Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 2) (9 page)

Alexander gave a frustrated tut. "You mean you enjoyed playing dress maid."

"Well, you must admit, she looks angelic in white silk. Every gentleman in here has noticed."

"Yes, probably because they're not used to seeing a courtesan wear white."

Elliot was struggling to follow the conversation. "I'm afraid you lost me with the wolf and the lamb analogy."

Evelyn put her hands on her hips. "Grace is not a courtesan."

Elliot turned to Alexander. "What has Mrs. Denton done to deserve your wrath?" He imagined she'd have been nothing but charming, wishing nothing more than to express her thanks and gratitude for their generous hospitality.

"Is it not obvious?" Alexander opened his arms wide. "Why else would I be here all trussed up like a partridge. It is your fault for running off and leaving her alone."

Elliot followed Alexander's disapproving glare and Evelyn's look of affection and pride to the figure of Grace Denton, busily engaged in dancing the cotillion with Lord Dunn.

"What the blazes?" Elliot whispered through gritted teeth as his heart hit his ribs with all the force of cannon fire.

"Doesn't she look beautiful?" Evelyn mused. "Katie worked wonders with her hair."

With a brilliant smile and a burst of lively enthusiasm, Grace Denton and her partner followed the head couple through the set of elaborate steps. The first sparks of jealousy ignited, simmering beneath his composed facade and he swallowed in an attempt to shift the lump in his throat.

"Have you lost your mind?" Elliot focused his pent up frustration on Alexander. "She cannot be seen out in Society and assuming some believe she's a courtesan she is hardly suitable company for your wife."

"Don't you think I know that," Alexander spat. "I had to escort Evelyn inside and then go back and have a quiet word with Lady Fortescue. A little gentle persuasion and it appeared Caroline Rosemond had been invited after all. Lord Dunn was more than pleased to play escort, hence, the reason they are currently hopping about together."

"What does she hope to gain by it?" Elliot threw his hands in the air, feeling the need to do something other than stand there gaping.

"Oh, trust me. She has thought it all through." Alexander's words brimmed with sarcasm. "It appears the lady has composed a list of all potential villains and is keen to get to work on solving the mystery of her missing sister."

Evelyn leaned forward and whispered. "We found her sneaking out of the house. Her intention was to return home to Arlington Street to change before making her way here."

Offering an incredulous glare, Elliot asked, "Does she just expect one of the suspects to hold up their hands and admit to any wrongdoing?"

"Well, we've had a little breakthrough with the diary." Evelyn actually sounded excited. "And before we—"

"There's no
we
about it," Alexander said. "You're not helping her, Eve."

Evelyn shot him a determined look. "And what if Elliot had refused his assistance? Without the use of his carriage, you would have never reached me in time. Heaven knows what would have happened to me. And what if he had not found me in the forest—" She stopped abruptly and sucked in a deep breath.

Alexander took her gloved hand and brought it to his lips. "I do not care to be reminded." He turned to Elliot. "We will, of course, help in any way we can."

Elliot glanced back at the dancers, noting the more dissolute gentlemen hovering around the floor eager for a bit of sport. "I need to get her out of here. From a distance, people will assume she's Caroline, but once they speak to her it's obvious she's not."

"Her intention this evening is to speak with Mr. Hamilton," Evelyn informed him. "She wonders if the Markham is short for Marcus Hamilton."

Marcus Hamilton was a renowned rogue, but gambling was his love and Elliot could not imagine him wasting his time or effort on spiriting away a courtesan.

"Her sister mentioned the gentleman a few times in her diary," Evelyn continued. "Once Grace is convinced he played no part in her sister's disappearance we will move more towards my theory."

"Your theory?" Elliot asked trying to focus on the conversation. The dancers were leaving the floor, and he needed to keep watch of his quarry.

"That Caroline often used a few words to represent a time, person and place."

Elliot noticed Lord Dunn escort Grace over to converse with Marcus Hamilton and the muscles in his abdomen hardened in response.

"She is not safe here," he suddenly blurted. Guilt delivered another stab to his chest. He should have stayed with her. He should have known she would not snuggle up under the coverlet and leave it all to him. Although solving the mystery of Miss Rosemond's disappearance was not really on his agenda. In truth, Grace Denton was better off without her.

"Then you will need to persuade her to leave." Alexander took his wife's hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. "I assume you've got your carriage?" When Elliot nodded, he said. "Good. I will take Evelyn outside for a stroll in the garden while you talk to Mrs. Denton. Let's agree to meet at the end of the street in thirty minutes."

"Agreed," Elliot said. He gave a loud sigh. "Well, I suppose I had better go and round up the wolf."

Alexander smiled. "I have a feeling she might growl a little and flash her teeth."

"But mine are sharper," he whispered. "And far more lethal."

"Just have a care. You have already beaten one gentleman to protect her honour. Let us hope the lady doesn't drive you to massacre a whole ballroom."

Elliot offered a weak smile. The way he felt at the moment, anything was possible.

After watching his friends make their way to the terrace, Elliot turned his attention to Grace Denton. Marcus Hamilton laughed at something she said. He knew only too well the look of a man intent on seduction. When the devil's gaze dropped to her spectacular breasts, the burning sensation in Elliot's chest was akin to swallowing a scalding-hot beverage; he exhaled deeply in a bid to rein in his ire.

When the gentleman touched her arm, Grace almost stumbled in her haste to step back. Jealousy flared, coupled with an overwhelming need to protect her. Elliot clenched his jaw in a bid to prevent his teeth from extending as he strode towards them, feeling a sudden urgency to intervene.

Chapter 8

"I still can't quite put my finger on it," Mr. Hamilton said tapping the aforementioned finger to his lips as his gaze lingered on her mole. His voice held a rich, seductive quality as though his words were not in accordance with the lascivious nature of his thoughts. "Is it the way you've styled your hair, I wonder? Or is it the air of innocence you're trying so hard to convey? There is definitely something different about you."

Thank goodness the gentleman had had a fair few drinks.

"You do not appear shocked to see me," Grace said, trying her best to use her sister's flirtatious tone. Although she lacked the teasing sway of the shoulders and the alluring pout that came naturally to Caroline.

"I'm shocked you approached me that is all. I thought we were done with." He continued to peruse her from head to toe, his eyes gleaming as though they had the power to see through numerous layers of clothing. "But alas, you know I cannot fund the lifestyle you require. Not when I would rather spend my funds at the tables."

"And so you choose gambling over love, sir."

Her response seemed to puzzle him, and he narrowed his gaze.

With a gloved hand, he touched the tips of his fingers to her upper arm and despite her shuffling back he did not break contact. "I think we both know love played no part in our … vigorous activities. I'm not saying no. I'm just saying I can't pay."

Bile bubbled away in her stomach as she struggled to hide a look of contempt. What on earth had Caroline seen in this wretch of a man? She wanted to tell him she would sooner lie down with a leper. But to do so would be to imply money was the overriding factor in all of Caroline's liaisons and she could not bring herself to admit to something so dreadful.

"You will have to give me t-time to consider all you've said." Nerves pushed to the fore as she tried to extricate herself from this awkward situation, which was all of her own making.

"What is there to think about?"

Grace took a step back, causing his fingers to fall from her arm. "I … I made a mistake. I thought … I thought …"

"You thought what?" he said arrogantly. "You thought that I would fall at your feet like the rest of them. I told you. You're not worth a guinea."

Grace choked back a sob as she struggled to maintain her composure. In her head, she imagined punching him on the nose. She imagined him crumpling to the floor, his starched cravat dripping with blood.

When she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out.

She felt a hand at the small of her back and turned to see Lord Markham's handsome face. Relief caused her shoulders to sag. As he studied her, she saw the muscle in his jaw twitch, saw anger flare in his vibrant green eyes, noticed the odd fleck of black.

"Miss Rosemond. I believe ours is the next dance."

Mr. Hamilton snorted. "Have you got a guinea to hand? I'm sure the lady has change."

The air about them whirled with a wild, volatile tension; she knew Lord Markham was ready to release the devil's own fury.

"Don't," she whispered placing her hand lightly on his arm. "It's not worth it. He's not worth it."

Lord Markham tore his gaze away from Mr. Hamilton.

"It will only draw undue attention," she added by way of an inducement.

Lord Markham nodded yet his expression remained dark.

"I thought you'd be at the card game, Hamilton," he said as he stared deeply into the rogue's eyes.

"Card game?"

"The one at the house in Bow Street. I hear Malesbury has a fortune to lose. I recall seeing your name on the list. Yes, I'm sure they're expecting you."

Hamilton's eyes glazed over, and Grace thought he might stumble. "Bow Street?" he mumbled. "They're expecting me?"

"They're expecting you now," Lord Markham reiterated his gaze intense. "You must not forget to knock on the window with three loud raps and shout the password."

"Three raps and shout the password."

Lord Markham leaned closer and whispered, "The password is
down with the monarchy
. I would knock on every window, just to be certain." When Hamilton stared at him, Elliot repeated, "Go to Bow Street. Knock on every window. Shout
down with the monarchy
."

Mr. Hamilton nodded. "I … I had best be on my way."

Astounded, Grace watched the man scurry away. "He seems set on doing exactly what you told him to. Is it some sort of conjurer's trick?"

"The mind is often weak in certain individuals," he replied. "And as such, can be easily manipulated if you know how."

Grace remembered feeling strange when she first met Lord Markham. When he asked her to recall what had occurred between them. "Did you try to use the same trick on me?"

"Trust me. There is nothing weak about your mind. The insane often have the strongest minds of all."

"Insane?" She batted him playfully on the arm. "At least Mr. Hamilton thought he was talking to Caroline when he insulted me."

Lord Markham's eyes still burned with anger, and he glanced back over his shoulder. "Let us go somewhere more private and then I'll tell you why I'm so damnably annoyed."

Without saying another word, he placed her hand in the crook of his arm and escorted her from the ballroom. The muscles bulging against the sleeve of his coat felt taut and rigid, ready to burst through the material without warning. She could have argued with his high-handed approach. But it would only draw unnecessary attention.

He stopped at the end of a long corridor, the walls covered with paintings of men in long white wigs all looking as equally stern, all ready to condemn the guilty to the gallows.

"What on earth were you thinking?" he said backing her into an alcove. "After what happened with Barrington, everyone will be talking about you. You cannot risk someone discovering your identity. I swear I almost ripped Hamilton's head from his shoulders for what he said to you. My heart is still racing. God help anyone else should make a derogatory comment as I don't think I can stop myself."

Grace couldn't help but smile. Yes, he was extremely angry. Yes, she had been out of her depth with the likes of Mr. Hamilton. And yes, she was in danger of finding herself in another threatening situation. But it was what Lord Markham hadn't said that caused the corners of her mouth to curl.

Grace put her hand to his cheek. "Thank you for caring."

He blinked, looked shocked, completely taken aback. His ragged breathing slowed to a calmer rate, and he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

Struggling with her own overwhelming feelings, she lowered her hand.

Lord Markham opened his eyes slowly, his heated gaze scorching her soul. "What are you doing to me?" he whispered.