Audrey Sheridan was facing the worst night of her life.

Her mad dash from the seductive arms of Jonathan St. Laurent at the Midnight Garden earlier that afternoon had sent her on a reckless crusade this evening. And that mission was now crumbling around her.

It was all Jonathan’s fault. He had the audacity to waltz into her life at the worst possible moment. When she had decided to marry him after they first met, he’d simply ignored her at every turn. Then when she decided she no longer wanted to marry him because he continued with his cold, aloof manner, he’d ruined that as well by kissing her senseless, showing her a glorious world of pleasure she’d never known existed. And of course, he’d had to rush into the middle of her espionage training like a raging bull, insisting she was the daft one, pulling her into his arms and…

Well. That had been that. She’d dashed away from everything those lips of his promised and straight into this perilous situation. She’d been so desperate to forget her heartbreak that she’d decided to infiltrate a silly hellfire club to uncover the identities of the men involved. She’d heard too many stories of the injustices done to women by these fools, and she intended to expose them in her Lady Society column.

Now she was facing the consequences of her distracted focus. Both she and her lady’s maid, Gillian, were now trapped and at the mercy of the gentlemen of the hellfire club. She would never forgive herself if she couldn’t save them both from these ridiculous fools, the so-called Unholy Sinners of Hell. Did they not appreciate the absurdity of their name? Unholy. Sinners. Of Hell. It was a nonsense attempt at sounding perversely self-important. Audrey would roll her eyes, but the fact was that even with all that pretentiousness and pompousness, Gerald Langley and his inebriated friends were terrifying. Even this deep into their cups, they managed to make her feel utterly boxed in.

You’ve stepped in it now, girl. Audrey chastised herself and shot a glance at Gillian, who sat behind her. She’d intended to leave her friend behind, but Gillian insisted that they had worked together to form the identity of Lady Society, and she wasn’t about to let her mistress go into this danger alone.

And that was how she and Gillian now faced the revenge of the atrocious man she’d shamed in her column. The man’s crimes were many, but she had exposed him for an awful wager he’d made to ruin a lovely young woman’s innocence for sport. Audrey couldn’t stand for that. She’d made it her mission to ensure that Gerald Langley was no longer fit company for any public circles and her attempt at heroism had led her right into his trap.

She’d thought she’d been clever about it, bribing two ladies not to show up tonight, and she and Gillian had planned to take their place. But somehow Langley had discovered the switch. In fact, he had counted on it.

Damn Jonathan’s mouth and his kisses. If she hadn’t been so distracted by him, she might not have fallen for Langley’s tricks. She shivered at the leer she saw behind Langley’s mask as he prowled toward her and Gillian.

“Well, tonight I set the perfect trap and lured Lady Society herself to my door. I let it slip at a ball the other evening that we would be meeting tonight and that she wouldn’t want to miss our entertainment. But which is Lady Society, I wonder?” He paused dramatically. Maybe if she announced herself to be Lady Society, the men would lose interest in Gillian.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter. We will have the pleasure of having both of you.” Langley snapped his fingers. The man on Audrey’s right and the man on Gillian’s left grabbed their arms, jerking them both behind the chair and binding them with rope. The rope cut into Audrey’s bare skin, but she let the pain fuel her rage.

“How dare you, Mr. Langley! I’ll do more than write a bloody article destroying you. I’ll have your bollocks on a silver platter!” She finished with a low growl. She meant it. Langley’s face darkened with rage where the mask showed his mouth and chin. A few men around the table tittered behind their goblets like schoolboys.

Oh dear…

“How dare I? My dear lady,” Langley snarled, “you came here of your own free will. No one forced you here. I daresay there are few who would have any sympathy for a woman who willingly went to a hellfire club. Your reputation will be worthless and your words unfit for print. And that’s only the beginning of what I have planned for you tonight. You wrecked my family, my name—everything! And I will destroy you for it!”

“You got only what you deserved, you bastard!” she snapped.

Langley’s eyes blazed like hot coals before he regained control of himself. Then he looked her way again and smirked.

“And you have the mouth of a whore. I plan to treat you like one.”

She gasped, and her stomach knotted with dread. He could do anything he liked to her and Gillian. She had no way to stop him, and she had just provoked him.

Lord, Jonathan was right—I am trouble.

“Gag them. I wish for silence while we enjoy our feast.” Langley snapped his fingers, and the men on either side of Audrey and Gillian suddenly shoved handkerchiefs in their mouths. Audrey sparked with rage, and she shouted at him despite the gag. The men around her laughed, as though being silenced had also made her unimportant. She glanced around, taking in her surroundings. Twelve men, at least seven servants, a butler, three footmen, a cook and maid, two large windows facing the street. She committed it all to memory, her mind flashing from plan to plan as she tried to think of a way for her and Gillian to escape.

Langley chuckled. “Now I’m famished.” He retrieved a bell by the end of the table near his seat and shook it. The dining room door opened and the footmen entered, bringing the trays with the first course.

“My lord, what about…?” A man close to Audrey pointed at a single empty chair.

“Oh, right.” Langley rolled his eyes and caught the attention of one of the footmen by waving a hand. “Bring in His Unholiness.”

Audrey cringed. His Unholiness? Surely they didn’t claim to have an actual devil, or even the devil to worship?

The footman brought a black cat into the room and placed it gingerly on the table, sliding it a plate of roasted chicken bits. The cat was exceedingly handsome, with a shiny black coat and yellow eyes that glowed in the room’s light. He surveyed every person in the room before he lowered his head, sniffed at the chicken, and began to eat.

Langley must have noticed her staring at the feline.

“Pleased to meet our guest, Lady Society? He’s the oldest member, you see.” Langley’s tone turned falsely solemn. “Ancient, you might say.”

Ancient? Surely he couldn’t believe the cat was the devil himself? Langley was clearly mad. All these men were mad! Gillian tensed beside her, testing her bonds, and Audrey did the same.

Thank heavens Gillian keeps her head in a crisis. Audrey knew she was not as composed as her friend in such dire situations. It was one of the many reasons she loved Gillian like a sister. While most ladies kept a polite, emotional distance from their staff, she and Gilly had been fast friends ever since they met when they were eighteen.

And I put her life at risk.

She caught Gillian’s eye and tried to give a reassuring look, then focused on a plan to get them out of there. If they could find a way to get their wrists freed and the men chose to remove them from the dining room, they could perhaps escape. The front door wasn’t far from the dining room, and if they could reach the street they could call for help or find someplace to hide.

Yes, that could work. It had to.

By the time the feast—if one could call the small portions such a thing—had ended, Langley rose from his chair and held up a pair of black dice. The room hushed.

“Each man shall toss the sacred dice to determine who gets the joy of bedding the one in the purple gown. Then we will cast the die for Lady Society. But rest assured, we have all night, and every man gets a chance with both ladies.”

He held up the dice as though displaying a prized jewel, chuckling darkly as he looked over every face in the room. He waved the dice in the air, acting like a street performer, grinning at a few men closest to him.

Audrey shouted a stream of curses at Langley despite the gag. If any of the men could have heard her words, they would’ve been blushing to the roots of their hair. Her muffled expletives only heightened their laughter, and the dice were passed around until they reached the last gentleman next to Langley. She continued to glare as he accepted the dice and stared at them, his hesitance drawing Audrey’s sharp focus. Why was the man hesitating?

Then he cast the dice. They rattled down the length of the dining room table and came to a stop.

“Twelve!” the man beside him shouted. “By God, you’re lucky bastard!” He slapped the victor on the arm. Audrey stared hard the man, trying to assess him. He didn’t seem as sinister or dreadful as the rest, but given the circumstances, there was no reason to feel any comfort in that at all.

Gillian glanced her way, terror sparking like lightning in her eyes.

I’m so sorry, Gilly. I’ll find a way to save you. I swear it.

“It seems we have our winner,” Langley announced and turned to the man beside him. “Take your pretty prize to any of the upstairs rooms. I’ll give you half an hour, and then we shall roll to see who is next.”

The winner came forward, and the man next to Gillian loosened her wrists from the rope and jerked her to her feet. He slapped her bottom hard, and Gillian let out a cry of pain. Audrey saw red, but there was no way she could break free to help her friend. The victor gripped Gillian’s arm and pulled her out of reach of the man who had slapped her backside.

“This way, my dear,” the victor said.

Audrey worked frantically at the handkerchief wedged in her mouth. She finally spat it out it as Gillian and the man walked past her.

“You touch her and I will kill you!” she vowed. The man’s lips opened as though to speak, but another man beat him to it.

“Hold your tongue, or I will put that mouth of yours to better use,” another man fired back at her.

Audrey stilled. She knew that voice, knew it intimately. She knew what it sounded like as it curled her toes and murmured in her ear and knew it as it was now, threatening and cold. She even knew that voice when it turned strained and paternal, as it reminded her how young, naïve, and careless she was. That voice could raise her hackles like no other, yet she trusted the keeper of that voice with her life.

She turned her head and met Jonathan St. Laurent’s gaze.

The man she adored, the man she despised, the man who had broken her heart. She could see his lovely green eyes watching her. He gave her the barest shake of his head before she could speak. All thoughts of Gillian shifted to the background. If Jonathan was here, he wouldn’t allow Gillian to walk off into danger, which must mean the other man could be trusted. She hoped.

I will put my faith in you, just this once.

She only hoped Jonathan could read that in her expression.

“Well, one lovely dove dealt with. Now to the next!” Langley retrieved the dice and stood, tossing them into the air.

Jonathan rose and reached out over the table close to Langley and caught the dice a second before they would have landed and closed his fingers around them.

“Actually, that won’t be necessary. The lady is coming with me.”

Langley sputtered. “What the devil do you mean?”

Jonathan pulled a pistol out of his coat and aimed it at Langley.

Audrey sucked in a breath. Blood began to roar in her ears so loud she could barely hear the men who started shouting around her in panic. A pistol? What the devil was he thinking?

“I mean your fun is over and we are done with this. This woman is going to be released at once, and she will leave with me.” Jonathan’s voice was full of command. The hand gripping the pistol was steady. Audrey stared at him in awe.

No one dared to speak or even breathe, except for one man who hiccupped and spilled his drink before muttering a curse. Only the black cat on the table moved, its tail twitching back and forth as it watched events unfold.

“Release her. Now.” Jonathan raised the pistol a little higher, aiming for Langley’s heart.

Langley gave a jerk of his head, and the man beside Audrey released her from her bindings. She heard him mutter, “Little bitch,” before she shoved her chair back right into the man’s foot, winning a curse from him. She rubbed her freed wrists.

“Lady Society, if you would come this way.”

Relief flooded her as she moved around the table toward Jonathan. They were going to escape. Even though she was still furious and hurt at the man, she could have kissed him, though that would only lead to more trouble.

As she brushed past Langley, he grabbed her wrist, trying to jerk her in front of him. Jonathan fired the pistol. She and Langley both jerked to a stop. Langley cursed. The bullet had grazed his shoulder. If he hadn’t moved, it would have struck him in the chest. It might have hit her! What was Jonathan thinking?

Langley shoved her into the table in front of her, and she grunted in pain.

“He’s unarmed now! Get him!”

The mob around them had not been prepared for this, however, and most wanted no part of it. Everyone began to move all at once, screaming, shouting, feet and hands fighting as the guests rushed from the room or tried to push forward toward Jonathan. Someone ran into her from behind, knocking the breath from her. She saw Jonathan throw his pistol to the floor and lunge for her, but there were too many drunken men stumbling around, the ones trying to stop him colliding with the ones trying to get away. Langley was almost to the door now. He was getting away.

“Oh no you don’t!” She lunged for him but tripped on her gown, ripping it. Langley vanished through the entryway.

Coward. She was tempted to go after him, but a number of the men in the room were far too drunk to be smart cowards like Langley. One of them reached for her, but she ducked. Her gown tore at the hem as her boots caught on it, and she fell. The man attempting to grab her collided with her, tripped over her, and smacked into the rug beneath them with a pained grunt.

“Stay under the table!” Jonathan hissed. “Otherwise you’ll keep tripping on that dress and fall right out of it!”

She was tempted to ignore him, but he was right. The last thing she wanted to do was run about naked during a brawl in a hellfire club. She moved deeper under the table, watching the men fight. She recognized Jonathan’s lean legs as he danced on his feet, using the general confusion of the room to his advantage. He moved with a grace that she had seen her brother use often enough sparring in his leisure room in Brighton, yet somehow Jonathan made it even more beautiful.

“Come on, you bloody bastards!” Jonathan roared.

Audrey gasped as a man grappled with him and shoved him hard against the table. Several dishes and a candelabra dropped to the floor. Audrey gripped the base of the heavy item and crawled forward, watching the battle of the booted feet in front of her, holding her breath. She smacked the shin of the nearest leg that didn’t belong to Jonathan, and she crowed in triumph as her victim hopped in agony.

“Take that!” She struck again. “And that!” She felt a flood of wicked glee at striking these awful men. They had ruined so many lives to satisfy their depraved lusts and vices.

“Mreow.” An angry sound drew her focus away from the fight. She saw the black cat a few feet away, also hiding under the table, its ears flat against its head. Yet it did not flee as she approached.

Crack! Another pistol fired, and Audrey screamed for Jonathan, afraid he’d been shot. Terror seized her. She grabbed the cat as it tried to bolt away and tucked it under one arm. She crawled out from under the table, hoping to find Jonathan had cleared a path to escape.

The tide had turned against her rescuer, however. He was being held down by two men who now took turns punching his stomach. She ran to the fire, grabbed a poker, and rushed at the nearest man, smacking him in the back. The man let go of Jonathan and howled like a wild animal as he turned on her. Audrey scrambled back, clutching both the cat and the poker, waving it like a fencing foil.

But her attack had allowed Jonathan to gain the upper hand once again, throwing punches like a professional pugilist, and before the man approaching her got a step farther, Jonathan had grabbed him and tossed him into one of his companions. For a brief second, her heart soared before the odds turned against Jonathan once again. There were simply too many of them.

Her mouth dropped open as the last person in the world she expected to see burst in through the doorway—James Fordyce, the Earl of Pembroke, flushed and covered with dust.

“What—?” she began, then cheered as James grabbed a man and tossed him over the table while fighting to reach Jonathan. Audrey maneuvered deeper into the dining room, toward Jonathan and James.

“Lord Pembroke! Heavens!” Audrey cried out. “I’m so glad to see you! Where’s Gillian?”

“She’s there.” He waved behind him. “I’ll take her to safety. St. Laurent, we can rendezvous tomorrow, once it’s safe.”

“Right.” Jonathan swung a hard punch at the man he’d been sparring with, who promptly fell flat on his backside. Audrey whacked a drunken man with a well-aimed blow to the nether regions as she hurried to Jonathan. The man fell to his knees, issuing a high-pitched squeal. No one immediately around them seemed willing to continue the fight, but there was always the chance that those who’d run off were finding their nerve and planning to come back. Jonathan moved to the window facing the street and shoved the sill up, clearing a path for them to escape.

“Out you go,” he barked.

She hastened to obey and slipped over the edge, dropping to the ground. The cat escaped her fumbling, shaking hands and landed beside her, his back arched with black fur standing on end.

“Careful!” Audrey grabbed him just in time to avoid being crushed when Jonathan landed beside her.

“Are you all right?” Jonathan asked as he leaned over her in the dim moonlight.

“I think so.” But she wasn’t. A storm of fear and panic was growing inside her, and she knew if she didn’t get somewhere quiet and safe, she would soon break down.

Her anxieties seemed to show clearly enough for him to read. “Oh dear,” Jonathan whispered, and then he curled an arm around her waist before whisking her down the street. “Come on, we must keep moving. I promise to take you somewhere safe.”

Her booted feet ached as they seemed to run forever. The cat felt remarkably heavy in her arms, but she couldn’t seem to let go of him. Perhaps more remarkably, the cat didn’t fight her.

They turned the nearest corner, exiting the Temple Bar district, and a hackney stood waiting for them. Jonathan paid the driver and helped her inside. She set the cat down on the seat beside her. It flattened its ears again but made no move to strike, nor did it hiss.

Jonathan’s breath escaped in loud pants as he leaned back in the seat across from her. His lip was split, and several red welts shadowed his jaw and cheeks. Sweat gleamed upon his skin, and he looked utterly masculine and wonderful. She wanted to crawl onto his lap to kiss him and burrow into him. Her heart was still pounding, and she wanted to be nowhere else but in his arms. But that couldn’t happen.

He gingerly touched his ribs, moaning before he finally looked at her. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he was going to lecture her, and heaven knew she deserved it for once. But his gaze changed, deepened, and her breaths came faster and hope fluttered in her chest.

“Did you hit a man with