His Wicked Secret

Chapter 1-2

“I’m worried she’ll go anyway. Pardon me for saying so, but you know what she’s like, Mr. St. Laurent. High-spirited and willful.”

“All too well,” he said with a sigh. “You know where she was planning to go?”

“I do.” Linley handed him a scrap paper with an address. “Be careful, my lord. It is a hellfire club, full of bad men they say. She can’t go in there alone.”

A hellfire club? Was the woman mad? A knot of fear formed in his stomach. That was far more reckless than anything she had done so far. What on earth would she do that for?

“You are quite right. Thank you, Tom.” Jonathan tried to remain outwardly calm despite his pounding heart as he patted the lad on the shoulder and left.

It was very early in the evening, and any minute now the rest of his friends would be having drinks in the Bombay Room. The wives of all the married men were having a dinner, but Audrey was using tonight as an opportunity to escape.

No doubt she thinks I won’t be around to discover she’s run off again. I shouldn’t be surprised, I really shouldn’t.

But he had hoped that her encounter with him this afternoon would keep her from any more adventures, at least for a few days. Now he suspected it had only spurred her harder. He found his horse waiting for him, and he rode back to his house on Half Moon Street. His butler greeted him warmly, but when he saw Jonathan scowling, he sobered.

“Anything I can do to help, sir?” Mr. Leigh asked.

“Call a hackney. I need to get to the Temple Bar district at once.”

“I will do that straightaway.” Mr. Leigh exited the house, and Jonathan headed up to his bedchamber. His valet, Louis, was polishing a set of boots. When Jonathan entered, he rose from the chair by the fire and bowed.

“Evening, Louis. I need a shirt, waistcoat, and trousers. All black.”

“All black?” the young man asked, tilting his head in puzzlement.

“Yes.” He could see more questions on the man’s lips, but thankfully the valet didn’t speak further. Jonathan had no desire to tell anyone that he was infiltrating a hellfire club tonight. Though exactly how he’d accomplish that still wasn’t clear. He’d puzzle it out once he got there. He opened his dresser drawer and removed a pistol, a habit he’d taken up after several of his friends had ended up in perilous situations this past year. It would be wise to take that tonight in case he ran into trouble, which, given that Audrey was involved, was almost a certainty.

Once dressed, he rushed downstairs and hopped into the waiting hackney. When the coach reached the Temple Bar district, he paid the driver and hurried past Twinning’s tea shop and the Lower Courts of Justice. He found the townhouse that matched the address Linley had given him and glanced around, waiting for an opportunity to present itself. He wouldn’t be able to gain entrance easily, not through the front door. The members of the club were likely to be prepared with secret passwords or other such nonsense to prevent outsiders from walking in.

He slipped down the mews between the house and the building next door and found the servants’ entrance. That door, he wagered, would be unlocked. He curled his fingers around the handle and gently eased it open to reveal a kitchen. A plump cook with a greasy apron stirred a steaming pot with a large ladle, muttering to herself.

“Damned cat. What do these fancy lords need with it? Not catching any rats, if you ask me.”

Jonathan shook his head and focused on slipping behind the cook unseen. She paused her stirring and wiped at her brow and then straightened to turn. He was almost to the door that led to the rest of the house when she spotted him.

“Oi! What are you doing in ’ere?”

He froze and turned to look at the squashed face of the grumpy cook. “I’m late, and I’m worried they won’t let me in. I thought if I snuck through the kitchens…” Please, Lord, let this work.

The cook flashed a toothy smile. “New, are you? You’re prettier than the rest. That pale hair, those green eyes—I bet the lassies love you, don’ they?”

“Yes, sometimes.” He swallowed, praying she wouldn’t see through his deception. But she seemed to like him. His looks had always been an asset. Even his older brother’s former mistresses had wanted to bed him, not that Jonathan ever dared to tell his brother that. The Duke of Essex had a powerful right hook.

“Well, go on then. You don’t want to be late for supper. You’ll be needing one of these.” The cook bent and opened a cupboard next to the stove and pulled out a domino mask with the devil’s face painted on it. It left only his nose, mouth, and chin exposed to view. It was a perfect disguise.

“Thank you.”

“You can thank me with a kiss,” the cook suggested, fluttering her short lashes at him.

“Later, I promise,” he offered her a rakish grin instead.

“Not so fast. I’ll be takin’ me p*****t now.” She waved the mask out of reach.

“Very well, you tempting lady.” He bent to give her cheek a quick peck, but she moved and gripped his cravat, yanking his face into hers and smashing their lips together.

Startled, he jerked back and hastily grabbed the mask from her hand before she could demand more kisses. She winked at him before he turned away and discreetly wiped his mouth on his coat sleeve.

Good Lord, Audrey, you’d bloody well better be worth all this.

But he knew she was. She was worth paying any price.

He slipped the mask on and stepped into the corridor. A group of men stood in the entryway, drinking heavily. All of them wore black clothing and domino masks like his. He glanced around, his heart pounding as he searched for Audrey, but the room held only men. Where was she? Maybe he could slip away and search the rest of the house?

A booming voice came from the grand stairs above. “Welcome, gentlemen.” Jonathan took shelter behind the men drinking as he studied the man coming down the steps to greet them.

“As the Lord of Lust, I welcome you tonight to our satanic feast.” The man held a black cat in his arms. The cat’s ears were flattened back on its head in fear and fury, but it didn’t claw or spit like Jonathan expected it to. The man who held it, the so-called Lord of Lust, had a familiar voice, but one he couldn’t place.

“Langley, I say…” a drunken man drawled. “Did you finally find that Lady Society? You promised you would—” The man hiccupped. “I’d like to toss her skirts up and—”

The Lord of Lust hissed. “I need not remind you, Lord of Wine, that we must address each other by our sin names, not our true names. Anonymity must be preserved.”

The Lord of Wine chuckled. “Oh…right. Well, did you find her, Lusty?”

The man sighed, clearly feeling his theatrics were going to waste. “I did.”

Langley… Jonathan knew that name. Gerald Langley was a ridiculous but dangerous fool who had recently been publicly exposed for his cruelty and villainy.

And the woman who had dragged his name through the mud was Lady Society.

“So where is she?” another man demanded.

“Coming. I sent her an invitation she couldn’t resist. She foolishly believes she will be getting the better of us. For now, I suggest we all settle into the dining room to drink while we await her arrival.”

The group of men moved into a macabre decorated dining room and took seats at the table. Dozens of candles were lit with wax dripping down, lending a Gothic atmosphere to the entire affair. The “Lord of Lust” sat down, and the black cat hissed and leapt off the table, darting into the hallway.

“Bloody cat.” Langley cursed and poured himself a goblet of wine. He leaned back, a small smile on his lips as he surveyed the rest of his worshipers. When the others joined him, Jonathan snatched up a goblet and took a single sip, attempting to blend in. Why was Audrey coming here, of all places? Surely she didn’t have some mission to spy on these men? They weren’t dangerous, at least not to the Crown. Some hellfire clubs had been known to cause trouble and incite violence in the streets, even riots, but from the looks of it, Langley’s club was merely a chance for men to wallow in debauchery.

So why would Audrey choose this place? Then it hit him. Langley had lured Lady Society here tonight. The infamous columnist who had wrought devastation with her pen against those she felt deserved it.

If Audrey was friends with Lady Society, that would explain everything about today’s article. He wanted to growl. Once he found her, he was going to get her safely away from these men and give her bottom a good whack; then he could hold her close and finally breathe a sigh of relief.

The door to the dining room opened, and the butler showed in a new man. There was something familiar about him. He walked with a tall, upright stance that spoke of nobility handed down through ancient bloodlines. He was nothing like the men at this table, the rude and callous ruffians in fancy clothes but with not one ounce of nobility between them. He kept a close eye on the man, trying to puzzle out the sense of familiarity.

The man smiled at some of the members who were busy telling bawdy jokes, and even though the smile seemed forced, Jonathan finally recognized him—at least he thought he did. Was that James Fordyce, the Earl of Pembroke? Surely he wasn’t a member? He had better sense than this, and he was a good man, too good. He was a friend to the League of Rogues but deemed by the League much too nice and good of heart to be a member himself. Surely the League had not misjudged him? Jonathan liked him immensely, and his instincts weren’t usually wrong.

So why then was James here? The man, if it was James, walked over and sat opposite him. Their eyes locked briefly, but neither spoke.

“Gentlemen!” Langley’s shout silenced the stories and laughter. Jonathan turned to Langley like the rest of the men. With the blazing fire behind him, the man was playing perfectly into his role as a satanic worshiper, and it seemed even the Lord of Wine was getting into the spirit of things. He rose from his chair, the lights from the candles playing with the eerie painted face of the mask he wore. Jonathan shuddered in revulsion.

“Tonight, we have a feast prepared. As I mentioned at our previous meeting, we have several special guests, some ladies with whom you are well acquainted.” Langley paused to allow the men to chuckle at some private club joke. The cruelty in Langley’s voice made Jonathan tense. Please let Audrey be safe at home…or anywhere but here.

Langley continued. “They wish to participate in the dark arts, and we have two delicious young virgin beauties who graciously volunteered to sate our need for the blood of the innocent.”

Jonathan shifted forward in his seat, trying to fight the urge to leap from his chair and rush from the room. All he wanted was to find Audrey and see her safely away from these bastards.

The man beside Jonathan nudged him in the ribs. “I’d like to pluck that ripe fruit. What about you?”

Jonathan made a gruff noise and hoped the men would assume he agreed, but the whole event made him sick. Volunteered. He found that highly unlikely. If there was one thing that mattered to him, it was a woman’s right to choose her lovers. This night would likely be a series of rapes. Whoever these ladies were, they weren’t safe.

Please don’t let Audrey be one of them. Please let her have stayed home.

“Are you prepared?” Langley demanded, with a dark grin just visible below the edges of his mask.

The men in the room whooped and whistled as the dining room doors opened and six ladies came in. They took seats at the empty chairs in between the men at the table.

Langley cleared his throat. “My lords, as the Lord of Lust, let me present our guests to you. The Lady of Sin, the Lady of the Night, the Lady of the Dark Desire, and the Lady of the Bedchamber.”

Jonathan studied the women closely as they were named. But when he reached the last two women, his breath caught. A woman in a red dress and a woman in purple sat beside each other. Each wore half-masks, revealing their faces enough to be familiar to him. The lady in purple was Gillian Beaumont, Audrey’s loyal lady’s maid and friend. And the hellion in the red dress was…

“Audrey.” He said the word aloud, but so softly that no one heard him.

Damnation. She’d come after all. She and Gillian. He would have to somehow rescue them both, and the odds weren’t in his favor tonight.

He shot a glance at James Fordyce. He had a hunch about the man’s presence, and prayed he was right. But even if James could aid him in the rescue, they were still woefully outnumbered.

“Now, last but not least, we have a most esteemed guest amongst us. You recall the scathing, poisonous pen of that b***h who calls herself Lady Society?” Langley spat. Jonathan tensed as the men around him pounded on the table. Audrey jumped, and Jonathan saw the muscles in her throat strain as she tried to remain calm.

“Well, tonight I set the perfect trap and lured Lady Society herself to my door. I let it slip at a ball the other evening that we would be meeting tonight and that she wouldn’t want to miss our entertainment.”

Audrey’s face drained of all color, and her lips parted. Jonathan stared in horror and understanding. Audrey wasn’t here to help her friend Lady Society.

She is Lady Society.

And that meant everything she’d said to him in that column had to be the truth, hadn’t it? To leave her alone, that she didn’t want him.

A deep sense of shame threatened to rob his body of breath, but he clung to his resolve. He had to focus on saving her now. It didn’t matter how she felt about him; that wouldn’t stop him from doing what was right.

The consequences of Lady Society’s crusades were finally catching up to her. And now she was going to get them killed.