Page 28 of A Lady’s Dangerous Secret (Scandalous Secrets #1)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

J ames stood next to Gabe at the side of the ballroom as they observed the debauchery unfold before them. His friend kept a watchful eye on his little sister. “I don’t believe a masquerade ball was part of our agreement,” James said.

“Neither did I, but what was I supposed to do? Bridget was going to sneak out on her own to come to this,” Gabe responded grimly.

“You could have forbidden her from attending.”

Gabe nodded. “I should have, but I was almost excited that she wanted to come to a social event on her own volition, even if it was a masquerade. You’ve seen how withdrawn she’s been.

I have been thinking perhaps she had made her debut too soon.

Maybe she needed another year, but I don’t think that’s it. ”

“She is Nemesis,” James offered.

“I noticed, but I don’t know of any man who has hurt her besides our father. And he’s thankfully dead.”

Before they could discuss further, a deep voice rumbled from behind them, “Look who we have here.” James spun around to find a hulking man with fiery hair in a black tunic and mask, sporting a stuffed crow perched on his shoulder.

“Jack?”

“Erebus to be specific. But if you’re going to ruin the fun, then yes, the one and only.”

“What are you doing here? I didn’t expect you,” James said.

“When you told me of the little issue with the insurance money and that you’d be stuck in London until a murderer was caught, I thought I’d keep you company.

” Jack shifted his gaze to Gabe in an assessing manner.

“Plus, I’ve been looking to expand my business into London.

I figured you might be spending some time with toffs, so it seemed a perfect opportunity. ”

James was surprised. He knew how much Jack avoided the ton, but James also knew Jack would do anything to make money.

James introduced Gabe and Jack.

Gabe raised his eyebrows. “This is your boss?”

“Yes, and my childhood best friend.”

Gabe paused for a moment, then seemed to make a decision and nodded. “Doherty.”

Jack eyed Gabe with a mixture of suspicion and loathing.

Gabe lifted his chin in the most aristocratic way. “You can call me Gabe. I would hate for us not to be on a first-name basis when you murder me in my sleep,” he said dryly.

Jack’s face transformed into a smile at the quip, and he laughed heartily.

“Thanks for the permission!” Jack smacked Gabe on his back.

Gabe shook his head good-naturedly, but James knew Jack could easily test Gabe’s patience.

A group of women approached Lady Bridget, who stood at Gabe’s right, but near the dance floor.

As the goddess of revenge, her costume included an impressive set of wings, which to her benefit gave her a wide berth, even in the crush of guests.

He studied the women and determined their identities, despite the disguises.

He recognized the dark-brown hair and erect posture of Lady Beatrice and the fluid movements of the blonde-haired Lady Eleanor.

An older woman trailed behind them, who appeared to be some sort of chaperone.

Lady Bridget’s face lit up as she saw her friends.

But one very important member was missing.

Was Lottie here?

James needed to see her. His remorseful letters had gone unanswered. These past few days had been some of the most painful ones he could remember.

He knew he had acted like a fool. He now felt like the scum of the earth for taking her virginity.

Although her kisses had been innocent, the moment she went to her knees like a practiced courtesan, he had let his cock rule his mind and had told himself she was no virgin.

He had wanted her so badly. All he could think about was making her his and sinking his cock into her delectable cunny.

If he had been truthful with himself about her likely virginity, he would have acted differently, he tried to convince himself. But he could not. He lost all reason when it came to Lottie.

He knew he deserved every minute of torture he had endured since that night.

He did not think she would ever forgive him, and it tormented him beyond measure.

He had barely slept. His stomach was perpetually tied in knots.

He was disgusted with himself, but he also knew her treatment of him was ultimately for the best.

He had no right to her.

She was the daughter of an earl and was destined to become the Duchess of Westcliffe. Yet he had selfishly sought one perfect night with her that he would carry for the rest of his life, even if she became someone else’s wife. Now, he had ruined everything that existed between them.

He had to speak with her. His eyes kept searching for her among the guests who stood near Lady Bridget and her friends. Even in a costume, he would recognize her chestnut hair and the confident way she held her shoulders back. James expanded the perimeter of his search.

His eyes suddenly detected a woman weaving through the crowd. James’s stomach tightened. “Gabe, I’ll be back.”

He made his way through the throng of people, side-stepping anyone who got in his way. He needed to reach that familiar veiled woman, the same woman he’d seen in Roberts’s office: Mrs. Gibson.

Luckily his height allowed him to keep his eyes trained on the black veil that wove in and out of the clusters of guests toward the doors that exited the ballroom.

It was her. The same color hair, the same height, and the same way she carried herself.

He ignored the protestations from a man he elbowed who did not move out of the way quickly enough. He arrived at the doors just before the veiled woman reached her destination and positioned himself in front of her.

This is it. I’ve finally found Mrs. Gibson.

The veiled woman stopped abruptly.

”James?”

His knees almost buckled beneath him.

Lottie? No, it couldn’t be.

His mind spun. “You’re Mrs. Gibson?”

He heard a gasp from beneath the veil, and Lottie tried to shove past him.

He was so unsettled that he was caught unawares by her delicate frame colliding with him.

He almost lost his balance as she moved away.

Once he was steady, he turned and saw her disappear into the bottleneck of guests who were trying to enter and exit the ballroom.

He started after her, but a woman stepped in front of him. “Not now!” he growled.

“Oh, but you’re so handsome and so…big.”

He looked down to see a woman clinging to his arm, pushing her breasts against him.

“I’m not interested.” He peeled her hands off his arm and stepped around her.

“Dammit!” he cursed under his breath, as he tried to muscle his way past other guests and through the doorway.

Once he finally made it out of the ballroom, his mind raced with possibilities. He ran toward the front of the home, reasoning that she was intent on making a hasty exit.

James darted outside the house and the cool, fresh air took away his breath momentarily after the stuffiness of the ball.

He assessed the scene before him. Carriage after carriage lined up along the road in front of the property awaiting their owners.

On top of that, vehicles were still entering the drive that led to the house to drop off arriving guests.

James sprinted to the line of equipages and proceeded to hastily check each one for a veiled head of chestnut hair.

He was such an idiot.

How did he not realize Lottie was Mrs. Gibson?

Infatuation, that’s what it was. She had put him under her spell, and he had become blind to what was so obviously in front of him.

As he hurriedly moved from one carriage to the next, the yells of angered coachmen filtered through the night air. He eventually reached the end of the line, winded and frustrated.

There was no sign of Lottie.

He leaned over with his hands resting on his thighs while he caught his breath. He took a moment to process what had just happened and then buried his face in his hands.

Lottie was a murderess.

The carriage rattled along the streets of London.

Charlotte kept looking out the window expecting James to be coming hellbent after her.

She thanked her lucky stars that when she dashed out of the Stanhope estate, she was able to find Nate’s carriage with the Pulverbatch family crest on the side.

The coachman had previously worked for the family in Shropshire, so with her veil removed, he took one look at her panic-stricken face, and they were on their way back to the city posthaste.

She still did not see James trailing the vehicle, which gave her a small sense of relief; however, it did not assuage the overwhelming terror she felt.

He knew.

Just one word from him to the magistrate and she would be swinging from the gallows. Every worst-case scenario flashed through her mind. It did not help that she was in a carriage, which brought her back to that fateful day.

She had managed High Crest Hall’s ledgers and discovered the new man of business, Roberts, was skimming money from her family. Claiming to be Arthur, she had forged a letter demanding a meeting. Roberts had denied her request, so she decided to go in person and confront the man.

Charlotte figured he would refuse to meet with a member of her family, given his earlier rejection of the letter, so she came up with the disguise of Mrs. Gibson.

This poor widow had just lost her husband and was looking for a capable man to manage her affairs.

Could she please meet with someone as highly recommended as Roberts to help her?

It worked like a charm, and she had gained entry to his office with a pistol stowed in her reticule as a safeguard.

Being ignored by her parents as a child had an occasional perk, and had left her free to learn how to shoot like her brothers.

Roberts quickly realized her identity when she accused him of stealing from the Earl of Pulverbatch.

He attempted to kill her, and she reacted by shooting him in self-defense.

Charlotte fled.