One Naughty Night2 (21 page)

“I’d much rather be here,” he answered. He looked up into her face, his eyes searching hers. “I want to know what really happened tonight, Lily. But I can see that you’re very tired.”

She nodded. Her head suddenly felt light, her whole
body aching with everything that had happened. “Yes, I am.”

“Then I’ll take you and your brother home. But you
will
tell me everything that happened. Very soon.”

Lily slowly climbed up the wide stone steps into the almost-sacred hush of the British Museum as she closed her parasol. She blinked in the dim light after the bright glare of the day, and for an instant, the large, looming statues in the galleries to either side looked like lurking demons, waiting to leap out at her.

She rubbed at her eyes to try and will the pain of the headache away. She had barely slept at all after returning home from Nick’s barroom, even though she had crawled into her bed and tried. The dreams kept plaguing her, haunting her, and there seemed nowhere to run. She was trapped by the past.

Then Aidan’s note had come at breakfast, asking her to meet him here. She wanted to refuse, to forget the way he looked at her last night and his watchful silence as he took her home. It was a silence that told her he was only biding his time until she told him her secrets. So she had come here to face him.

The museum was quiet that day, a good place to share secrets. She could hear a few hushed murmurs echo off the marble and alabaster, could glimpse a few artists sketching and couples strolling together. Two children playing tag around a stone lion made the only real noise, until their nanny quickly subdued them. Lily hurried past them all, the heels of her kid boots clicking on the stone floor as she made her way to the Elgin Room.

She remembered her own days at the museum as a young girl, when their governess would bring all the St. Claire children there for a “history lesson.” But the governess had really been more interested in meeting her suitor, and Lily and her siblings were left to their own devices. The boys always ran off to look at the mummies, while Isabel liked the gold Roman jewelry. Lily would seek out this room, longing to be alone in its quiet, elegant beauty. It seemed to her that here, surrounded by the pale marble and the scenes of ancient gods and heroes, so orderly, so perfect, nothing bad could ever happen.

She had loved those days when she was left alone in its cool hush and still came back there when she wanted to be quiet and think, away from the tumult of her family. It was a sanctuary in the midst of the noisy, dirty city.

Even after what had happened last night, after coming face-to-face with Tom Beaumont again, the beauty of the sculptures worked their soothing magic on her. As soon as she stepped through the doorway, she could feel it. She strolled over to the back wall where the long frieze depicting the procession of Athena’s festival was mounted, tucked behind the massive bulk of statues of Theseus and a headless goddess draped in diaphanous robes.

There was no one else there for the moment, and Lily was alone. She stared up at the carved line of young women dressed in floating chitons and cloaks, all of them so poised and graceful as they carried their urns and libation bowls as offerings to the gods. The lighting was dim, but Lily could make out their serene expressions. They were where they were meant to be, doing the work they knew they had to do.

She glanced at the next wall, a more violent scene of
horses and soldiers in battle. The procession was how she wanted to feel, how she wanted life to be. But this battle was more the way things actually were.

She heard a footstep behind her and turned to see that Aidan had come into the gallery. He wore a dark coat and waistcoat, making him blend into the dim shadows, but his glossy brown hair gleamed. His face looked so solemn and austere as he took in the room, so still, as if he were one of those gods, come to walk among mortals for a time. He saw her there, half hidden behind the statue, and gave her a small bow before he moved slowly toward her.

Aidan even walked like a god, with a natural grace. She curled her gloved fingers hard over the ivory handle of her parasol and forced herself to stay still. To not flee.

“How are you today, Lily?” he asked quietly. He took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles, as if he didn’t notice their tension. As if they were in a ballroom someplace, and he had never saved her from a gin-joint raid.

“Quite well, thank you,” she answered. “My ankle is a bit sore, but nothing that won’t fade soon.”

“I’m glad to hear it. And your brother?”

“Contrite. He has agreed to accompany my mother and sister on their seaside holiday and try to mend his ways. He is not a bad person; he is just… young.”

Aidan nodded. “Sometimes young men just need a reminder that their actions can affect other people as well. People they care about.”

“Do you need reminders of that?”

He grinned down at her. “Constantly, but I fear it never sticks. I’m a selfish bastard, remember?”

Lily bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I don’t think you’re supposed to use such language in the British Museum.”

“Hmm.” Aidan glanced up at a carving of Athena in her helmet and shield. “She
does
look rather stern, as if she would run me through with her spear if she took a dislike to me. She reminds me of you.”

“Me?” Lily said, startled. “I am hardly so stern as that. And I am not at all goddess-like.”

“Ah, but you are. A warrior goddess.” There was a burst of laughter in the doorway, and Aidan looked over to the group who had just come in, breaking the precious hush with their merriment. He held out his arm to Lily. “Shall we walk? It’s become rather crowded in here.”

Lily nodded and slid her hand into the crook of his elbow. For a moment, she wondered if he knew those people, if they were society friends of his parents and what they would say if they saw Aidan with her. But then he led her into the next gallery, holding her up as if he knew her ankle was beginning to ache again, and she forgot everything but him and what had happened last night.

The gallery was a long, narrow room lined with a jumble of marble statues, a crowd of gods and goddesses and warriors, all staring down at the passage of mere humans with blank, disinterested eyes. The air was cool there, and no one else was around. Only those statues were there to listen to Lily’s secrets.

Statues, and Aidan.

“Tell me what happened last night, Lily,” he said quietly, and she knew the moment had come. “You said you went to save your brother from ‘someone.’ Who was it?”

Lily nodded. “I told you I ran away from Madame Josephine’s after my mother died,” she said. “I didn’t know where to go, what to do. I only knew I didn’t want to be what my mother was. I didn’t want to do something, be
something, where I had to numb myself with opium just to make it through the day. So I ended up like thousands of unwanted children, scrounging on the streets for a crust of bread and a warm place to sleep for the night.”

She curled her hand harder on his arm and took a deep breath. “I was rather adept at picking pockets, but one night it was very cold and there was almost no one out and about. I didn’t have the penny for a place in a padding-ken bed, and the landlady turned me away. I tried to sleep in a doorway. That’s where Tom Beaumont found me.”

She closed her eyes and shivered as she remembered that night, as if she felt the bite of the bitter cold wind again. “Tom had a great criminal empire. He ran pickpocketing rings, prostitution rings, padding-kens, organized cons. He ruled by beatings and terror, even murder, but I didn’t know all this at first. Perhaps you have heard of him?”

Aidan gave a tight nod. “I have heard tales.”

“Yes. He’s still famous among a certain sort of person. He’s scarred now, but he wasn’t as fearsome-looking then. They called him ‘Handsome’ Tom Beaumont, and for good reason. He spoke to me gently, coaxed me out of the doorway, and offered me food. All he needed in exchange was for me to crawl in through a small shop window and take a few things for him. If I had been caught, I could have been hanged, of course, but I was so desperate I didn’t care. That was how it began.

“Tom had legions of people like me working for him. But I was rescued one day by the St. Claires when I tried to pick William’s pocket outside the theater. I’m not sure what they saw in me, but they took me home with them and adopted me into their family. And soon after, Tom was
arrested and transported to Australia. I thought I would never see him again, that that part of my life was finished. Until he showed up again.”

“And lured your brother into his net.”

“Yes. He wanted me to come to him, and he knew my family is the one thing I would always protect. He wants revenge on me, and I fear… I fear he won’t stop until he has it. Or until I stop him.”

They had come to the end of the gallery, and they stood there for a moment in silence. Lily didn’t trust Aidan’s perfect stillness or the way his eyes had turned dark, his face as hard as if it were carved from the same marble as those statues.

“Lily,” he said with a terribly gentle smile. “I’m going to take you home now, and I want you to stay there until I send you word.”

Lily tightened her hand on his arm. “Why? What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to help you, of course. You were quite right when you agreed with how selfish I am. It’s past time I used some of my ill-gotten knowledge to help someone else. I know people who know how to find things, even things others prefer to keep hidden.” A muscle flexed along his jaw, and his sensual lips tightened. “And I despise anyone who preys on the weak.”

“I am not weak,” Lily protested.

“No, you aren’t.” Aidan suddenly turned to her and reached up to frame her face in his palms. He traced his thumbs softly over her cheekbones as he looked into her eyes. “You are one of the strongest people I have ever met, the fiercest and the bravest. You don’t deserve a piece of garbage like this giving you one moment of worry.”

“Aidan,” she choked out. She couldn’t look away from his eyes, those eyes that seemed to pierce so deeply into her and see everything. She couldn’t escape his words. “I won’t let him hurt anyone I care about ever again.”

“Neither will I.” Aidan bent his head and lightly brushed his lips over hers. “Please, Lily. Let me help you. Let me do the right thing for once in my life.”

Her throat felt so tight she could hardly breathe. This was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life. She felt that if she took this one step, gave this one thing to Aidan—her trust—nothing could ever be the same. She had never relied on anyone else like this before, not even her family. He said she was brave, but she felt utterly terrified.

“Lily?” he said.

She gave a jerky nod. “Very well.”

He smiled and kissed her again. “Come on. Let me take you home.”

L
ily surveyed the main salon of the Devil’s Fancy from the doorway of the dining room. It was the perfect scene, a sea of feathered and jeweled masks that flowed through the amber-lit rooms on a cloud of bright laughter and fashionable clothes.

A masked ball was a fine idea, a way to bring in potential new members with the promise of mystery and secret delights. And Dominic was always a master at setting a scene, even offstage. Lily examined the tapestries of red and amber that fluttered over the walls, the red silk drapes on the card tables, the faint, shimmering clouds of incense that perfumed the air. It looked like an exotic, expensive underworld.

But the smoke and the swirl of masks made her feel dizzy. She hadn’t been sleeping well since the night she brought James home. Waiting for word from Aidan or for fresh threats from Tom. Trying to appear normal and cheerful for her family. It was all taking a toll on her.

Planning this party had helped. She threw herself into the preparations, ordering rare delicacies and exotic flowers and sending out the invitations. And now it all looked perfect.

She twisted the ebony handle of her fan between her hands as she watched the crowd. Dominic played cards with a mystery lady, a woman in black satin and lace that matched her sleekly coiled black hair. She leaned close to him, laughing as she studied the cards in her hand, and Dominic watched her with a small frown on his face as if he were bemused by her. Dominic was never bemused by a woman; he was always so firmly in control.

Lily almost smiled. It served her brother right to have a woman turn
him
around for once. He had been a growling bear ever since that day in the park when they saw Aidan. She wondered who the lady was.

Lily turned and made her way back into the dining room to make sure there was still plenty of lobster patties and pâté left. She plucked a shimmering red strawberry from the cornucopia of hothouse fruit and took a nibble of it. Sweet juice flowed over her tongue, and she smiled at its summery taste. She had almost forgotten what such simple little pleasures felt like.

“You look beautiful tonight,” a man whispered darkly in her ear.

She whirled around and found herself staring up into Aidan’s eyes behind a black silk mask. He didn’t smile, but his eyes were a bright, merry blue. He reached for her hand and slowly tasted the strawberry on her fingertips, left bare by her lace mitts. She went very still at the touch of his lips.

“Thank you,” she said.

“How have you been?” he asked. He let go of her hand to lightly trace her lace-trimmed sleeve over her shoulder.

“Well enough. James has gone off to the seaside for a few days with my mother and Isabel, so that is one less worry.”

Aidan nodded. “He’s young. Hopefully he’s learned his lesson.”

Lily stared up at him, studying the hard-set line of his jaw and the sensual curve of his lower lip. “Did you ever learn your lesson?”

He gave a bark of laughter. “Not well and never for long. But I sense that your brother is rather different. Do you have time to talk now?”

She glanced back through the doors to the salon. Everything seemed to be going smoothly there, everyone still having a good time. “Yes, for a while.”