“Quite a night, eh?” Cedric clapped Charles on the shoulder as they left the Sanderson home. “Far less painful than I feared.”
“Quite a night indeed,” Charles agreed. He hadn’t thought his spirits could be buoyed after the attacks on Phillip and Graham. But coming here tonight and finding Lily… Even her name made his blood hum and his head dizzy, as though he’d drunk too much whisky. She had given him a glimpse of hope again.
“It seems to have pulled you out of your black mood for a while, at least. I saw you danced with a number of fine ladies. I don’t suppose any of them caught your fancy?”
“One flower,” he admitted. “Lily Wycliff.”
“Emily’s cousin from the country?” Cedric chuckled. “Well, Godric forbade you from wooing her, so I guess it was only natural that you would. That must have been the blonde beauty you were with during the last waltz.”
Charles smiled to himself. “That she was.” He’d seen stunning women before, that was nothing new. But there was something more to Lily that drew him toward her, something that called to him. Like he sensed in her a kindred spirit, perhaps even someone wounded as he was. If she was, then perhaps there was a chance of them healing each other.
He resolved to call upon her first thing tomorrow, but a problem occurred to him. What the devil did a man do when he called upon a woman properly? Sit in a parlor and drink tea under the watchful eyes of a chaperone? Then he realized Emily was going to be Lily’s chaperone. He would never live down the humiliation of that.
“You know she has a child?” Cedric asked, his tone colored with caution.
Charles nodded. “I heard. But I am exceptional with children. Just ask Tom. I’ve been known to take care of his baby sister from time to time.”
“Speaking of Tom, where is he? It’s not like you to be without your valet.”
Charles’s heart sank as he remembered Tom’s less than happy circumstances. “Tom’s favorite aunt is dying. I gave the lad leave to stay with her. He took young Kat with him.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.”
“It is. And I feel damned guilty for wanting him here.”
Cedric shrugged. “A good valet is worth his weight in gold.”
This was true enough, but the boy had also become a part of his life, more like a young protégé. His confidant. His friend. And outside of the League, he didn’t have many he counted as such.
“Ah, there you are.” Anne joined them outside, stifling a yawn as she leaned against her husband.
“Oh dear, best get you home, lady wife.” Cedric chuckled and shot Charles a wink.
“Yes, you should. Good night, Charles.” Anne smiled at him, and the couple headed to their waiting coach.
Charles sighed, watching his breath form a brief cloud before he tightened his gloves. Alone again. He waved a groom over, and the man led his horse up to the bottom step of the house.
He rode home on the darkened streets, humming the tune of that last waltz. He didn’t want to forget a moment of his time with Lily Wycliff.
Damnation, he was falling hard for the woman, and he didn’t even know her. She was a stranger to him, albeit a beautiful one, yet he could almost swear that he did know her. But that was impossible. True, he had wooed many women over the years, but how would he forget someone like her? And she would have had to have forgotten him, which was simply unthinkable. It seemed she would remain his mysterious blonde angel for another night.
But come tomorrow, he would learn everything he could about her.
Once safely home, he saw that his horse was taken care of and then stole some biscuits from the kitchen before retiring to bed. His nightclothes had been laid out by Davis, and he stripped out of his evening attire, tossing them over the back of the chair. The fire was lit in the hearth, but the chair beside it was empty. The chair he often found Tom asleep in on the nights he didn’t accompany Charles out.
Charles pulled on his nightshirt and climbed into bed. Despite his exhaustion, he rolled restlessly from side to side, stretching his legs and arms to get comfortable, yet sleep still eluded him. His eyes kept slipping open as his mind played over the events at the ball.
He sat up and watched the firelight create shadows on the canopy draperies over his bed. An awful thought crept in on his happiness. If Hugo learned of his interest in Lily, it could put her in danger, just like everyone else.
She was safe enough under Godric’s roof for now, but there was no telling what would happen in the days to come. He only knew that Hugo would try to make another move soon. When he did, Charles would have to be ready to stop him…or die trying.
Hugo Waverly was in his study reading over the latest dispatches from Paris when the door opened. Daniel Sheffield slipped inside without a knock or word of greeting. Daniel was an extension of Hugo, and a weapon to be wielded whenever necessary.
He pushed the stack of dispatches away and leaned back in his chair. “Anything to report?”
“Kilkenny, the man you feared was sympathetic toward the League, was hit by a coach this evening on his way to the Sanderson ball. He did not survive.”
“Pity that. Coaches are a dangerous thing at night,” Hugo mused with a cold smile. Kilkenny wouldn’t be missed. “What else?”
“Lord Kent still lives. Lonsdale and Lennox went into the tunnels and found him, and word from our source is that he clings to life. I could have our man correct that.”
Hugo considered it. Letting Kent die under Charles’s roof would be horrific, but he didn’t want his agent to risk exposure.
“Unnecessary. The message was sent and received, as planned. That is all that matters. What else?”
Daniel smiled now. “Lonsdale was seen dancing with a woman named Mrs. Wycliff.”
He paused for a beat, knowing Hugo did not know that name. “Mrs. Lily Wycliff. She is said to be a distant country cousin to the Duchess of Essex.”
Hugo tapped his fingers on the desk. “So, the plan worked. I was hoping it would.” Her suggestion to pose as a cousin to Lady Essex was quite brilliant. And allowing the duchess to do half the work for him was nothing short of delicious. The so-called League of Rogues would soon welcome Lily with open arms. And then…
“I believe that news deserves a drink.” Hugo stood and retrieved a set of glasses and a decanter of scotch. He poured two glasses and handed one to Daniel.
“To Mrs. Lily Wycliff.” Hugo chuckled. “May she weave a seductive web around Lonsdale’s vile heart.”
Once she did, Hugo would be the spider at the center of that web, ready to strike.