Callum stood very still, ignoring the glass of whisky on the table. He’d tried working earlier but it didn’t help, regardless of the many estate accounts requiring his attention. Those papers now lay scattered across his study’s desk. Nothing could divert his attention tonight, not the lack of information on Dervin, which continued to aggravate him or the news of Garrow’s hanging in the morning.

His mind refused to focus on anything save Elizabeth.

He hadn’t admitted the tension he felt to Henrietta, but knew she could divine that for herself. Anticipation drummed through him, and all he could think of was tonight. It had taken every ounce of restraint not to lash out at Donald; not to accuse Henrietta of hiding Elizabeth’s whereabouts from him all this time. After offering such a blow, had they not devised a plan for him to see her, Callum may have carried through with his threat to dismantle the Club brick by brick.

His valet appeared and silently inquired if he was ready to dress, but Callum ignored Burke. His man understood and resolutely bowed before leaving once more.

Letting anxiety get the best of him, Callum paced his dressing chamber. He alternated between determination and agitation. What if she didn’t appear tonight?

He needed only one chance to explain to her, and was positive he could convince her to return to his life given that chance. Callum didn’t care about the past; neither her father’s disgrace nor the perceived traitorous taint on her held meaning for him beyond the obstacles they created. All he wanted was Elizabeth.

Given the chance…

Picking up the whisky, he downed it in one swallow. Given the chance, yes. But would he be granted such a chance?

What if she didn’t show this evening? What if yet one more thing kept her from him? He firmly believed Henrietta and Donald planned to do their best to persuade Elizabeth to attend. For the moment, he’d rely on them. If Elizabeth didn’t attend, nothing would stop him from extracting the information from Donald.

Swallowing, Callum stalked to the clothes Burke had laid out. He looked at the selections, but didn’t truly see them. Frustrated, he prowled the room, anger, anticipation, Elizabeth seething just beneath the surface. He needed to destroy something, to release the energy building up.

Instead he stopped moving. Unclenching his jaw, Callum took a moment to calm himself. One way or another, by dawn he’d find Elizabeth.

For a beat, Callum wondered how Donald planned to approach it, but then decided it didn’t matter. So long as she came to the Club tonight, Callum would handle everything from there.

The masque itself didn’t officially begin until midnight, though Callum knew many members already assembled at the Club tonight. They began their pleasure early. He didn’t want to entangle himself with them and had no plans to arrive at the Club until closer to midnight. And knowing Henrietta and Donald, they’d make sure Elizabeth didn’t arrive before midnight, either.

Shaking off thoughts that did little good, Callum called for his valet. Burke didn’t ask questions, though Callum could see the concern in his gaze. Nodding to the other man, Callum couldn’t quite relax his shoulders, but did try. Through it all, the anger, the defeat, the loss of control, Burke had never said one word against him. At another time, Callum knew he’d have noticed Burke’s discretion earlier. Once Elizabeth returned to his house, perhaps he’d become the man he was before.

Just as he shrugged into the coat, he heard a scratch at the door. Annoyed at the interruption, Callum ignored whoever bothered him. He was in no mood to be disturbed this evening. The scratch came again, and with one last glance at his own masque, he stalked to the door, images of Elizabeth crowding his mind.

It’d been over a year since he’d last seen her, kissed her. Nothing in that year caused him to forget anything about her. Her absence drove him hard, drove him to every action he’d taken in this last year. Nothing he did had been without purpose.

His sole purpose had been to get her back.

“Sir,” the butler said with a bow. “A man is waiting to see you.”

“Does he not have a name?” Callum demanded.

Stark shook his head and didn’t show an ounce of emotion. “He did not offer one, but said you expected him this evening. He’s one of the men you’ve hired before.”

“Yes, yes,” Callum said, annoyed with himself that he’d forgotten. “I’ll be down shortly.”

Burke stilled him, as if sensing the significance of tonight. With a fleeting smile, he thanked his valet as the other man took his leave, allowing Callum a moment to himself. As he exited his dressing room and passed the bed he once occupied, the bed he hadn’t slept in since learning Elizabeth disappeared. He recalled with vivid clarity the desire she held in her eyes for him.

Tonight, he’d finally see her, hold her. Make love with her. He’d feel the heat only they created; nothing felt like Elizabeth to him. Nothing tasted sweeter. Nothing possessed him as she did. Callum needed to feel her warm embrace, to once more taste the sweetness of her breasts. To let the act of entering her burn away the coldness which had frozen him this last year.

The man, John, fidgeted as he waited in the front parlor. When Callum entered he jumped as if caught taking the silver, though he stood in the center of the room.

Ignoring this, Callum asked, “What have you found?”

“We’ve tracked Dervin to the East End,” John, who had never offered up a last name, said. He cleared his throat and said stronger, “He moves constantly. If he sleeps anywhere, it’s in a deep hole with many rats.”

Which was not more than the man deserved; but Callum refrained from saying so. “Then entice him into a trap.”

“We’ve tried, sir.” John nodded, but frowned and clenched his hat tighter in his rough hands. “He doesn’t bite. It seems he fears being caught more than he desires what we offer. However, we think we might be able to corner him. The one risk he does take is to return to one of a handful of gaming hells.”

“What do you need?” Callum demanded. Dervin hovered just out of reach; the man was craftier than a cutpurse at a gaming hell. “More men? More money?”

John shook his head and for a moment Callum thought he looked somewhat offended. “Neither sir. We wanted to let you know we’re going to canvas the gaming hells tonight.”

Nodding, Callum took several more pound notes and handed them to John. “Good. See to it. Hire more men,” he added before turning away.

John left and Callum waited for his carriage to come round. He didn’t have to wait long; his servants always knew what he needed, sometimes before he did. Dervin would be brought to justice—Callum would see to it. His gift to Elizabeth.

The ride to the Club didn’t take long, even if it felt longer than Callum anticipated. Again anticipation beat through him, and he swallowed against it and focused on only seeing Elizabeth.

Donning his masque, Callum nodded to the guard at the door and entered the Club. Music greeted him, festive, joyous music that echoed throughout the halls. He knew exactly what Elizabeth’s masque looked like, but instinctively knew she’d yet to arrive. Refusing to entertain the traitorous thought of her not coming tonight, he made his way through the labyrinth for Henrietta’s office.

Callum had never been in the Club during a gala, and frankly until tonight he’d never paid much attention to the goings on anyway. Tonight, however, he walked slowly, examining each room, memorizing the various corridors that snaked off the main hallway to Henrietta’s office.

If he wasn’t careful, Callum knew he’d easily become lost in the underground structure.

The aroma of fresh food permeated several rooms, but Callum didn’t want to stop for even a moment. Couples talked here, though some made suggestive overtures to their partners. Several sexual offers were rejected, but the vast majority were accepted with the promise of more.

Further down the long hallway large rooms held Club members who eschewed food in favor of satisfying their more earthly desires. One woman knelt on a table, bound and blindfolded as a man entered her hard. A woman, her gown open to the waist, pinched her own nipples as she watched. A moment later she joined in, tasting the bound woman who screamed in pleasure.

Each room held a variation on that. Men indulged in other men, one man, Callum saw, cock stiff with need stood bound to a wall while a man used a riding crop on him. A third man knelt before the crop-wielding man and untied his breeches. With quick movements, this man slipped the other’s hardened cock into his mouth.

Women enjoyed other women, ménage a trois happened with regularity.

Callum saw a woman lean down to kiss another when the woman’s two male lovers intervened, not at all pleased with the sexual overture. The monogamy of it surprised him, but then he supposed nothing should in the Hellfire Club.

Keeping to the main hall, he finally came to Henrietta’s office. The guard there, tall, muscled, uncompromising, waited while Callum removed his masque. With a nod, the guard stepped to the side and opened the door.

“Aycliff,” Henrietta greeted the moment he entered. Donald didn’t seem to be in the office, and Callum wondered if he’d gone to fetch Elizabeth.

“I’ve arranged a private room for you this evening,” she continued, coming round her desk. She took his arm and exited her office. The guard didn’t ask questions but silently followed her. Callum hastily replaced his masque.

“As you haven’t attended one of our galas before, I need to instruct you on some of our proprieties.”

Callum looked sharply down at her and surprised himself with a laugh. “Proprieties?”

She smiled up at him, a warm look that eased some of the tension coiling through him. “Laugh all you wish, Aycliff, but even we at the Hellfire Club have rules to follow. Tonight, only fantasy and sexual pleasure are the objects of the Club. I’ve ordered that all masques be kept in place in public rooms. You’ve seen the masque Elizabeth is to wear, and I’ve ensured no other patron is to have the same.”

Nodding, he envisioned the full-faced masque with its gold filigree around the eyes. Yes, he knew exactly what her masque looked like.

“When is she due to arrive?” Callum couldn’t keep the impatience from his tone, but Henrietta didn’t comment on it.

“Don’t worry, Aycliff,” she assured him. “Donald has arranged it all and your dear Miss Darton has agreed.” Before he could ask, she cut him off with an amused look. “She hasn’t arrived as yet, I do expect her shortly.”

Shortly. Callum nodded and tried to form his next question. So many swirled in his head, but he couldn’t concentrate on one. “Will she be brought to the room?” he asked. “Or must I hunt her down in this…gala.”

“I’m sorry,” Henrietta said with true regret. “It’ll look far too suspicious if we bring her to you in a private room. No,” she said as she stopped him before a large, ornately carved oak door. Opening it, she guided him through. “No, you must win her yourself in one of the main rooms.”

She turned to him and gave a light laugh. “My dear earl, must I give you a lesson on how to enchant a woman?”

Callum shot her an exasperated look but wondered how much she saw through the masque. He looked around the opulent space. A fire burned in the fireplace warding off the chill of the room. Fresh sheets adorned the bed, candles burned along the walls and atop several tables, and the scent of lemon wafted gently from everywhere.

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” he said dryly. “Once I see her.”

Henrietta gave him the brass key to the room and left him. Callum followed her and locked the room behind him. She looked at him somberly for a moment, then smiled, leaned up to kiss him lightly on the cheek, and disappeared back down the hall, her guard following closely behind her.

Securing the key in his pocket, Callum returned to the main rooms. Only a few moments before midnight now, he didn’t know exactly when Elizabeth planned to arrive and didn’t want anyone else, man or woman, to approach her.

Several rooms now had dancing. Scantily dressed members formed a very formal quadrille, their movements languid and flowing as they flirted with each other. Each member had their own masque in place; though Callum had the feeling many already knew each other.

Scanning the room, he moved on, searching for Elizabeth. She wasn’t with the dancers or in one of the buffet rooms. He looked in several of the rooms where members indulged their sexual pleasures, but didn’t see her there, either.

Frustrated, anxious, Callum continued to look for her masque. Had she changed her mind? Had someone else found her first and she had fled? Or was she simply late?

Determination drove him, and Callum examined every female masque he saw.

There.

She walked through one of the buffet rooms, fingers twisted in her gown, masque firmly tied in place. Heart pounding, Callum acknowledged he had no real plan to seduce her, wished he’d had the opportunity to quiz Donald on what exactly he’d told Elizabeth about this evening, and started for her.

None of that mattered. All Callum cared about was never letting her go.