Wait Until Midnight

“What in God’s name did you do?” he asked tightly.

  “I finally remembered my parasol. It was attached to my waist by the new chatelaine that Aunt Emma and Aunt Milly had given me for my birthday. I unsnapped it and stopped on the bridge. I used the parasol as though it were a long sword, stabbing toward Aurora’s face. She fell back, instinctively trying to protect her eyes, I suppose. But she was off balance. The back of her knee struck the low railing of the footbridge. She went over the edge and into the river. The water was very deep. She could not swim.”

  “She drowned?” Adam asked.

  Ivybridge snorted. “Nothing so neat and tidy. It happens that, among her other unladylike accomplishments, Miss Connor is an excellent swimmer. She stripped down to her chemise without a thought to propriety, went into the water and dragged the wretched Miss Kent to safety. Both women were discovered, soaking wet and dressed in their lingerie, by one of the tenants on my estate. A shocking sight, I assure you. The gossip did not die down for months.”

  “What happened to Aurora Kent?” Richard asked. “I trust she was sent to an asylum?”

  Caroline raised her head from Adam’s shoulder. “She took her own life later that same afternoon.”

  “Used her father’s pistol to accomplish what the river had failed to do,” Ivybridge said offhandedly. “Rendering Miss Connor’s ridiculous rescue entirely moot.”

  “What happened to the knife?” Adam asked.

  “Aurora Kent had it in her hand when she fell into the river,” Caroline whispered. “She dropped it in the deep water beneath the footbridge. I suppose it is still there in the mud on the bottom.”

  “It was all a great uproar, I assure you,” Ivybridge said. “Just to top it off, there were rumors to the effect that Miss Connor and I had been involved in an illicit affair. What with one thing and another, Miss Connor’s reputation was in tatters.”

  Richard took his hand off the mantel and bowed respectfully to Caroline. “I stand in awe of your heroic nature, Miss Connor.”

  Julia got to her feet. “As do I, Caroline. Indeed, I am greatly moved by this sad tale. In my opinion, Ivybridge’s actions lack any semblance of honor or nobility.”

  Ivybridge was thunderstruck. “I beg your pardon, madam. I am a gentleman.”

  “I agree entirely with my wife,” Richard said. He looked at Ivybridge. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”

  “I never did like you, Ivybridge,” Wilson said. “Please find your wife in the ballroom and leave immediately. You are no longer welcome as a guest in this household.”

  Ivybridge’s face scrunched up first in disbelief and then in growing alarm. Adam could see that it had finally dawned on him that his role in the episode in Chillingham was not viewed with approval by anyone present.

  “Now, see here.” Ivybridge lurched to his feet. “I was attempting to do you a favor, Hardesty. If you wish to offend Society by forming a very public liaison with a woman who was involved in a great scandal, that is your affair.”

  “You’re right.” Adam released Caroline and started across the room toward Ivybridge. “It is my affair. And there is another aspect of this situation that you would do well to bear in mind.”

  Ivybridge gripped the back of the chair. “What do you mean?”

  “Miss Connor is not only a very close friend, but I am hoping that in due time she will consider accepting a proposal of marriage from me.”

  Ivybridge’s heavy jaw dropped. Adam heard Caroline utter a tiny squeak of astonishment. It amused him that no one else in the room seemed the least bit amazed by his announcement.

  He halted in front of Ivybridge. “I’m sure you can guess how extremely annoyed I would be if Miss Connor were to be embarrassed in any way by gossip concerning the events in Chillingham.”

  “How dare you threaten me, sir?” Ivybridge blurted.

  “I would be so annoyed, in fact, that I would not hesitate to disclose your investment in a certain establishment in Marbury Street to every intrepid newspaper correspondent in town.”

  Shock glazed Ivybridge’s face. “I have no notion of what you are talking about.”

  “It is one thing for a gentleman to purchase some discreet entertainment at a brothel, but it is another thing altogether for him to invest in one, isn’t it? Imagine how that will appear to your friends when they read it in the press.”

  “See here, I don’t know what you are implying but I can assure you that you cannot prove anything.”

  Adam spread his hands. “That is the amazing thing about a newspaper sensation, isn’t it? Great damage can be done to a gentleman’s reputation and his standing in Society without going to the bother of supplying hard facts or proof of any kind.” He paused. “But if it eases your mind, rest assured, I shall be able to provide the correspondents with a quantity of evidence.”

  “I have no intention of discussing Miss Connor’s past,” Ivybridge said, clearly shaken. “But what about my wife? She will surely recognize her.”

  “I strongly suggest that she does not recognize her,” Adam said. “If any rumors, even the merest hint of Mrs. Fordyce’s connection to the events in Chillingham of three years ago, happen to reach my ears, I will assume that they originated with you, Ivybridge, and respond accordingly.”

  “You can hardly blame me if someone else recognizes Miss Connor and relates the gossip.”

  “On the contrary, I won’t hesitate to blame you. Not for a moment. I’m sure you can persuade your wife of the wisdom of not spreading gossip over tea.” Adam glanced at the tall clock. “You have five minutes to collect her and depart this house.”

  Dazed, Ivybridge staggered to the door, jerked it open and rushed out into the hall.

  A short silence fell upon the small group left in the library.

  Milly shattered it by whipping open her fan. She gave Adam an approving smile.

  “That was the most entertaining sight that I have seen in ages, sir,” she said. “Thank you for rounding off a most enjoyable evening with such a pleasant farce.”

  Emma took a step forward and halted. “Do you really have damaging information concerning Ivybridge’s investment in a brothel?”

  It was Wilson who answered. He chuckled. “You may depend upon it, madam. Adam knows everyone’s secrets in Society.”

  “I certainly don’t regret cutting him off our guest list,” Richard said. He took Julia’s arm and went toward the door. “He was on it only because his father and mine were old acquaintances. But as it happens, both of those gentlemen are dead. I see no need to pursue the connection, do you, my dear?”

  “Not at all,” Julia said.

  “Come, we must return to our guests.” Richard paused at the door and grinned at Adam. “By the way, allow me to wish you good luck with your wedding plans, Hardesty. About time you tied the knot. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

  Adam inclined his head. “Thank you for pointing out my advancing years, Southwood.”

  “Think nothing of it. Felt it was my responsibility as your brother-in-law.” He whisked a laughing Julia out the door.

  “Let me echo Southwood’s sentiments on the subject of your marriage plans, Adam.” Wilson gave Caroline a gratified smile. “Excellent choice of bride, I might add. She’ll fit right into the family.”

  Milly fanned herself happily. “This is so romantic.”

  Emma’s brows came together in a severe line. “Are you serious in your intentions toward my niece, Mr. Hardesty? Or was the subject of marriage mentioned solely to intimidate Ivybridge?”

  “Of course he is serious.” Wilson took Emma’s arm in one hand, grasped Milly’s in the other and headed toward the door. “Adam has rules when it comes to dealing with a lady. Trust me, he would not have mentioned the subject of marriage unless he was very serious indeed.”

  The threesome disappeared through the doorway.

  Adam found himself alone with Caroline.

  “Adam.”

  She ran to him and threw herself in
to his arms, holding him so tightly that he hoped she would never let go. He put his arms around her, savoring the vibrant, feminine warmth and feel of her.

  “I cannot believe what you and your family just did,” she whispered.

  He smiled into her hair. She did not know the half of it, he thought. The mild threats that had sent Ivybridge running from the room were the least of it. Over the course of the next few months the real justice would be delivered. Ivybridge would slowly but surely discover that he was no longer on the guest lists of some of Society’s most important hostesses. He would be left out of certain private investment consortiums. He would no longer be welcome in certain clubs. In the end he would pay, and pay dearly, for what he had done to Caroline. But there was no need to burden her with the details.

  “It was little enough, given what he put you through,” he said aloud.

  “I appreciate your feelings.” She raised her head and stepped back reluctantly. “Unfortunately, in your desire to quell Ivybridge, I fear that you took matters a step too far.”

  “Damn. I find it so annoying when that happens.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  He was obviously not giving the situation the serious attention it required. Perhaps he had not yet thought through the implications.

  “This is not amusing, Adam,” she said reproachfully. “Your family knows how you are about your rules.”

  He inclined his head. “True.”

  “After what you just said to Ivybridge, they will no doubt expect us to become engaged. Really, sir, what were you thinking?”

  “Apparently I was thinking of marriage.” He crossed the room to the brandy table and picked up the decanter. Light sparkled on the cut crystal facets when he tipped the bottle over a glass. “Everyone else, with the glaring exception of Ivybridge, seems to feel that we would make an excellent match.” He paused, holding the glittering decanter aloft. “Would you care for a brandy?”

  “No, thank you. One of us must remain clearheaded here.”

  “Better you than me.” He drank a large measure of the brandy.

  She whirled and began to pace the long room, struggling to pull her chaotic emotions into some sort of order.

  “Please do not misunderstand me,” she said quickly. “I am deeply indebted to you for the manner in which you dealt with Ivybridge. Indeed, I do not know how I shall ever be able to repay you.”

  For the first time since Ivybridge had departed the library, Adam appeared displeased. “There is no need to repay me,” he said, a chill in his words. “You owe me nothing. I am the one who is indebted to you for providing me with an alibi for the murder of Irene Toller.”

  “Nonsense. I merely told the truth.”

  He shrugged. “I did the same just now.”

  “But you told Ivybridge that you planned to offer marriage.”

  “Yes, I did, didn’t I?”

  She sighed. “I realize that it was all part of your brilliant plan to intimidate him. And I do not doubt that he will certainly think twice before spreading gossip about the mysterious Mr. Hardesty’s intended bride. But you did not have to go that far. Surely you can see that. He was already trembling in his shoes after you brought up his connection to that brothel.”

  Adam swallowed more brandy, looking pensive. “Thank you. The subject of his connection to that establishment was rather effective, wasn’t it?”

  “It was a very clever piece of strategy.” She stopped at the far end of the room and gestured wildly with her folded fan. “But then everything you do is generally clever and well-planned. So why on earth did you feel compelled to say that you intended to ask me to marry you?”

  He angled himself onto the corner of the desk and drank some more brandy while he considered the question.

  “Probably because that is precisely what I intend to do,” he said.

  She felt as though she had been glued to the floor. She could not have moved if someone had yelled “Fire.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said, suddenly light-headed. “I thought our affair was going rather well.”

  “A matter of opinion, I’m afraid.”

  Her spirits plummeted. “Oh. I see. I didn’t realize that you were not . . . That is to say, I . . . Well, I suppose my lack of prior experience has turned out to be something of a disappointment to you. But I assure you, I am a fast learner.”

  He gave her his most enigmatic look. “Tell me the truth, Caroline. Are you merely using me as your writer’s muse?”

  She was horrified. “No, no, of course not.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I am not just a plaything for you, then?”

  She felt herself turn very hot. Her face was probably as red as her gown. “How can you even suggest such a thing?”

  “If I am more to you than just a toy or a useful muse, why are you so reluctant to speak of marriage?”

  Because you do not seem to be able to tell me that you are madly, wildly, passionately in love with me, she thought. But she could hardly say that out loud.

  “Well—” She broke off, trying to come up with a reason that would appeal to the logical side of his nature. “Time is a factor, sir. I’m sure you will agree that it is much too soon to discuss the subject. After all, we have been acquainted for only a matter of a few days.”

  “But we do appear to be well suited. Everyone else certainly seems to believe that to be the case.”

  Well suited. Hardly a declaration of undying love.

  She cleared her throat, steadying her nerves. “Exactly how are we well suited?”

  He gave her a slow, sensual smile. “You know my secrets and I know yours.”

  That stopped her for a few heartbeats but she managed to cling to a few wispy tendrils of logic.

  “Yes, well, that may be true,” she allowed. “But do you think that constitutes sufficient grounds for marriage?”

  “In this particular instance it does, at least as far as I am concerned.” He put down the brandy glass and came up off the desk. “But rest assured there are other ways in which we are well suited.”

  Her brain went utterly blank. “Such as?”

  He walked toward her, looking dangerous indeed, with his darkly bruised eye and grimly determined expression.

  “This way, for example,” he whispered.

  He put his powerful hands very gently around her bare throat and tilted her head slightly for his kiss.

  A shiver of excitement coursed through her. This was no doubt the path to disaster, she reminded herself. If she wanted to retain any degree of common sense she would turn away from him right now, this very minute, before his mouth touched hers.

  But she could not seem to get unstuck from the floor. And then it was much too late because he was kissing her in a slow, searing way that melted everything inside her and set fire to her blood.

  She did not want to think about his businesslike suggestion of marriage. Instead, she wanted to concentrate on the way she felt when he took her in his arms.

  His tongue slid along the edge of her mouth and ever so slightly between her lips. She leaned heavily against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. The thrilling heat and strength of his body enveloped her.

  He deepened the kiss, drawing it out until she was clinging to him.

  The knowledge that he wanted her so intensely gave her courage and hope. She understood his wariness. He had taught himself to survive first on the streets and then in a glittering, superficial world where love was treated, at best, with amused disdain. He had learned his lessons well and established his own rules. It was only to be expected that he would be deeply cautious.

  She was taking a risk, she thought. But Adam was worth it.

  A discreet knock sounded on the door.

  Adam raised his head, frowning slightly. “It must be Morton, and that means that it will be important. Excuse me, my dear.”

  He crossed to the door and opened it. Caroline saw the formidable butl
er in the corridor. Morton was very careful not to look at her. She heard him speak to Adam in low, serious-sounding tones. Adam gave some crisp directions in response.

  When he turned back to her and closed the door, she knew at once that something had happened. All the sensual satisfaction had vanished from his expression. It had been replaced by the concentrated attention of the hunter.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Morton brought me a message from an old friend of mine named Florence Stotley. Thanks to her I now have an address for Irene Toller’s missing assistant, Bess Whaley. I must leave at once.”

  “You are going to see Bess tonight?”

  “Yes.” He shrugged out of his jacket. “I do not want to take the risk of losing her again. Morton is bringing me another jacket and a pair of boots.”

  “I think I should go with you to speak with the assistant.”

  “There is no need for that. The address I was given is not in the best part of town.”

  “Bess obviously fled for a reason. She will likely panic when she finds you at her door at this hour. Perhaps my presence will reassure her.”

  He hesitated and then nodded abruptly. “Very well. I will send for your wrap.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  The neighborhood where Bess Whaley had sought to hide was not in the stews, but neither was it a comfortable place at this hour of the night. Adam instructed Ned to halt the carriage in the street some distance from the address he sought. He did not want to risk waking Whaley prematurely with the rattle of wheels and hooves.

  “You understand what I want you to do?” he said to Ned, assisting Caroline down from the carriage.

  “Aye, sir.”

  Adam looked at Caroline. “Are you sure you want to come with me?”

  “We have been through this often enough, Adam. I am coming with you.” She bent down to make certain the long skirts of her gown were hooked up and securely fastened.

  He smiled slightly, admiration welling up inside him. Caroline’s spirit drew him the way expensive perfume might draw another man. Which was not to say that she did not also possess a most unique and delightful fragrance, he thought, amused by his own bemusement.