After Midnight Page 6

  They’d traveled only a few feet when Portia tugged her to a halt again. “Oh, look, Caro! They have iced cream!”

  Caroline turned to find her sister gazing longingly at an Italian vendor who was handing over a paper cone filled with lemon ice to an elegantly garbed young lady close to Portia’s age.

  “Please Portia! We have neither the time nor the money for such nonsense right now.” Caroline dragged her sister back into motion, but as her eyes scanned the path ahead of them, she realized it was too late. Kane was gone.

  “Oh, no,” she breathed, letting go of Portia’s hand.

  Leaving her sister standing there, she pushed her way through the crowd, tugging down her mask to frantically search for the viscount. But it was no use. Kane had vanished, swallowed up by the steady stream of revelers.

  Revelers or prey? she wondered, touched by a sudden chill.

  That chill hardened to a deep freeze when she heard a familiar cackle of laughter. Without thinking, she whirled around. Aunt Marietta and Vivienne were sweeping down the path, heading straight toward her. They had strolled right past Portia, too engrossed in their chatter to notice the masked young woman standing paralyzed in the middle of the walk.

  Exchanging a panicked look with Portia, Caroline fumbled for the ribbons of her mask. In a few more seconds the women would be upon her.

  “Aunt Marietta!” Portia shouted, dragging off her mask.

  The two women turned as one. Caroline didn’t know whether to burst into tears of dread or relief.

  “Portia? Is that you?” Vivienne called out, bewilderment ringing in her voice.

  Portia’s face crumpled. “Oh, Vivienne! Aunt Marietta! I was so frightened! I’m so glad you’ve come!” She launched herself at their aunt, throwing her arms around Aunt Marietta’s ample waist and burying her face in her ruffled bosom.

  Behind their aunt’s back, she gave Caroline a frantic hand signal. Caroline took the cue, ducking behind the graceful column of a Gothic temple at the edge of the path.

  “What on earth are you doing here, child?” Aunt Marietta trumpeted, grimacing with distaste as she struggled to pry Portia’s hands from her gown. “You’re supposed to be at home in bed.”

  Portia straightened, but not before using one of her aunt’s ruffles to dab at her nose. “I’m afraid I’ve been very naughty,” she confessed, still sniffing pitiably. “I was terribly angry at you for leaving me behind tonight when I knew it would only be a few days before I was shipped back to the country. I’ve always wanted to see Vauxhall so I waited until Caroline fell asleep, stole some coins from her purse, and snuck out of your lodgings. But as soon as I got here, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake. I got so scared, and now I just want to go ho-o-o-ome!” Portia’s voice broke on a wail.

  Caroline rolled her eyes, grateful for once that her baby sister had always been such a convincing liar. One would have to possess a heart of stone to doubt her brimming eyes and trembling lips.

  “Why, you wicked girl! I ought to send you back to Edgeleaf first thing in the morning.” As Aunt Marietta lifted one hammy fist as if to box Portia’s ears, Caroline tensed, ready to spring out of her hiding place.

  “What are the two of you doing here?” Portia demanded, her tone just accusing enough to startle Aunt Marietta into lowering her hand. “Why aren’t you at your precious card party?”

  “Lady Marlybone took ill and we hadn’t a fourth for our table,” Aunt Marietta explained.

  “It was such a beautiful night that Auntie suggested we take a stroll through the gardens before retiring.” A note of poorly suppressed merriment rippled through Vivienne’s voice. “I can assure you that it had nothing to do with the fact that we spotted Lord Trevelyan’s crest on a carriage parked just outside.”

  Aunt Marietta sighed. “There’s no help for it now, is there? You might as well come along with us. I refuse to let a disobedient little chit spoil such a fine evening. I suppose it’s not your fault that silly sister of mine never taught you any manners. It was my good fortune to inherit both the looks and the brains in the family.”

  Tilting her pug nose in the air, Aunt Marietta linked her arm through Vivienne’s and went sailing away down the walk, giving Portia no choice but to drift along in their wake. Portia lingered behind just long enough to throw a wink over her shoulder at Caroline, giving Caroline her unspoken blessing to proceed with their mission.

  Caroline slowly straightened, her heart swelling with gratitude. Her little sister’s ruse had bought her both time and opportunity.

  Setting her mask back in place and tightening its ribbons, she hastened down the walk where Kane had vanished, determined to find him before they did.

  Caroline had never realized it was possible to feel so alone while surrounded by so many people. As she wandered the garden’s crowded walks, she searched every gentleman’s face and form in vain. Twice she would have sworn she caught a glimpse of honey-gold hair and the commanding swirl of a shoulder-cape just ahead of her, but she would battle her way through the crush only to find herself bobbing along in a sea of strangers.

  As the night deepened and the crowds began to thin, a group of giggling beaus and belles ran past, their faces also masked. The dappled shadows gave their hollow eyes and leering lips a sinister cast. One of them thrust a branch of bells in her face, laughing wildly.

  She recoiled, gritting her teeth. She was just beginning to wish that she’d been the one to run into Aunt Marietta’s arms, weeping and begging for forgiveness, when she spotted a lone man through the trees, strolling on a path that ran parallel to hers.

  Her pulse quickening, Caroline ducked beneath the feathery branch of a cedar and darted through the glade. She emerged on a deserted stretch of walk. There was no sign of the man she had seen.

  The path was narrower here, the lanterns spaced farther apart, the trees closer. Their interlaced branches formed a murky canopy over her head, blocking out the last traces of the moonlight. With a sinking heart, Caroline realized that she must have stumbled upon the infamous Lover’s Walk, the most legendary trysting place in all of London.

  The Walk’s notoriety had spread all the way to Edgeleaf. It was whispered that here, among these winding paths and leafy glades, ladies who had married for money came to find love. Here that gentlemen who had been banished from their wives’ chilly beds came to seek warmer and more welcoming arms. Here that both libertines and respected members of the House of Lords came to indulge their appetites for pleasures so dark and delicious that no one dared even whisper of them.

  Caroline started as a low moan came out of the darkness ahead of her. She took an involuntary step toward the sound, fearing that someone was in distress. And as it turned out, they were, but not the sort of distress she had anticipated.

  Just a few feet off the path, a man had a woman pinned against the smooth trunk of an elder tree. Their casual dishabille was somehow more shocking than if they’d been naked. The man’s coat and shirt hung half off of his sun-bronzed shoulders, while the woman’s skirt had been gathered to just above her knees, revealing a glimpse of silk stocking and milky thigh. The man was lavishing caresses and kisses on the one plump breast that had escaped the top of the woman’s bodice. His other hand had disappeared beneath her skirt.

  Caroline couldn’t even begin to imagine what he might be doing to her under there to make her writhe and moan in such a shameless manner.

  Against her will, she felt her own breath quicken, her own flesh begin to heat. The woman’s glazed eyes drifted open and met Caroline’s over her companion’s shoulder. Her kiss-swollen lips curved in a smug smile, as if she possessed an exquisite secret Caroline would never know.

  Drawing up the hood of her cloak to shield her flaming cheeks, Caroline hastened past them. She longed to retrace her steps, but couldn’t bear the thought of passing by the lovers again. Perhaps if she just kept going, she could find another way out of this bewildering maze of paths.

  For several minutes she
didn’t pass a single soul. Her sense of unease grew with each step, as did the rhythmic rustling of the leaves behind her.

  “It’s just the wind,” she murmured, quickening her pace yet again.

  A branch cracked in the woods to her left. She whipped around, clapping a hand to her pounding heart. Although her straining eyes failed to detect even a ghost of movement, she could not shake the sensation that someone—or something—was watching her from the shadows, some malevolent presence that was content to bide its time until she relaxed her guard. That quickly, the hunter had become the prey.

  She whirled around to run. She’d barely taken three long strides before she crashed headlong into a masculine chest. If the impact hadn’t dazed her, the man’s breath would have. He’d obviously drunk far more than his share of the stout Vauxhall punch so prized by the garden’s regular patrons. The fumes roiling from his breath were strong enough to make her eyes water.

  Blinking to clear her vision, she saw that he was lanky, fair-haired, and barely old enough to grow whiskers, with an innocuous scattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Judging from his beaver top hat and the fine cut of his broadcloth coat, he was also a gentleman.

  “Excuse me, sir,” she said, relief flooding her as she fought to catch her breath. “I seem to have lost my way. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to direct me back to the Grand Walk?”

  “Well, what have we here?” he crooned, steadying her with one hand while plucking down her hood with the other. “Little Red Riding Hood on her way to Grandma’s house?”

  A second lad came swinging out from the trees behind him, landing on the balls of his feet with the grace of a young cat. His top hat sat askew on his dark curls. “Didn’t anyone tell you that these woods were full of big bad wolves just waiting to gobble up little girls like you?”

  As Caroline’s startled gaze darted from one face to the other, she saw that these two required no masks. Their leers were genuine.

  She gave her captor’s chest a shove, breaking free from his possessive grip. “I’m not on my way to Grandma’s house and I’m hardly a little girl!” Fighting to keep her voice more steady than her hands, she added, “I can see that the two of you are gentlemen. I was hoping you’d be willing to lend assistance to a lady.”

  Hitching his thumbs in the pockets of his waistcoat, the dark-haired young buck snorted. “No lady would come strolling down this walk all alone unless she was looking for a little sport.”

  “I was looking for a man,” Caroline blurted out, desperate to make them understand.

  The fair-haired lad’s grin was all the more chilling for being so genial. “Then I’m sure two of them will be twice the sport.”

  As they advanced on her, their swaggering gaits none too steady, Caroline began to back away. Through a haze of fear, she remembered the unfortunate girl who had been dragged from her mother’s side. According to Aunt Marietta, no one had heeded her screams until it was too late.

  Knowing she had to try anyway, Caroline was opening her mouth to let loose a bloodcurdling shriek when she backed right into the arms of a third man.

  One powerful arm encircled her shoulders from behind, settling just above the swell of her breasts. “Sorry to disappoint you lads,” said a deep, smoky rumble of a voice, “but there’s more than just wolves roaming these woods tonight.”

  Chapter Six

  Caroline sagged with relief, cradled by the sandalwood-and-bay-rum-scented warmth of Adrian Kane’s embrace. She’d promised him she wasn’t the type to swoon into a man’s arms, but his undeniable strength made such a notion oddly enticing. Especially coupled with his devastating self-assurance. She couldn’t escape the notion that he was the sort of man who would know exactly what to do with any woman he happened to find in his arms.

  “Who in the bloody hell are you?” her fair-haired attacker demanded, his genial grin replaced by a sullen scowl.

  Kane’s voice was matter-of-fact, almost jovial. “I’m the one who ate the Big Bad Wolf and left nothing behind but bones.”

  The lad exchanged an uncertain glance with his companion. The dark-haired boy stepped forward until the two of them stood shoulder-to-shoulder. “We’re just out for a bit of sport on this fine spring night,” he said earnestly, tugging off his top hat. “We’ve no quarrel with you, sir.”

  “If you want to keep it that way, I suggest that you and your friend here move along and forget you ever strayed down this path.”

  “That’s not fair!” snarled the other boy, poking his chest out with the foolish bravado of youth. “We were the ones who snared her. She’s ours!”

  Before Caroline could so much as sputter a retort, Kane said smoothly, “Not anymore. She’s mine now.”

  That primal claim, coming from Kane’s lips and delivered with such absolute conviction, sent an involuntary shiver dancing along Caroline’s skin. His grip tightened, warning her that he had felt it.

  “You can have her when we’re done, if you like,” offered the dark-haired young man, obviously planning a future career as a diplomat in the Home Office. “The two of us, we know how to treat a lady.” He wet his top lip with his tongue, his suggestive gaze flickering over Caroline. “She may start out begging for mercy, but by the time we’re through with her, she’ll be begging for more.”

  Kane’s entire body tensed, as if poised to spring. But he simply said, “No, thank you. I’ve always had a taste for fresh meat.”

  Appalled by his deliberate crudity, Caroline stiffened. She tried to twist around to see his expression, but his implacable grip held her steady.

  “This is a lot of rubbish,” declared the fair-haired lad. “There’s two of us and only one of him. I say we take her back.”

  As the two exchanged a defiant glance, Kane murmured, “Excuse me, dear. I’ll only be a moment,” and set her away from him with firm but gentle hands.

  He was right. One minute both of her attackers were rushing toward him, the next they were sprawled on the ground, groaning aloud. Blood streamed from the blond’s freckled nose. The other boy hung his head and spit out a tooth, his split lip already swelling to twice its size.

  Kane stood there in the middle of the path without so much as a bead of sweat on his brow, tapping the end of his walking stick across his palm.

  He took an almost imperceptible step in their direction, and they both went scrambling backward on elbows and heels like wounded crabs. “The next time you two cubs want to do a little hunting, I suggest you invest in a pack of hounds and join a fox club. Otherwise, you just might find your own pelts mounted on my wall.”

  Still glaring daggers at him, they staggered to their feet and stumbled away through the trees, groaning and cursing beneath their breaths.

  Kane slowly turned toward Caroline. Although he didn’t so much as twitch a muscle in her direction, his intentions were clear.

  He had dealt with them. Now he would deal with her.

  She straightened her mask, still hoping against hope that he had not recognized her. “Thank you, sir. Your gallantry is much appreciated.”

  “Is that so?”

  Unnerved by his inscrutable gaze, she began to back away from him. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along at such an opportune moment.”

  “Opportune for the both of us, it would seem,” he replied, matching her retreat step for step.

  Was it her imagination or was his gaze lingering on the pale curve of her throat? On the pulse that fluttered beneath her soft white skin? She touched a hand there, but it seemed a feeble defense indeed.

  I’ve always had a taste for fresh meat.

  His words drifted back to haunt her. What if he’d been talking about satisfying a different sort of hunger altogether?

  Fighting to ward off the ridiculous fancy, she backed right into a pool of moonlight. Its misty glow did not deter him. He just kept coming, his every step as measured as the tolling of the distant church bell heralding the arrival of midnight.

/>   “I should be getting back to my party,” she said, growing more breathless with each step. “We were separated and they’re probably frantic with worry by now.”

  “As well they should be…”

  She turned to flee, half expecting one of his powerful arms to encircle her again. One of his big, warm hands to splay over the delicate curve of her jaw, to tilt her head to the side and expose the vulnerable curve of her throat so he could lean down and sink his—

  “…Miss Cabot,” he finished.

  Caroline froze in her tracks, then whirled back around to face him, unaccountably angry that he’d seen through her ridiculous little masquerade. “How did you know?”

  Propping his walking stick against a nearby tree, he closed the distance between them in a few long strides. “By your hair. I don’t think any other woman in London has hair quite that hue.” He reached to tug a strand from her tightly woven chignon, sifting the wispy stuff through his fingers as if it was the rarest of silks. “It’s like liquid moonlight.”

  Caught off guard by the unexpected caress, Caroline slowly lifted her gaze to his. Despite the tenderness of his touch, his eyes still glittered with anger.

  Jarred by the traitorous tingle both his touch and his words invoked, she rescued the errant strand, then drew up her hood to cover her hair.

  Accepting the unspoken rebuke, he folded his arms over his chest. “Perhaps you’d care to explain why you were following me and just how you managed to lose your little sister and end up in such a predicament. I thought you were supposed to be the sensible one in the family.”

  “But I am the sensible one! Or at least I was. Until I met—” She stopped, biting her lower lip. “How long have you known I was following you?”

  “Since the moment your hack pulled out behind my carriage in Berkeley Square. I strongly suggest you never seek a position in the War Office. You seem to lack the required skulking and creeping skills required for a career in espionage.”