The afternoon seemed to stretch for hours. Linley's back ached from hiding in the mews outside Jackson's Salon. The dark suit he wore was borrowed and slightly too big, as were the waistcoat and breeches. The entire ensemble was nearly threadbare and didn't keep out the chill of the winter wind. With each gust, he hastily gripped the edges of his white-powdered wig on his head, keeping it secure.He prayed that the man he was sent to watch would appear soon. His fingers were turning blue and his blood was like ice in his veins. His quarry, the Earl of Lonsdale, a skilled boxer, could spend hours in the salon. There was no telling when Linley would get a chance to escape the cold and seek shelter inside. He rubbed his hands together, attempting to generate warmth. It didn't help.A sudden wave of exhaustion swept through him. He didn't want to be here. His master had made him come here. Sir Hugo Waverly. A true bastard if there ever was one. Tom tried not to think about it but failed.
Seeing Ashton wounded had shaken the very foundations of Charles's existence. He needed to restore some sense of order to his world, to reassert his strength and defense. He stood in the ring of Jackson's Salon practicing his boxing technique. Sweat gleamed on his forehead and dampened his hair.He fought like a man possessed. Punch after punch, opponent after opponent, and still he battled on, ignoring his aching muscles. As he punched and ducked, all he saw was Ashton. Pale from blood loss, resting in Essex House as he recovered from his injury. The doctor had assured everyone there was little to worry about and that Ashton would recover control of his arm in time.Many of the men in the best circles enjoyed to play at boxing, but not Charles. He took the art seriously. A pugilistic match was his way of fighting back against his fears and insecurities.Conquer the ring and you conquer your demons.Today, he sported a blackened eye, one he'd deserved but not gotten in the ring. Ch
Horatia stared at Lucien's riderless horse as it galloped around the side of the house and found its way back to the stables. Even as fast as it was moving, it seemed to be favoring its left foreleg. The reins hung limply in front of it.Where was Lucien? She ran to snatch her cloak and left through a side door close to the stables. She dashed outside and took hold of the horse's reins. The horse fixed her with a baleful stare. It was then that Horatia saw the trickle of blood near the back of the saddle. She loosened the girth and raised the saddle with trembling fingers.A sprig of barberry was embedded into the horse's skin, the thorns causing a painful wound on the animal. If Lucien had sat back too hard he would have forced the thorns deeper. Horatia gazed out towards the field. Where was Lucien? Perhaps the horse had escaped him when he'd returned.She brought the horse to the stables where a groom took the reins."He had some barberry tucked under his saddle," she informed h
Dinner at Rochester Hall was always a grand affair, which was just the way Jane liked it. There was something wonderful about having her children and friends gathered around her table, eating, drinking and talking. The table in the formal dining room sat thirty people when all the leaves were inserted, but tonight it was perfect for accommodating the more intimate party of thirteen.The doctor had come and gone, assuring Jane her son was well enough to dine with them if he wished and that he'd only suffered a minor concussion. With instructions to rest for the next few days, he'd exhibited the stubbornness he'd inherited from his father and come down for dinner. Jane snuck a glance at him, still concerned about the pallor of his complexion.She had arranged the seating so that the younger children were all paired together. Cedric and Horatia sat across from each other by the head of the table on either side of Lucien. Lucinda and Linus were next, and on down the line were Avery, Lawr
Horatia perched in a chair against the wall, listening to Lady Rochester's performance on the pianoforte. Cedric attended her, turning the pages as he followed her progress on the sheet music. Audrey was dancing with Gregory Cavendish, the two of whom seemed to be making the most of the wide expanse of the ballroom. Avery and Lucinda were dancing near them and Lysandra was dancing with her youngest brother.A smile tugged at Horatia's lips. It warmed her to see Audrey so happily engaged. Her first season had been quite a disappointment after word of Cedric's overbearing nature circulated among the young bucks of the ton. Audrey had wept for days when no flowers or cards had been delivered to her. There was nothing so cruel as to watch one's sibling suffer. Marriage was all the poor girl wanted, and with Cedric's watchful eyes she simply didn't stand a chance.Horatia spied Lucien across the room with Lawrence and their guests. He seemed much recovered, although still pale. There was
Lucien approached Horatia, hating the distance between them, and scooped her up out of the chair to hold her to his chest. She fisted her hands in his waistcoat and buried her face in the crook of his neck. The intimate seeking of protection and reassurance made his heart turn over. Even after being cold to her for so long, she still trusted that he would care for her. She amazed him.Lucien banded his arms about her back, tightly grasping her to his body. He layered gentle comforting kisses on the crown of her hair, shushing her with warm soothing sounds. His rage at Lawrence and Linus was still strong, but Horatia was more important right now, and she needed him to stay with her. He would punish his brothers for luring him away when she needed his protection. Even Avery was involved somehow. They would all be dealt with on the morrow."Why did hewhy did he have to do that? He has no interest in me, so why? He was cruel to toy with me, and to what end?" she asked between choked sobs
Lawrence flung himself into a deep armchair within a private parlor, his brothers flanking it on either side. His head hurt like the devil. He'd likely have a knot on his brow by the morning. Avery frowned and stared down at him while Linus paced back and forth. The rest of the guests had all gone to sleep and the three Russells were alone now to discuss the possible victory of their plan."Well, Lawrence, how did it go?" Linus asked.Lawrence growled in response. He didn't want to think about what he'd just done. "I have a bad feeling that Lucien is going to put a bullet through me tomorrow. And if Cedric catches wind, it might be two.""What?" Avery eyes widened."I went too far. It took Lucien too long to find us." Lawrence rubbed his eyes wearily."Just how far is too far exactly?" Linus asked."In trying to delay things I was perhaps a bit too convincing of my intentions and frightened the poor woman. She smashed her head into mine when I tried to kiss her. It was never my i
Dreams were wonderful things, no one could dispute that. But the moment when an intangible vision of one's desires becomes a reality? That is something infinitely more powerful and breathtaking than the moonlit inspired visions woven in the night. Now here Horatia was, waking beside Lucien. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and glimpsed snow falling outside the large window opposite her.The flakes had clumped into penny-sized blotches, drifting down like feathers. It was still early. The light in the sky was reduced to a heavy gray by the voluminous winter clouds. Horatia lay nestled next to him, the heat of Lucien's body warming her back. She rolled over, settling deeper into the feather bedding as she studied him in the dim morning light.Lucien was stretched out on his stomach. One hand was fisted around the bottom of his pillow, scrunching it up beneath his cheek. His other arm dangled off the side of the bed. The wide expanse of his shoulders and back were exposed as