“You’ve already come up with a scheme.”
Her lips curled into a smile. “Perhaps. Or at least the beginning of one.”
He thrust his hands into her hair and pulled her to him for a long, searing kiss. “I never imagined I would love someone again. I never wanted to.”
Her answering smile was bright and wonderful, and it filled all the darkest crevasses in Rafe’s heart. “I’m glad you let down your guard and decided to let me in.”
“Just promise you won’t leave me.” He couldn’t bear to lose anyone else.
“I promise.” She kissed him again, and it was as if he stood in the sun, eyes closed as delicious warmth bathed his soul.
He loved her optimism, her determination, her absolute ferocity to protect and care for those she loved. If anything happened to her as a result of this scheme, there would be nowhere Ludlow Mallory could hide that would keep him safe.
Chapter 17
The summer night was warm and perfect. The moon was up, and the stars were growing brighter by the moment in a nearly dark sky. The scent of roses, honeysuckle, and fresh-cut grass filled the air. The sounds of the ball carried on the faint breeze: laughter, conversation, and the music emanating from the ballroom, though most everyone was outside, either in Brixton Park’s famed maze or the surrounding area. It felt like a pleasure garden such as Vauxhall, not a private estate hosting perhaps the last large ball of the Season.
Despite all that, Anne stood near the maze with Jane and Anthony and felt none of the giddy excitement such an evening should herald. Instead, she was a bundle of apprehension as she went over their plan in her mind for the hundredth time and prayed nothing would go wrong.
If things went awry, it certainly wouldn’t be because they hadn’t thoroughly prepared. Or that they didn’t have enough help. In addition to Anne and Rafe, their extended families were also part of the scheme—Jane and Anthony, Selina and Harry, Beatrix and Thomas. Even Harry’s brother, North.
“Have you seen him yet?” Jane asked, surveying the crowd. They’d arrived nearly an hour ago and had spent time speaking with the hosts, the Marquess and Marchioness of Ripley, as well as several other friends.
“Rafe or my godfather?” Anne hadn’t seen either despite looking desperately for them both. Ludlow, because finding him and luring him inside was the start of the plan. And Rafe because, well, she wanted to see him.
No, she needed to. Seeing him would give her all the courage she needed. Not that she was afraid. She was angry. And ready to ensure her godfather paid for his crimes.
“Mallory,” Jane answered.
“No, I haven’t.” She’d assumed Rafe would be easy to spot, given the fact that he towered over most people. A tall, blond gentleman several yards away caught her eye. Anne took a step forward. “Is that Rafe?”
Jane clasped her arm. “You’re not supposed to speak with him. In fact, if you come into contact with him, you must give him the cut direct. You’ve a role to play for your godfather.”
“I know.” And for that reason, she must not cross Rafe’s path, for she really didn’t want to give him the cut direct, even if it was only pretend.
Anthony leaned toward them. “Here comes Mallory.” No one in their tight circle referred to him as Stone or the earl anymore. He was Ludlow or Mallory or, perhaps most often, that blackguard.
A rush of anticipation—and not the good kind—swept through Anne. She straightened her shoulders and hoped he wouldn’t be able to see the fury beneath her lies.
Jane gave Anne’s hand a quick squeeze before edging closer to Anthony on her other side.
Ludlow smiled as he approached. “Good evening, my dear Anne. Jane. Colton.” He inclined his head toward Anthony who greeted him with a clipped “Stone.”
Anne worried that he sounded annoyed and hoped it didn’t prick her godfather’s curiosity. She rushed to distract him. “Godfather! I’m so glad to see you.”
“In truth, I’m surprised to see you. You avoided Society after Chamberlain was arrested, and I feared you would go into hiding again given what’s come to light about your most recent betrothed.” He gave her a sad look that only further exacerbated her ill feelings toward him.
Flexing her hands, she summoned a smile. “I’ve decided not to let your nephew get the best of me. I’m better off without him, and I want everyone to know it.”
“Hear, hear!” Ludlow crowed, beaming with pride.
Anthony looked to Ludlow and then Anne. “Will you excuse us? Jane and I wish to go speak with the Duke and Duchess of Halstead.”
“Of course,” Anne said, eager for them to leave, for then she could get her godfather into the house where she would get him to confess his crimes while Harry and his brother North listened. She glanced toward the house, where the two brothers stood in the shadows watching for her and Ludlow.
“Have you been into the ballroom?” Anne asked. There was a chamber nearby with refreshments and separate seating areas in which to meet and gather. Adjoining that was a smaller chamber where she could get her godfather alone and leave the door ajar so Harry and North could eavesdrop. Harry would then come in and arrest Ludlow for the murder of Rafe’s parents.
“I haven’t yet.”
She smiled up at him eagerly. “Would you mind escorting me? I’d love to see it.”
Before he could answer, Deborah strode up to them, rather, she wobbled. “Evening Papa, Anne.” She frowned at Anne then took her hand. Holding it between her two palms and squeezing, Deborah looked intently into Anne’s eyes. “Papa told me about my cousin—that scoundrel. It’s good you found out now. Before the wedding. Can you imagine if you had a second betrothed arrested on your wedding day?”
“Deborah!” Ludlow whispered urgently. “Keep your voice down. You aren’t helping dear Anne.”
“No, I suppose not.” She hiccupped, bringing her hand to her mouth and letting Anne go. “My apologies, Anne.” Her eyes narrowed at something in the distance. It was evident she’d already had much to drink. “Look at them milling about as if they should be accepted in Society. Disgusting.”
“Who?” Ludlow asked, pivoting so he could look in the direction of Deborah’s gaze.
“Those pretenders—my cousin, Selina.” She said the name as if it were a vulgarity. “And her fake sister, the bastard. I suppose I must suffer Selina’s presence since she’s managed to marry well, but Beatrix is a bastard and should be shunned.”
Anne had been momentarily stunned by Deborah’s vitriol, but managed to speak through her gritted teeth. “Except she also married well.”
“Bah. She took advantage of Rockbourne. He was grieving. She’s a liar and a fraud. And a bastard.” Her voice rose as she spoke, and heads around them turned in their direction. It was too much to hope that no one had heard what she’d said.
“Deborah!” Anne’s godfather repeated, his brows pitching low as his forehead creased.
“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear you, Lady Burnhope.” The Duke of Ramsgate joined them. Of average height with an above average paunch, the duke was a widower and also the next-door neighbor of Beatrix. Had he come to her defense?