His Favorite Mistress (22 page)

Soon, the pounding returned to his ears, her touch and scent an aphrodisiac of which he couldn’t seem to get enough. Her tongue swirled around his, her small hands pressed enticingly against his chest. In some dim corner of his brain he heard the crowd roar along with another round of fireworks. But then the noise changed, punctuated by shouts and exclamations…and the high-pitched whinnying of a horse in distress. Suddenly someone bumped into him, feet hurrying as they stumbled past.

What in the blazes?
His head jerked up, his arms going protectively around Gabriella as he looked to see who had collided with him. His eyes went wide as he made out the shapes of people moving in the darkness—men, women, and children being jostled amid an increasingly erratic mob.

Suddenly a gunshot rang out, followed by a woman’s chilling scream, then more shouts and cries.

Good Christ,
he realized,
a riot!

“Stay close to me,” he told Gabriella. Cradling her against his side, he drew her away from the tree and started forward, scanning ahead for signs of their party. Despite flashes of light from the fireworks still exploding in the sky, he couldn’t make out so much as a trace of Rafe and the others, not even Hannibal, who was so tall he towered over Tony’s own six-foot-three-inch frame. Shoving down the glimmer of alarm that squeezed in his belly, he held tightly to Gabriella and struggled forward another couple of yards. But he realized their effort was hopeless, as the crowd surged toward them like an unstoppable tide of human flesh.

“We’ll have to go the other way,” he told her, his voice raised so she could hear him above the mob, people jostling and pushing against them as they forced their way past.

Meeting his gaze, she nodded, amazingly calm given the situation. “Just don’t let go of me.”

“Not a chance,” he vowed, hugging her even closer to his side. Careful of their footing, he turned them, making sure they didn’t fall and risk being trampled. Abruptly, he and Gabriella merged with the flowing crowd, moving ahead with no tangible idea of where they were being led. The pace was challenging, just short of a trot at times. Several feet in the distance, he saw an old man stumble and cry out as he disappeared into the seething mass. Tony wanted to go to him to help, but there was no possible way to reach the man. Pushed onward, he could only pray Gabriella had not seen the old man’s plight.

Long minutes passed before the crowd finally slowed and began to thin as people found their way to freedom. Overhead, the sky was black, the fireworks silent, only an occasional distant shout left to punctuate the air.

Leading Gabriella to a vacant spot near another tree, he halted, then tugged her firmly against his chest. Saying nothing, he simply held her, while she did the same.

“We made it,” she said after a long minute. “Thank God.”

“Yes.” Scanning the darkness, he searched for a recognizable landmark, but found none.

“Do you think Rafe and Julianna and the others are all right?”

“I am sure of it. Rafe and Ethan have cool heads. I can’t believe they didn’t manage to get everyone to safety.”

She drew a breath. “Julianna will be worried.”

“Of that, I’m sure as well. But she and Rafe must realize we were together and that I’ll keep you from harm.”

“I would have been quite terrified without you, you know.”

“You’d have managed. I can’t think of any other lady of my acquaintance with your calm resilience.”

She gave a wry laugh. “An act, Your Grace. It was all an act.”

He smiled. “As much as I would enjoy continuing our conversation, I believe we ought not linger any more. Thugs and pickpockets are known to roam the park at night and I would rather we did not encounter any of their sort.”

A slight shiver ran through her. “No, this evening has proven eventful enough already. Let us be on our way.”

He took her hand, and they walked forward. As they traveled, many others passed by, some wandering dazed and lost, a few bearing injuries, while more were simply weary and eager to reach their homes. After ten minutes or so, the two of them finally came to the edge of the park. Reassessing their surroundings, Tony realized they must have traveled toward Piccadilly, some distance from where the fireworks celebration had taken place.

Exiting the park, they stepped out into the city, the mostly residential streets quiet at this time of night. Given their location and the late hour, he knew finding a hackney would be a virtual impossibility. He could always knock on the door of a nearby home, he supposed, and ask that a footman be sent to Black House for a coach. But as he and Gabriella were so obviously alone together, he was reluctant to exercise that option. Better to make the journey on foot, then get her safely home to Rafe and Julianna with no one else the wiser.

“Are you up for a walk?” he questioned.

She nodded. “I wore my half-boots; I shall be fine.”

Keeping her hand secure inside his own, he and Gabriella started forward, the surrounding darkness broken only by the light from a few house lanterns. They had been walking for nearly fifteen minutes when the rhythmic clip of horses’ hooves rang out behind them. Pausing, Tony turned to watch the approaching coach. He was debating the wisdom of flagging down the vehicle when it slowed of its own accord and drew to a halt. The window closest to him and Gabriella slid down with a quiet snick.

“Gracious, Wyvern, is that you?”

He held back a groan, his jaw tightening as he met the gaze of the last person he could possibly have wished to see. “Good evening, Lady Hewitt.”

“Whatever are you doing out here?” she questioned, sending an arch look in Gabriella’s direction. “Has there been an accident with your coach?”

“A small riot, actually, during tonight’s fireworks celebration in Green Park.” He said nothing further, taking up a position just in front of Gabriella in the forlorn hope that his ex-mistress wouldn’t be able to clearly identify her in the darkness. But as he knew, such a hope was indeed ridiculous.

“How frightening!” Erika said with exaggerated concern. “And now you and poor Miss St. George…that is Miss St. George just behind you, is it not?…are being forced to walk home. Well, providence has decided to shine upon you,” she said, opening the door. “Come let me take you up. My coachman shall have you home in no time.”

For an instant, Tony considered refusing, but he knew the gesture would be useless since the damage, as it were, was already done. Sliding Gabriella’s hand over his arm, he led her forward.

“Thank the stars both of you are all right!” Julianna exclaimed nearly an hour later as Tony, Gabriella, and Rafe stood with her inside the Pendragons’ entrance hall. “We were all so worried when we realized the two of you weren’t with us. I assume you were pushed away from our group when the fighting broke out?”

Tony and Gabriella exchanged a quick look before glancing away.

“Something like that,” Tony offered. “Everything happened so fast. It’s hard now to recall.”

This time it was Rafe who shot him a look, his friend’s arms crossed over his chest, a speculative frown on his face. Julianna, however, didn’t seem to notice, reaching out to give him and Gabriella yet another hug. “Well, whatever the details, it is of no consequence now. All that matters is that you are returned safe and unharmed.”

“Yes,” Gabriella piped. “Were it not for Wyvern, I don’t know if I would have escaped unscathed. I was dreadfully frightened.”

“If you were, you certainly didn’t show it.” Tony sent her a smile. “You were amazingly fearless.”

“I didn’t feel fearless. Inside I was a veritable bowl of jelly.”

“The loveliest jelly I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, losing himself for an instant in her expressive violet gaze. When he glanced up again, Rafe and Julianna were watching; there was a smile on Julianna’s lips, while Rafe had an even more pronounced scowl on his brow.

Tony cleared his throat. “Yes, well,” he stated, “the hour grows late and considering all of tonight’s excitement, I suppose I ought to say my farewells.”

“Yes,” Rafe stated. “Good night, Tony. I expect I shall see you tomorrow at Brooks’s.”

He returned Rafe’s gaze with apparent equanimity. “Likely so.” Turning, he nodded to the ladies. “Julianna, rest well knowing everyone is safe. Miss St. George, may your dreams be deep and filled with the comfort of angels.”

“May yours as well, Your Grace,” Gabriella said, offering him her hand.

“Oh, I doubt that shall come to pass,” he replied, curving his fingers over her own. “Seraphim and their like haven’t been on speaking terms with me for years.”

Rafe gave an audible snort, his lips twitching with amusement in spite of his taciturn mood. Making Gabriella a bow, Tony released her hand and stepped away. Wishing them all a collective good night, he exited the townhouse.

Late evening shadows stole around him like a dark cloak, the neighborhood silent except for the muffled bark of a dog several streets away. He was expecting to find one of Rafe’s coaches waiting for him. Instead, standing before him was the same vehicle in which he had arrived. The horses advanced a few paces at his arrival, stopping so the coach door was directly opposite him.

Lady Hewitt leaned forward, her face framed in the lamplight that shone into the open window. “It’s about time you left that house. I was beginning to wonder if you planned to stay the night.”

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “What are you still doing here, Erika? There was no need for you to wait.”

“Oh, I know. But how could I depart and cut short our chance to visit a bit more?” Satisfaction gleamed on her comely features, her expression reminding him of a vixen who had just located a henhouse full of plump, unsuspecting chickens. Given the twinkle in her eyes, he wouldn’t have been surprised to see a telltale feather or two floating on the air.

“I assume you sent Rafe’s coach away?” he questioned.

“Of course. Why go to the bother of two vehicles when one will do? Come along, Tony. The hour does grow late.”

Hesitating only a moment more, he stepped forward and entered the coach. Relaxing back against the well-appointed seat, he waited for her to begin.

“It’s been a long time since last we met,” she ventured as the horses drew the coach into a gentle motion.

“An hour at least, I would guess.”

She made a face. “Don’t be glib. You know what I mean.”

“My pardon. You are right, my attempt at humor was poorly done. Surely, however, you didn’t ask me here to talk about old times.”

“I suppose not, although I must say one can never entirely forget old times, can one?” she observed with a bitter tinge to her words. “Despite a person’s best efforts to do so.”

“It is true that some matters are more easily set in the past than others.”

“As are some people. You seem to have had no difficulty forgetting
me,
for instance.”

He restrained a sigh.
Ah,
he mused,
this is the trouble with encountering old lovers, especially those for whom the breakup was not mutually desired.
He rubbed an idle thumb against his trouser-clad knee. “I have not forgotten you, Erika. How could any man forget a woman like you?”

She made a slight noise of mollification, but said nothing more.

“I have simply moved on,” he continued. “As have you. I understand you have been seen with Lord Plympton lately.”

She rolled her shoulders in a graceful arch. “Hmm, noticed that, did you? He can’t keep his hands off me, you know. And what inventive hands they are, too, I must say!”

If she thought her remark would spark some glimmer of jealousy in him, she was doomed to be disappointed. Although, as he well knew, she had yet to state her real objective for this conversation.

“While you, Your Grace,” she went on, “have been dancing attendance on that young miss, that Gabriella St. George. It’s very naughty of you to be dallying with such an innocent, especially beneath the noses of your good friends, the Pendragons. I assume you haven’t taken matters too far beyond flirtation, since a man of your prodigious appetites couldn’t possibly be satisfied with an inexperienced little chit like her.”

His fingers tightened into a fist, disliking even the sound of Gabriella’s name on her lips.

“Most unfortunate about this evening.” She paused, trailing a hand across her long silk skirt. “Had someone else come upon the two of you wandering alone together in the dark, I fear they might have been tempted to rush home and start sharing such titillating news with their entire acquaintance. I mean, on the face of it, the girl is compromised, and what with the way the Ton can be, I worry that poor Miss St. George would soon find her reputation quite in tatters should word get out.”

So now we come to the heart of the matter,
he thought, waiting to see what further threats she had to utter.

“Given the previous aspersions cast upon her character by her aunt,” Erika observed, “I do not see how she could possibly survive another round of scandal. What a tragedy that would be to find oneself driven from Society because of a circumstance not at all under one’s control!”

He held his temper. “Yes,” he replied in a deliberately casual tone. “That would be most regrettable indeed.”

“Of course, I have no intention of breathing a word. It shall be our little secret.”

“Will it? How generous of you!” he drawled with a faintly mocking undertone.

“Why, thank you, Wyvern,” she mused aloud, a little smile of self-congratulation riding her lips. “I think so, too. And generosity deserves a reward, do you not agree?”

He clenched his hand tighter, in no other way allowing his emotions to show. “Just what sort of
reward
did you have in mind?”

She let out a brief laugh, the sound raking over his system like a set of nails across a slate. “You! I want you back.”

His arched a single brow. “Do you really? What of Plympton?”

“What of him?” she shrugged. “He is amusing and serves his purpose, but despite his skills he lacks your unique finesse. Of all my lovers, I have yet to find one who comes close to matching your talents in bed. Of course, I wouldn’t take you back without some additional recompense.”