Chapter Nine
Julian stared at the necklace coiled on the table in front of him and waited for it to rear up, spitting and hissing, and sink its poisoned fangs into his wrist.
Devon pushed it toward him with one finger. “You heard the lady, Captain. Why don’t you take your winnings?”
Why, indeed? She’d wagered and she’d lost. The necklace was his now.
“Lady Hadley’s debt to you is settled whether you take it or not.” Underlying Devon’s polite tone was a note of cold warning. “She owes you nothing now.”
You’re going to lose, Lady Hadley.
But she hadn’t, because he didn’t want her money, her vowels, or her jewels. All he wanted was her promise, but he hadn’t realized its worth until she tossed her necklace onto the table as if her word was more precious than gold and amethysts.
Perhaps it was.
But the necklace—it was nothing more than a diversion, a glittering consolation prize. Julian couldn’t bring himself to touch the thing.
Devon didn’t have such scruples. When Julian made no move to take the necklace, he reached for it himself. Before he could grasp it, however, a slim hand plucked it up from the table.
Julian looked up. Lady Tallant was looking down at him, her blue eyes measuring. She cradled the necklace in her hand—the amethysts winked up at him from the center of her white, kid-gloved palm. “Hold out your hand, Captain West.”
Strangely, he didn’t think to disobey, but simply held out his hand. Lady Tallant dropped the necklace into his palm, and he closed his fingers instinctively around it. The stones were still warm.
She turned to Devon. “My lord. May I have a word?” She took Devon’s arm and led him away, but before they disappeared into the knot of people around the Hazard table she shot a quick, meaningful glance at Julian and gestured with her chin toward the door.
Was she ordering him to leave, or—
All at once he understood. Lady Tallant knew Devon would go after Charlotte, and for some inexplicable reason she wanted Julian to get to her friend first.
It was what an infatuated swain would do, and as far as the widows knew, he was the infatuated swain in this scenario. Besotted gentlemen didn’t snatch their beloved’s jewels as forfeit for a wager, and then sit and stare stupidly at those jewels while their lady dashed off into the night, alone and unprotected. They charged after her, begged her forgiveness, and wrapped the ill-gotten jewels around her alabaster neck.
He lurched to his feet, stuffed the necklace into his waistcoat pocket next to Colin’s watch, and stumbled to the door. He looked back once before it closed behind him. Devon hadn’t yet emerged from the drawing room, but Julian had seen the man’s face when Charlotte fled the room. Lady Tallant wouldn’t be able to hold him for long.
The courtyard was empty. No doubt Charlotte was halfway to her carriage by now. Even if he did manage to catch her, Devon would be upon them in mere minutes, and—
Julian went still, listening. If the courtyard hadn’t been so silent, he would have missed it, a quiet gasp for breath, or a muffled sob. There was an alcove to his left, a doorway set deep into the wall. He crept forward, his shadow growing blacker and more monstrous against the building as he edged closer and closer.
Charlotte darted from the alcove in a whirl of purple skirts and leapt for the narrow passageway that let out onto the street, but Julian was faster. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her back into the recess. She twisted frantically in his grip, but he nudged his much larger body into hers to hold her against the wall.
“Captain West! Have you gone mad? Release me this instant.”
“Quiet.” In another few seconds Devon would be in the courtyard, but there was a chance he’d pass right by them if only she’d stop shrieking.
She shoved against his chest. “Dear God, you have gone mad. I will not be quiet—”
He grasped her wrists and held them flat against the wall to still her.
“Captain! You’re hurting me!”
Julian instantly loosened his hold, but he slid one hand up her arm and wrapped his fingers lightly around her elbow, where her gloves gave way to bare skin.
“Let go of me,” she hissed. “You take this too far.”
Damn it. He covered her mouth with his hand. “Your champion is about to charge out here to rescue you, my lady. It’ll be damn unpleasant if he finds us, as I don’t intend to relinquish you to his care.”
That gave her pause. She went still, her eyes huge, dark pools above the hand he held over her mouth.
Her mouth.
In his haste Julian had left his gloves behind, and now her lips, soft and half open, were pressed against his bare hand, her warm breath teasing his palm. He stared down at her, a memory tickling at the edge of his consciousness, one so sweet it made him ache with loss.
A moment with her, a lifetime ago, the night like dark velvet wrapped around them, and the sky above heavy with stars. She’d taken his hand in hers and pressed her lips against his palm, and he’d gone half mad with wanting her, loving her.
He closed his eyes against the feel of her lips against his skin, at the sight of her chest heaving within her tight bodice, but she was close, so close he no sooner denied one sensation than others overwhelmed him. Her shallow, panting breaths became deafening, her sweet lemon scent so intense he could taste it on his tongue. He moved into her, so his body pressed into hers, her breasts flat against his chest, and for a fleeting moment he felt everything he thought he’d lost forever.
He felt her.
On the other side of the courtyard a door opened, and the low murmur of voices reached them from the passageway beyond. Julian dimly registered the rustle of silk skirts, a female voice calling something, the click of a man’s pumps against the stones, loud at first, then fading as he hurried through the passageway into the street beyond.
The courtyard fell silent again. Devon had gone.
Julian lifted his hand from her mouth and she drew in an unsteady breath, but neither of them said a word. She swallowed, and he rested his hand against her long, white throat to feel the movement.
“I—what do you think you’re doing, dragging me in here?”
“Hiding you from your lover.” His tongue wrapped around the word lover, his voice a low, hoarse whisper.
“I don’t have a lover.” Her own whisper was so soft he had to lean closer to hear her.
“Not yet, but you will. You’ll have Devon.”
Deny it. Please.
But she didn’t. She didn’t speak, only watched him with dark, fathomless eyes.
He dragged his fingertips across her jaw and down her neck. “What will he do when he finds you’ve eluded him tonight?”
Her throat moved against his palm again. “He doesn’t need to do anything. He’ll have another chance tomorrow night.”
“Oh, my lady,” he murmured, stroking his thumb across her cheek. “I wouldn’t depend on it.”
Her lashes brushed her cheeks, hid her eyes. “I don’t depend on anything or anyone but myself, Captain.”
He touched a fingertip to her bottom lip. “I think you do. I think you depend on Devon. I think he’s the reason you won’t go home.”
“Home?” She laughed, but her face paled. “Which home would that be? Grosvenor Square? Bellwood? Or all the way to Hampshire, to Hadley House?”
She didn’t flinch from his touch, but stared back at him with eyes so wide and dark he could see his reflection mirrored in them. And the man who stared back… Who was he? For one moment he thought he might find Julian there, but the man who looked back at him was a stranger—a man he didn’t recognize.
He stared down at her. He’d known her once—the sound of his name on her lips, the caress of her fingers against the back of his neck. He’d known what mattered to her, what made her laugh, what moved her, but now…
Lady Hadley was as foreign to him as he was to himself. A stranger.
That night under the stars was nothing but a memory, a moment from another man’s lifetime, and even if he could get it back, he wouldn’t know what to do with it. He didn’t have that kind of love inside him anymore. He’d traded it for a dark abyss of rage and regret.
And she… He didn’t know what she’d traded her soul for, and he didn’t want to.
He released her chin and backed away from her so their bodies were no longer touching. “Hampshire or Bellwood. Whichever you choose. It makes no difference where you go, as long as you leave London.”
This time her laugh carried an edge of panic. “It makes a difference to me, and I choose neither.”
“Neither. Now why would that be, Lady Hadley? I confess myself curious. Surely Hadley House is a grand estate, one befitting a lady of your elevated rank. A magnificent manor house, with sweeping grounds, I imagine?”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Grand, yes—massive really, with rooms upon rooms upon rooms. It’s an estate without an end.”
An unexpected shudder chased itself down Julian’s back at this description. She hadn’t said anything disparaging, but at the same time she made the place sound…disturbing. Sinister. It was all nonsense, of course, an absurd fancy of hers. Cam had told him Hadley House was one of England’s truly exceptional homes—the pride of Hampshire. Charlotte couldn’t have any reason not to return to it.
“It sounds, ah, lovely.” It didn’t, but one lie deserved another. “But perhaps Bellwood suits you better. It would be the easiest thing in the world for you to travel there with Cam and Ellie at the end of next week, and stay through the winter.”
Her face was expressionless. “Easier for who, Captain?”
“For everyone concerned, but particularly for Ellie. She became nearly ill with distress when she saw Devon enter your box tonight. Her health is delicate right now, or had you forgotten that?”
Her voice sounded small. “I’ve forgotten nothing, Julian.”
Don’t say my name. Don’t make me feel.
“You’ve shown no concern for your family, or made any attempt at self-restraint.”
Her eyes went hard. “You have high ideals, Captain, for a man with a pocketful of jewels.”
Her necklace felt as heavy against his chest as if he’d stolen it, but he managed a shrug. “Perhaps you shouldn’t wager what you can’t bear to lose.”
A strange smile crossed her lips, then was gone in an instant. “I think you’d be surprised at what I can bear to lose.”
He dragged a thumb across her lower lip as if he could catch that odd smile, hold it up to the light, and study it. “A few jewels in place of a promise. Why not promise me whatever I ask, and then break it tomorrow?”
Again, that strange smile. “Because I’m not a liar.”
They stared at each other until Charlotte looked away. “I imagine you wish to escort me to Grosvenor Square, to see I’m confined inside my house? Not out of any concern for me, of course, but because you told Ellie and Cam you would?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but edged to the side, careful not to touch him as she passed. He followed her out into the empty courtyard, through the passageway and down the street a short way to her waiting carriage. Once inside she tucked herself tightly into a corner and turned her face to the window.
She wants to make herself small. To disappear.
Somehow he knew at once this was true, and yet it was so at odds with everything he believed about her, it seemed impossible. “Why do you—”
No. It didn’t matter why. Let her go to Hadley House if she wanted to hide. What had she called it? An estate without an end. It was the perfect place to disappear, then. “Why do you insist upon staying in London? What do you want?”
She turned her gaze from the window to face him. “Why do you want to know, Captain? Do you suppose you can give it to me? Ah, well. Perhaps you can. Perhaps all I need is a hero to save me from myself.”
He gave a short laugh. “You’re wasting your time with Devon, then. He sure as hell isn’t interested in saving you, except for himself. He’s no hero.”
She turned away from him, back to the window. “I’ve never had much use for heroes.”
Just as well, because they don’t exist.
They rode in silence through the streets until the carriage drew to a stop in front of Charlotte’s townhouse in Grosvenor Square. “The carriage will take you on to Bedford Square. Good evening, Captain.”
She’d stepped down and turned away before Julian noticed the carriage—black, crested, and luxuriously appointed—waiting on the other side of the street.
Devon. The man couldn’t seem to stay away from her.
Julian slid across the seat and through the open door. “One moment, if you would, Lady Hadley.” He took her arm. “I insist upon escorting you inside.”
Despite the late hour, the heavy front door flew open before they reached the top stair. “My lady, Lord Devon is here, and he insists upon seeing you at once…oh.” The butler fell silent when he caught sight of Julian. “I beg your pardon, my lady.”
Charlotte drew off her gloves and handed them to the servant. “Disconcerting, isn’t it, Nelson, to have two gentleman callers at once, and it not even calling hours? No, there’s no need to take Captain West’s coat. He won’t be staying.”
“Very good, my lady.”
She turned to Julian. “As you can see, I’m quite safe now. I do thank you for your extreme attentiveness, Captain. Good evening.”
Julian deliberately leaned a hip against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, no, Lady Hadley. I can’t possibly take my leave before Lord Devon does. It wouldn’t be proper. Your family wouldn’t like it. Would they, Nelson?”
Nelson’s stammering reply was cut off when the drawing room door opened and Lord Devon, who’d no doubt heard the argument, emerged. “Forgive the intrusion, my lady.” He went to Charlotte and took her hands in his. “But I couldn’t rest until I knew you were well.”
“You’re very kind, my lord. I’m sorry to have spoiled your evening—”
“But as you see, she’s perfectly well,” Julian interrupted in freezing tones. “No need to linger then, is there, Devon?”
Devon didn’t take any notice of him. “You didn’t spoil my evening, I assure you. I’m off to join our friends even now.” Devon hesitated, then lowered his voice. “You’ll be all right? I know you prefer not to spend time alone here.”
Julian straightened up from his relaxed pose against the wall. Bellwood, Hadley House, and now Grosvenor Square? Lady Hadley, it seemed, didn’t want to be…anywhere.
“You’re very good, my lord, but it’s all right.” She smiled up at Devon—not the strange half smile she’d given Julian, but one that reached her eyes.
Devon brushed his lips across her glove. “Then I can be easy. Good evening, my lady.” He turned to Julian with a correct bow, but his eyes were like a blue lake frozen under layers of ice. “Good evening, Captain West.” He accepted his coat and hat from Nelson, strolled through the door and was gone.
Any trace of the warm smile Charlotte had bestowed on Devon vanished when she turned to Julian. “Are you satisfied?”
He was far from satisfied, but unfortunately he hadn’t the slightest excuse to be displeased with Devon’s behavior. The man had been a perfect gentleman. “For now.”
“Then I’ll bid you good night.” Charlotte swept up the stairs without another word, leaving Nelson to show him out.
Julian half hoped to find Devon’s carriage lingering in the street so he had just cause to land a fist in his lordship’s excessively handsome face, but the black crested carriage was gone.
Bedford Square was quiet when he arrived. He began to mount the stairs, but then turned abruptly and made his way down the hallway to Cam’s study. He couldn’t face his bedchamber tonight.
He stripped off his coat and cravat, paused at the sideboard to pour a glass of whiskey, and then dropped into his chair before the fire. After a moment he reached into his waistcoat pocket, withdrew Colin’s watch, and flicked open the lid. The hands remained frozen in their places. Foolish, the way he checked it every day, as if he could somehow trip time back into motion if he only looked at the watch at the right moment.
He dug into his pocket again, took out Charlotte’s necklace, and dangled it between his fingers. The fire lit up the amethysts so a flame seemed to burn deep inside them.
Colin’s watch, and now Charlotte’s necklace.
I adore it. It’s one of my favorite pieces.
Yet for all that she’d tossed it onto the table in front of him, her chin in the air, and refused to let him humble her. Refused to lie.
Julian closed his fist around the treasures, leaned his head back against the chair, and stared into the fire, let the flames hypnotize him with their sinuous dance. They burned lower, then lower still; their edges grew fuzzy…
He’d give the necklace back to her. He’d drape it around her neck himself so he could brush the soft skin at her nape with his fingertips, and then maybe she’d smile at him the way she’d smiled at Devon tonight.
His eyes fell to half-mast, then drifted closed.
The glittering amethyst stones of her choker are cool and slick against his tongue. He kisses her neck, opens his lips over the stones, and takes them into his mouth. She trembles against him, turns, says something, but he can’t quite hear her. His hands fill with slippery purple silk as he pulls her closer, feels her breath as she whispers in his ear… Do you suppose you can give me what I want, Julian? He wants to answer her, tries to answer, but the stones multiply, grow enormous in his mouth and lodge in his throat. Her face tunnels as the stones choke him into unconsciousness, but before the darkness can take him she tears the necklace roughly from his mouth and the amethysts cut him, slice into his cheeks and tongue and he tastes blood and then he’s Colin, blood pouring from his mouth…
He shuddered into consciousness, gasping for breath.
Jesus. Where am I? Where…
Cam’s study. The fire was dead in the grate, and the room had gone cold.