. “I was helping Audrey. If you don’t understand that, then I will take my leave and see you again when your temper has cooled.” He mockingly bowed to them and departed. Without another word Cedric left the drawing room, slamming the door behind him.
Audrey watched the two remaining men, Lucien and Jonathan, as they stood at the opposite end of the drawing room. Jonathan eyed Audrey with hesitation, then looked to Lucien, who shrugged indifferently. She bit her lip, trying not to smile. Watching him squirm was more than a little amusing.
“Miss Audrey, would you please accompany me upstairs? I should like to—” but Audrey cut him off.
“No, I don’t think I shall,” she declared. All of the men had been so boorish this evening she wasn’t about to give ground, not even for him.
She reached for her fashion magazine again. Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. She feigned a yawn, noting the way his nostrils flared and his fists clenched. There was a wicked pleasure to be found in getting under his skin. She knew he only wanted to cement his role in the League and she was making that difficult.
“She needs a firm hand, Jonathan. Show her who’s in charge,” Lucien encouraged as he leaned back against the wall, grinning.
Jonathan grimaced and walked over to Audrey’s chair.