“I assure you,” Stonevale returned, “I am fast discovering that blackmail is neither pure nor simple, not with you cast in the role of the victim.”
Her eyes gleamed with mischief at that sally and Lucas felt his whole body react with sharp desire. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the cushions, his gaze holding hers in the shadows. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to be alone with this bewitching creature. He longed to pull her down onto the carriage seat and show her the extent of the risks she was running when she challenged him so openly.
For an instant a charged silence hung between them. When Victoria finally blinked and allowed her gaze to slide away from his own, he knew she had discerned his thoughts.
But Lucas’s small sense of victory was short-lived. It was dawning on him rapidly that this courtship he had embarked upon was going to be even more hazardous than he had first thought. With Jessica Atherton’s help and his own skill at getting by on his wits and his ability at the card table, he had hoped to conceal the true state of his finances from Society long enough to achieve his objective. He had made his plans with his usual care.
But if his intended bride took a notion to hire a runner to look into his affairs, it was all too likely the full truth would come out. The rumor of his nonexistent inheritance would not hold up for long. It was becoming clear that the task of stalking this particular heiress would be the most exacting hunting he had ever done. One wrong move, one miscalculation on his part, and he would lose the game.
“How long do you intend to spend on your adventure this evening, Miss Huntington?” Lucas kept his tone detached.
“Is time a problem for you? Do you have another engagement planned?” she asked far too sweetly.
He knew intuitively that she was fishing to find out if he had a mistress expecting him later. “No, I do not. Lyndwood and I must secure arrangements to have all of us taken up by his carriage at a specific location, and to do that efficiently in the crowd, we need to decide upon a definite departure time.”
“Oh. Yes, I can see that. I would suggest two hours would be ample time to enjoy the fair.”
Annabella sighed. “I am afraid I cannot stay out that long, Vicky. Mama will be coming home from the Milricks’ soirée in another two hours and she will expect me to be in by then.”
Lucas hid his relief. “An hour then?”
“An hour’s long enough for me,” Bertie Lyndwood said quickly.
“That’s probably all the time I should allow,” Annabella said with regret.
“Oh, very well.” Victoria sounded mildly irritated but resigned. “An hour it is. We shall have to hurry, though, if we are to see everything.”
Lucas said nothing, but privately he considered that the next hour was undoubtedly going to be one of the longest of his life.
Half an hour later he was confirmed in his belief. The huge park was ablaze with lanterns that illuminated a seemingly unlimited array of stalls selling meat pies and ale, booths featuring acrobats and rope dancers, and packed tents featuring puppet shows and games.
The crowd was a mix of the high and the low. Servants who had snuck out of their masters’ houses, shopkeepers and their wives, apprentices and shopgirls, dandies out for a lark, a few daring members of the nobility, prostitutes, pimps, pickpockets, young boys from flash houses, military men and dockworkers all rubbed elbows together as they sought the after-dark thrills of the fair.
“My lord,” Victoria murmured as they stopped to buy a custard tart, “I know you are concerned about calling attention to my disguise.”
“Concerned is quite an understatement, Miss Huntington. Those damned breeches fit you like a second skin,” Lucas muttered, eyeing the smooth line of her hips.
“I shall be happy to give you the name of my tailor. In the meantime, perhaps it would be best if you released my arm. A certain man across the way is staring.”
“Bloody hell.” Lucas dropped her arm as if he had been burned. He felt himself turning a dull red as he realized what a stranger would think to see him holding another gentleman’s arm the way a man holds the arm of a woman. “This silly getup of yours is bound to cause trouble.”
“No one will think twice about it unless they see you treating me as though I were a female.” Victoria took an enthusiastic bite of her tart.
“It isn’t just the way I treat you, it’s the way you look in those breeches.”
Victoria fingered her collar. “I thought the coat hid my figure rather well.”
“I have news for you. It doesn’t.”
“You’re determined to be difficult tonight, aren’t you, my lord? Kindly remember that it was you who insisted on inviting yourself along on this venture. I am merely the innocent victim of your blackmail scheme.”
Lucas grinned ruefully. “Innocent victim, Miss Huntington? Somehow I feel that description could never be applied to you. Whatever else you are, you will never be anyone’s innocent victim.”
Victoria surveyed him, considering his words for a moment. “I should probably take offense at that but I am having far too much fun. Oh, look, the acrobats are starting another performance. Let’s go watch them.”
Lucas glanced around. “I don’t see Lyndwood and his sister.”
“Bertie wanted more beer. They’ll be back in a moment. Stop fretting, sir.”
“I am not fretting, Miss Huntington, I am trying to exercise a measure of prudence. No one else on the scene appears inclined to do so.”
“That’s because there’s little sport to be had in exercising prudence. Come, let’s hurry or we won’t be able to see the acrobats.”
A short while later Lucas had just begun to relax and even convince himself they might all survive the hour at the fair unscathed when disaster broke out with no warning.
It might have been the particularly extravagant fireworks display which started the small fire. Or perhaps it was the fight that occurred between two prostitutes who were demanding payment for their favors from a soldier. Or it could simply have been the normal propensity of any large London crowd to turn itself into a mob on the slightest pretext.
Whatever the reason, the conversion of the throng of cheerful fair-goers into a wild, unruly human wave bent on causing trouble happened in less than a moment. Fireworks burst overhead, people screamed, curses filled the air.
Horses reared and plunged. A gang of boys took advantage of the opportunity to steal a tray of pies, causing the pie seller to run after them, hurling insults into the evening air. There were more screams and another flash of fireworks. Flames leapt up as a nearby booth caught fire and then all was chaos; dangerous, terrifying chaos; a chaos in which people would be trampled, assaulted, and robbed. Some might even be killed.
Lucas reacted automatically the instant he felt the mood of the crowd shift. For the second time that night he clamped his fingers in a viselike grip around Victoria’s fine-boned wrist.
“This way,” he ordered, pitching his voice to be heard above the din. “Follow me.”
“What about Annabella and Bertie?” Victoria cried.
“They’re on their own, the same as we are.”
Victoria did not attempt to argue further, for which Lucas was profoundly grateful. Apparently the lady was capable of displaying some common sense when it was called for.
Chaining her to his side with his grip on her wrist, Lucas hauled her through the melee toward the uncertain safety of the narrow alleys and streets that bordered the park.
He had known from the start the lady was going to be nothing but trouble.
3
The danger, which had coalesced out of thin air, left Victoria stunned. In that moment the only promise of safety in the entire world lay in the iron grip on her wrist. She followed Lucas blindly, relying instinctively on his strength and the savage manner in which he wielded his stick to forge a way for them through the crowd.
Victoria felt a hand claw at her coat and realized someone was trying to pic
k her pocket. Another hand tried to grab the inlaid walking stick she carried. Without thinking, she lashed out with the stout length of wood, slashing at the grasping hands.
There was a scream from one of her assailants which brought Lucas’s head around briefly. With one quick glance he saw that the would-be thieves had already released their intended victim.
“Good girl.” He immediately turned his attention back to forging ahead through the mob.
He did not try to work his way back against the driving force of the crowd. Instead, Victoria realized, he chose to ride the human flow, as if guiding a boat through a strong current. He kept maneuvering steadily toward the edge of the wild, churning river, his pace controlled and strong in spite of his limp. He did not break out into a mad dash and thereby jeopardize his balance and hers. It was obvious he had long since learned to compensate for the weakness in his left leg.
Lucas’s cool self-mastery amid the chaos made it clear to Victoria that he was one of those rare men who did not become rattled under pressure. She felt safe with him, even though the mob roiled around her like a violent sea.
As they reached the fringes of the mass of shouting, staggering, shoving humanity, the crowd thinned. Lucas made a calculated bid to escape it altogether; he had apparently been watching for his chance. In what seemed like an instant, he yanked Victoria into a tunnel of darkness between two buildings.
Victoria stumbled after him into the relative safety of the pitch black alley. Her boots skidded on slime and she caught her breath against the terrible stench that welled up from the confines of the narrow stone walls.
She thought the danger was over until she heard the crude drunken shouts from the alley entrance.
“ ’Ere now, mate. Bring that light in ’ere. I saw ’em go inter this little ’ole, I tell ye. Two of ’um. Rich coves, by the look of ’em.”
“Damn.” Lucas swore with deadly softness. “Get behind me and stay down, Victoria.”
Not waiting for her to obey, Lucas flung Victoria behind him with such force that she fetched up against the brick wall of the alley. She caught her balance and glanced anxiously toward the entrance just as a lantern appeared. In its pale light she saw the faces of two young ruffians armed with knives. They spotted their quarry and moved forward expectantly.
“What’er ye waitin’ for, Long Tom?” the second man asked his pal in an urgent tone. “ ’Urry up and spice the swells. There be plenty o’ work out ’ere for the likes o’ us tonight.”
Stonevale stood his ground, shielding Victoria. As she watched she saw him remove a small, shiny object from his greatcoat pocket.
“Bloody ’ell. ’E’s got a pop,” the first man cursed as the lamplight fell on the pistol lodged in Stonevale’s hand.
“An excellent observation, gentlemen.” Stonevale sounded faintly bored. “Which of you would like to test the accuracy of my aim?”
The first young man into the alley slithered to a halt and his companion piled into him. They both toppled into the muck. The lantern fell to the ground, glass shattering in a shower of small sparks. The weak flame continued to flicker a moment longer, casting strange, menacing shadows over the tense scene.
“Bloody damn ‘ell,” the first man said again, clearly frustrated. “Ye try to make a decent livin’ and look at what ‘appens.” He found his balance and scrambled back toward the alley entrance.
The other would-be footpad needed no further encouragement. There was a clatter of boots on stone, muffled curses, and a few seconds later Victoria and Lucas had the alley to themselves.
But Lucas wasted no time. His long fingers clamped around Victoria’s wrist once more and he hauled her through the dark alley into the next street.
The mob had not yet spilled over in this direction, and they were met with blessed silence. Victoria tried to slow her step in order to catch her breath but Stonevale refused to stop, and she stumbled obediently after him, panting.
“Lucas, I must say, that was very well done of you back there in the alley.”
Lucas tightened his grip on her wrist. “It would have been entirely unnecessary if you had not taken it into your head to attend the fair tonight.”
“Really, Lucas, must you—”
“We can only hope Lyndwood’s coachman followed orders,” Lucas interrupted as he continued pulling Victoria along at a rapid pace.
“I’m worried about Annabella and Bertie,” Victoria got out between sharp, strained breaths.
“Yes. So you should be.”
Victoria winced, aware he had no compunction about pointing out her guilt in the matter. The worst of it was he was right; this had all been her idea.
Mercifully, Stonevale said no more as he guided her around the corner and into the street where the coachman had been told to wait in case of emergency. Victoria saw the familiar lines of the Lyndwood coach pulled up in front of the tavern and she heaved a sigh of relief when she spotted two people inside.
“They’re here, Lucas. They’re safe.” Victoria flushed as she realized she had unthinkingly been using Stonevale’s given name since the excitement started.
“Yes. It appears we are to be favored with some luck tonight, after all.” He said nothing else as they neared the carriage.
“Good God, we were worried about you,” Lyndwood said, pushing open the carriage door. “Thought for certain you’d been run down by the mob. Hurry. We don’t want to hang out in this street for long. No telling when the crowd might take a notion to come this way.”
“Rest assured, Lyndwood, I have no intention of dawdling.” Lucas tossed Victoria up into the carriage and followed quickly, slamming the door behind him.
The carriage took off at once and none too soon. In the distance the shouts of the mob filled the night air.
Victoria looked anxiously at Annabella. “Are you all right, Bella?”
Annabella clasped her friend’s hand. “I’m fine. Bertie and I were on the fringes of the crowd when the trouble broke out. We managed to get out of the way almost at once. But I was so worried about you two. You were right in the heart of the throng, were you not?”
“It was a near thing,” Victoria said. A wave of euphoria was washing over her now, rapidly replacing the tension that had gripped her a moment earlier. “We were accosted in an alley by two men intent on robbing us. But Stonevale produced a pistol and stopped them instantly. He was magnificent.”
“Good heavens,” Annabella whispered, shocked.
“Damme, Stonevale.” Lyndwood frowned with obvious concern. “A near thing, is right. Neither of you was hurt, I take it?”
“We are both perfectly fit, Lyndwood, as you can see.” Lucas dismissed the inquiry with a deceptively neutral tone. “Although Miss Huntington’s disguise appears to have suffered somewhat.”
Victoria belatedly checked her hair and realized something was amiss. “Oh, dear, I’ve lost my hat.”
“You are extremely lucky not to have lost more than a hat, Miss Huntington.” Again Stonevale’s voice seemed far too calm.
Victoria slanted a sidelong glance at his hard profile and realized that Lucas was in a blazing fury. For the first time since the riot had erupted around her, she felt a trickle of genuine fear.
Lucas glanced out at the empty side street as the carriage drew to a halt. “You intend to be set down here, Miss Huntington? We are nowhere near your front door.”
“It will do,” she said calmly, collecting her handsome walking stick.
“And how do you intend to get into the house if not through the front door?” Stonevale asked, annoyed.
“I shall go over the garden wall and back through the conservatory, the same way I left earlier. Don’t worry, my lord, I know my way.” Victoria was already stepping down from the carriage as the door was opened. She hoped he wouldn’t feel obliged to follow.
“Good night, Vicky,” Annabella called softly. “It turned out to be a most interesting adventure, did it not?”
“It certainly did,??
? Victoria replied.
Lucas followed Victoria through the carriage door. “Wait here, Lyndwood,” he instructed over his shoulder. “I shall return as soon as I have escorted our reckless little dandy back over the garden wall.”
Victoria turned toward him in alarm. “There is no need to see me home, my lord. I assure you, I am perfectly capable of finding my own way.”
“I wouldn’t hear of it, Miss Huntington.” He must have spotted the new uneasiness in her because he smiled knowingly. “Excellent,” he murmured, grasping her arm and propelling her into the shadows. “I see you understand me well enough now to realize that I am not in a good temper. It is always best not to argue with me when I am in this mood.”
“My lord,” she began, her chin lifting imperiously, “if you think to hold me accountable for what happened this evening, you can think again.”
“But I do hold you accountable, Miss Huntington.” He glanced up at the high stone wall covered with thick ivy. “How do we get inside the garden?”
She tried to retrieve her arm. When he took no notice of her small struggle, she gave up and nodded toward the far end of the walk. “There is a way over there.”
He hauled her along in the indicated direction until she pointed out the heavy vines which concealed a few chinks in the bricks. Without a word, Victoria wedged the toe of her boot into the first opening and grabbed a vine.
Beneath her, Lucas shook his head in grim disapproval as he watched her climb the garden wall. Victoria felt awkward and clumsy under his close scrutiny. She had not as yet had much practice scaling garden walls. She could only hope the fitful moonlight hid the shape of her snugly clad derriere as she went over the top.
Behind her, Lucas grabbed a trailing bit of ivy, found the chink in the wall with the toe of his boot, and followed.
On the other side of the wall, Victoria dropped lightly to the ground and looked up to see that Lucas was almost on top of her. She stepped back quickly as he dropped down in front of her. She noticed he took most of his weight on his strong right leg and did not stumble as he caught his balance.