Lady Lilias and the Devil in Plaid - Julie Johnstone Page 0,42

how hard some women can be to control.”

No, he wouldn’t. He knew Lilias and how independent she was. “Surely they don’t go alone?”

“I go when I can, but take tonight, for example… I had an engagement to attend, so Lady Lilias went down to Satan’s Den on a search and rescue mission without me.”

“Satan’s Den?” Nash couldn’t breathe. It was one of the oldest, most notorious gambling and pleasure dens in one of the most notorious rookeries, St. Giles. “You cannot be serious. You cannot be sitting here telling me that you allowed Lady Lilias to go to such a dangerous place alone.”

“I cannot control a woman who is not any relation of mine.”

“I’ll kill you if anything has happened to her,” Nash said, rising, losing his grip on his control, which had been rapidly slipping. He was already considering the quickest way to get to the rookery.

“Nothing happened,” Carrington said.

“How would you know?” Nash roared.

Carrington studied Nash for a long, silent minute. “She sent word that all went well before I came here. Mission accomplished. But it’s interesting to hear that ye would wish to kill me if she was injured.”

Nash slumped down into his chair. He’d been played by Carrington. He finished the last bit of his drink and stared at Carrington, waiting to hear what the man had really come here to say.

His friend’s gaze softened in understanding and pity. “Ye should tell her how ye feel about her.”

“No.” There was really no point denying it now. “She is betrothed to my friend, and regardless of what your wife might think”—whatever excuse for her betrothal his mind tried to torture him with—“I’ve reason enough to believe she wants to be.” Nash had bloody well practically orchestrated the deed, though he’d not been behind her being ruined. That had been chance. Though, what if she’d not been found on the terrace kissing Owen? Would she still have accepted his offer?

Yes, you bloody fool.

She’d been the one to kiss Owen, after all. Owen had told him so.

“I’ll tell ye from personal experience that what we men believe a woman is thinking and feeling is rarely correct. They are wonderfully mysterious.”

“Lilias is not my mystery to solve. She is Owen’s.” Carrington looked as if he wanted to protest so Nash played the only card he could to ensure the man did not interfere. “I want my life debt, and I want it in the form of you not telling your wife what it is you think you know about how I feel. I feel nothing.” That was the second time he’d claimed those exact three words in his life. When he’d written them to Lilias, he had meant he felt empty when she was not near him. He meant the same thing now.

“Ye—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Nash said, wagging his finger at his friend. “No questions. No arguments. Only compliance. That is the heart of a life debt, yes?”

Carrington’s eyes drew to slits. “Aye. Damn it. My wife will likely sleep in another bedchamber for at least a sennight when I refuse to speak of tonight.”

Nash rose. He had to get away from his friend before Carrington tried to change Nash’s mind. “I’m certain you’ll work it out.” He pushed his chair back and paused, considering the problem of Lilias and the missions. “SLAR?” he asked, pitching his voice low. “You said it was a secret society?”

Carrington nodded.

Nash could not stand by and do nothing, say nothing, while Lilias went on dangerous missions. “Do you think Owen knows about the society?”

Carrington shook his head. “I know he does not. Only husbands are supposed to know, and I just broke my vow telling ye.”

“You have to tell him,” Nash bit out.

“Sorry, my friend. I’m doubting myself now that I told ye. Ye I trust to keep this secret. I do not know Owen well enough to say he will do the same, and Guin would kill me.”

Nash nodded. He’d have to tell Owen tonight, but think of a way not to implicate Carrington. The thought of any harm coming to Lilias chilled Nash.

Guinevere scrambled to her knees when the door to her and Asher’s bedchamber opened and Asher strode in. “Well?” she said excitedly. “Did you find him?”

“Aye.” Asher sat on the bed, and Guinevere scooted up behind her husband and slipped her arms around his waist. “Did you tell him of Lilias’s dangerous missions but not tell him how we always have Merckle following out of sight but close behind?” Guinevere