The League of Rogues

Chapter 1-2

The first thing Ashton heard as he pushed open the door was Cedric Sheridan’s chortling.

“Ash will be furious. Lady Society is calling him out.” The viscount was leaning back in his chair, holding a copy of the Quizzing Glass, grinning.

“Again?” the others asked.

“It’s a good thing whoever writes that column remains anonymous. Ash would destroy her.”

“Nothing ruffles Ash. He’s far too clearheaded.” Godric St. Laurent, the Duke of Essex, reached for the paper and scanned it. “Wait until Emily reads this. She is convinced that Ash and Lady Melbourne need to meet in a proper setting where they are forced to be civil.”

Lucien Russell, the Marquess of Rochester, stood by the window and turned at Godric’s words. “That’s all Horatia has been talking about for the last month. She said Anne invited them to tea with Lady Melbourne this afternoon.”

Ashton stood in the doorway, listening to the three married members of the League discuss their wives with lighthearted amusement. He burst out laughing, startling his friends, who hadn’t been aware of his presence. “Good Lord, you let your wives meet for tea?”

Lucien was the first to respond. “You know how much trouble it is to try to stop them. If I ever said no, Horatia would throw an embroidered pillow at my head. Followed by a vase.”

“They are as bonded to one another as we are, I’m afraid,” said Godric. “Even gave themselves that blasted name. The Society of…” He trailed off, forgetting.

Lucien moved his hands in the air, as though displaying the name in the air. “The Society of Rebellious Ladies.”

“Quite.” Cedric chuckled and put his booted feet up on the nearest table. “So long as Audrey isn’t among them, they can’t get into too much trouble.”

Ashton wasn’t entirely certain he agreed with that. Audrey Sheridan was Cedric’s youngest sister, and while she was trouble enough, Ashton knew the other ladies were almost as talented at getting into mischief.

“Ash, have a look.” Godric handed the Gazette to him as Ashton took a chair next to him.

He glanced down at the article they’d been discussing when he arrived. His temper soon flared.

“Hiding behind my fleet of ships, am I?” The growl that escaped him was completely unexpected. Struggling for calm, Ashton closed his eyes and counted to ten in Latin as he’d done all his life when quelling his temper. When he opened his eyes again, he was smiling. It mattered naught. His plan was set in motion, and soon Rosalind would be dealt with.

“Well, she does have it right about you three.” He checked the article again to recite the exact words. “‘Succumbing to the charms of Eros and taking wives.’”

Godric plucked the paper from Ashton’s hands. “I wish I knew who wrote this drivel. Probably some old bat on Upper Wimpole Street who can’t find a proper way into the ton, exercising her vengeance for not being among the elite few.” His slightly sarcastic tone hinted at his dislike of his own class.

Lucien swirled his glass of brandy and left his position by the window to take an empty chair by Cedric. Inspiration seemed to strike him.

“Why don’t we put our darling wives on it? It would certainly keep them busy and out of our affairs for a change if they were off solving a mystery.”

Cedric laughed. “I dare say they might even learn who she is, but there is no way Emily, Anne or Horatia would betray one of their own. And as hard as we try, there’s no stopping them when it comes to our affairs.”

Ashton nodded his agreement. But the problem that lay heavy upon his heart was the danger that one part of the League’s past presented to the women in their lives.

As if echoing Ashton’s trepidation, Godric crossed his arms, a grim look in his green eyes. “That reminds me, where do we stand on the Waverly matter?”

Ashton was seized with tension, every muscle knotting. Waverly always drew out dark memories and old fears, along with a tide of guilt.

There was a time that Hugo was merely an annoying privileged sod they’d met at Cambridge. But due to an old family vendetta, Waverly had attempted to kill their friend Charles, but another student had died that night instead. One who had been blameless and only trying to make peace. It was a moment that had changed all their lives.

Ashton’s palms twitched, as though he could feel the taint of that innocent man’s blood still coating his hands.

“He’s been seen at the docks where my fleet is, but I haven’t been able to ascertain what his intentions are at present. I suggest we all watch one another until Waverly’s next scheme reveals itself.”

Godric tried to hold back a scowl but failed. Patience had never been one of his virtues when he felt action could be taken.

Ashton reached into his waistcoat and pulled out a small pocket watch on a slender silver chain. It had been one hour since he’d given his instructions to the last of the banks regarding Rosalind’s credit. In less than half an hour, the men he’d met with would be sending in notices to Rosalind’s bank to demand their notes be cashed in for gold. The little Scottish hellion would pay for embarrassing him at the theater last month.

If only I could see her face the moment she realizes she’s ruined.

Of course, he wasn’t so cruel as to send her to debtors’ prison. The woman would get her fortune back in time, after he learned what secrets Hugo held within her business, after she learned he was not to be trifled with. Lady Melbourne deserved such a lesson for challenging him.

“Good God, Ash is grinning. That’s never a good sign,” Lucien muttered.

Ashton broke out of the almost gleeful thoughts he’d been having.

“Ash.” Godric’s tone was full of warning. “Care to share with us what is going on in that head of yours?”

Cedric, Lucien and Godric all leaned forward, as though afraid to be overheard despite the privacy of the club’s Bombay Room. The grandfather clock in the corner chimed the hour, but it did not distract his friends’ rapt attention.

Ashton slipped his watch back into his coat pocket and met their stares.

“As of one hour ago, I set a plan in motion that will financially break Lady Melbourne. It will allow me to put a stop to her activities and therefore hurt Waverly.”

“She’s in league with him?” asked Cedric.

“All I know for certain is that he’s been using her ships to his own ends, and I want to stop him. He’s partnered with her in several companies, and I wish to gain access to her books as well as shipping manifests. But the only way I can review her companies is to have a claim on them myself. Therefore, I’ve bought up most of her debts—not that she had many. I will own her in all but name.”

A low whistle escaped Cedric’s lips. “Ash, our wives have invited her to tea this afternoon.”

For the first time in a long while, Ashton felt gleeful. “If only I were there to see her face when she learns the truth.” To see her beautiful gray eyes wide with shock, her lips parted as she sucked in a surprised breath… It would be almost as beautiful as having claimed her body in his bed. But since he could not have her body—one did not sleep with one’s enemies, after all—this would have to suffice.

It was several moments later when his friends finally broke the silence.

“It’s not because of the incident at the theater is it?” Lucien queried. “You’re wanting revenge because she got the upper hand in that alcove?” Cedric snickered, and Godric cursed under his breath. It was not the response Ashton had been expecting. In the past, this would have been normal for the League. They would have been congratulating him for such a victory.

“What?” Ash demanded hotly when the others remained silent.

Godric rubbed a hand through his dark hair. “What if Lady Melbourne takes this too personally and brings those wild brothers of hers down from Scotland? I still have nightmares about the last time I tangled with them. One of them broke a bloody chair over my back. I was left to pay for the damages to the tavern we fought in.”

“Three wild Scotsmen do not scare me.” Ashton had never lost a boxing match, and he had never lost a tavern brawl either. While Charles was the group’s true pugilist, Ashton’s skill was on par with his, though he fought only when necessary.

“No, one should scare you,” grumbled Godric. “Three should terrify you.”

“Isn’t anyone else worried that right now our wives are entertaining the victim of Ash’s scheme?” Cedric asked. “If they discover we knew about this, I’m liable to be spending the next month sleeping in my study rather than in bed with my wife.”

The murmurs of agreement from Godric and Lucien made Ashton scowl at the lot of them.

“I’m starting to believe Charles was right. You are all getting soft.”

Charles had once said that love and marriage were tearing the League apart, destroying its strength. At the time Ashton hadn’t been inclined to believe him, but of late…

A rap on the door made them all turn to the entrance of the Bombay Room. A young lad opened the door, his eyes wide and hands shaking a little with the letter he carried. Their reputation still held some in awe, at least.

“Excuse the intrusion, my lords. I have an urgent letter for Lord Lennox.” The boy’s face darted between them. He sensed he’d interrupted something and no doubt felt the invisible tension present in the room.

Ashton waved at the lad. “Bring it here.”

The boy practically threw it at Ashton and fled.

“At least someone still has the good sense to be afraid of us,” Godric sniggered.

The thin paper contained a short message from his youngest sister, Joanna.

Ashton,

You must come home at once. Our two tenant farms caught fire last night and are completely destroyed. Thankfully no one was hurt. The families are safe but without shelter. Please come home. The farmhouses will need to be rebuilt at once.

Yours,

Joanna

Ashton calmly folded the letter and tucked it into the inner pocket of his coat.

“Bad news?” Lucien inquired.

“It’s from my sister. She says my two tenant farmers’ houses burned down. I must go home at once.” He rose from his chair.

“What about Lady Melbourne?” Cedric asked.

“What about her?”

Cedric raised a brow. “You set her up for financial ruin and now you’re leaving London?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “If she decides to come grovel at my feet, please feel free to send her to my estate. I’ll be happy to entertain her apologies there.”

He swept his coat on and left the Bombay Room, leaving his friends behind.

If only it would come to that—Lady Melbourne on her knees, begging him for forgiveness, her gray eyes bright with pretty tears and her long dark hair swept back in a Grecian fashion. Those long curls caressing her neck…

Yes, Ashton had imagined the scene too often in the last week. How he’d tell Lady Melbourne that if she really wanted to appease him she could think of a few creative ways to make amends, behind closed doors. Not that he could trust her even in bed, and he’d certainly never coerce a woman to bed him, but such fantasies were worth exploring in his head.

Ashton departed Berkley’s and hailed a hackney. He would have his valet pack light so they could reach his estate quickly. Joanna’s note was troubling. While fires were common enough, the fact that both his tenants were miles apart was troubling.

I do not believe in such coincidences.

Once again he imagined a chessboard in his mind. A game was in play, the League versus Waverly, and the clock was ticking down to each move and countermove.