A Matter of Circumstance and Celludrones (10 page)

“Ana will be with you.”

Celludrones didn’t qualify as chaperones. She’d told him as much
yesterday and his slow grin now told her he remembered.
I could return to
Grosvenor Square.
That appealed even less, especially now that she knew the
carnage had been real. And then there was Halver and the housemaids to
consider.

Greyston, on the other hand, was the one person who could protect her.
He was the only person she didn’t have to worry about exposing to any risk he wasn’t
already knee-deep in.

Her chest constricted, making it difficult to breathe, difficult to
swallow. She was being hunted by a woman who’d already killed her once and she
was considering throwing her lot in with a man who could rewind time.

Greyston’s gaze held hers with dark intensity. “Whatever’s up there in
Scotland is waiting for you as well, Lily, not just for me. I’m afraid that if
you stay behind, it will come find you.”

A flame of anger spluttered through her blood. She’d never put a foot
outside the prescribed boundaries of society and her life had tumbled into
chaos anyway. If she was going to be made to pay for her mother’s sins, it was
high time she learnt the full extent of them.

“What time do we depart?” she said. “I’ll meet you at the train
station.”

Chapter Seven

T
he
Great Hall at Euston Square Station was by and large deserted. The Northern
Line was the last train of the evening. Since Edinburgh was the first stop on
the dedicated high-speed track, the coaches were comprised of sleeping cabins
and most of the passengers were settling in.

Greyston, his bags already stowed in one of the cabins he’d reserved,
paced a short path beneath the awning of the outer vestibule at the head of the
platform. He hadn’t insisted on collecting Lily from Harchings House, had
wanted to give her a chance to change her mind. He’d never had to look out for
anyone but himself, let alone a young lady who belonged to a world of
restrictions and compromising positions and ruined reputations, and he didn’t
relish the new responsibility.

Now he regretted his hesitancy. Leaving Lily alone in London felt very
much like leaving her to die.

He stopped pacing as he spotted Neco striding up the length of the
platform. The sturdy strap around his neck disappeared into the black coat he’d
buttoned up to conceal the Foggles hanging at his chest.

“I’ve checked all the compartments, Grey. No one fitting the
description of Lady Ostrich has boarded yet.”

Greyston gave a grunt of satisfaction. He’d spent three laborious
hours calibrating the Foggles to see through a pine branch earlier in the day,
but from there it had only required a small adjustment for the panelled oak
cabin sliding doors. “You didn’t raise any suspicion?”

“I lugged your bag with me along the corridor and pretended to be
lost.”

“Excellent thinking.”

“You told me to act natural and blend in,” Neco said. “My
observational data concludes that when a man is parading the corridors of a
stationary train, there’s a fifteen percent probability he’s using the
amenities or stretching his legs, a three percent probability he’s up to no
good and an eighty-two percent probability he has luggage with him and is
looking for his cabin.”

“Your probability calculations are the next best thing to gut
instinct.” They’d also saved Greyston’s backside more than once. “Care to
venture a guess at the odds of Lady Lily joining us?”

Neco stared at him blankly. “I don’t have enough data to make an
accurate prediction.”

“Ah, yes. Until today, I’ve managed to avoid inviting young, unmarried
ladies to accompany us.”

Movement caught his eye at the main entrance. “Speak of the devil…s,”
he dragged into the plural as Lady Harchings came into view beside Lily and
Ana.

Their porter pushed a trolley stacked to tipping-point with trunks,
portmanteaus
and oversized carpetbags. Trailing the entire party was Lady Harchings’
air-paddler man, William.

He had a very bad feeling about this.

Lily saw him and increased her step in his direction. Lady Harchings
fell behind, seemingly entranced by the last stall being packed up for the
evening. One man stood on the table to untie a banner while another chased
after an automaton puppy that had escaped and was bouncing down the platform
with the occasional mechanical yap.

As soon as Lily reached him, Greyston pulled her around the closest
marble pillar. “Please tell me they aren’t joining us.”

Lily grimaced. “I tried my utmost to persuade her otherwise.”

“Then you’ll just have to try harder.” The last thing he needed was
yet another responsibility, especially one who came with a bad-tempered,
overprotective husband. “You know what kind of danger we may be facing.”

“So does Lady Harchings. That’s where I went wrong,” she sighed. “I
was only trying to make her understand the danger, but the more I explained,
the more insistent she became. She refused to hear that she’d be of little help
if the worst came about.”

Greyston caught sight of the porter pushing the baggage wagon onto the
platform and called out, “Hold it, man.”

“And then I got to thinking,” Lily was saying, mindless of the
interruption, “that perhaps she’d be safer with us anyway. Wouldn’t she? That
is to say, anywhere is safer than London right now, what with Lady Ostrich
running around.”

The porter glanced over his shoulder and Greyston motioned the man to
wait.

“Lily,” he said in a warning tone, turning back to her. She’d managed
to talk herself in circles and do his head in at the same time.

“How delightful.” Lady Harchings popped out from the other side of the
pillar with a wide smile. “We’ve progressed to first name terms. Formality can
be so tedious, especially since we’ve such a long journey ahead of us. You must
call me Evelyn.”

“Greyston.” He slanted his gaze at Lily, wondering how these two
ladies had ever become friends. He decided to put their differences to the
test. “My friends call me Grey.”

“Then Grey it is.”

His gaze returned to Evelyn. “I don’t wish to be rude, but it would be
best if you didn’t travel with us.”

“It most certainly would not be.” Evelyn gave a dismissive laugh.
“Spare a moment’s thought, and you’ll realise it is in everyone’s best interest
that Lily be properly chaperoned.”

“By you?” He raised a brow at her. Evelyn Harchings didn’t have a
conservative bone in that gorgeous body. Her eyes sparkled with fun and
mischief and her wild nature was more often than not one flirtatious comment
away from wild temptation. All admirable qualities, he conceded.

“I
am
a married woman,” she reminded him.

“Has your husband approved your travel plans?”

“My husband,” Evelyn said lightly, “has kicked me out.”

“Evie,” protested Lily, “that’s not entirely true.”

Evelyn looked at her. “He said either William leaves or he does.”

“That’s not kicking you out.”

“Harchings house belongs to Devon and he can live there alone with his
ridiculous ultimatums.”

Her stubborn defiance didn’t surprise Greyston. That she’d taken
William as a lover did, and why else would she be forced to choose? He could’ve
sworn that behind Evelyn’s vibrant character was a passion that would commit
her to a husband once she’d chosen. As inept as he was at reading society
ladies, however, he knew he hadn’t misjudged Lord Harchings.
And when he
comes after his wife, he’ll find me nesting the pair of lovebirds.

He was about to issue an ultimatum of his own when chaos erupted on
the platform. The porter jumped aside with a loud curse and barrelled into
William. Ana swerved out of their way and Neco came rushing forward.

Greyston’s heart stopped dead, then kicked into a pounding beat
against his skull. He jumped in front of Lily, wedging her between his body and
the pillar. Shielding her from whatever danger had found them was instinctive.

He reached behind his back for her, holding onto her arm, reassuring
himself that she was safe. He had her here now, willing to go with him, and he
couldn’t risk her deciding to stay behind with Evelyn if he put his foot down.
I’m
stuck with the whole bloody menagerie.

“What’s happening?” she said urgently.

“Nothing.” He released her, moving forward to get a better view of the
platform. “No one’s here.”

The conductor stuck his head out of the front carriage and blew the
warning whistle. With that, the cause of the trouble streaked from the baggage
wagon and dashed between Evelyn’s skirts.

Greyston steadied her as she stumbled into his arms. The last time he’d
held her had been on the dance floor. She’d roused his blood then, and that was
when they’d kept the prerequisite two feet apart.

“Oh,” she gasped, tiptoeing halfway up his shin to escape the
automaton puppy tangled in her skirts. “Oh! Oh.”

He closed his eyes, enjoying her soft warmth. Even wriggling, her
curves slid along his lean contours in a tantalising dance. Her scent was
summery, with a trace of something spicy, and damned if he didn’t fancy that
too.

Maybe having Evelyn along wouldn’t be that tiresome after all. He was
accustomed to snatching pleasure as he went, more often than not on the run,
and she wouldn’t slow him down, wouldn’t expect or want anything beyond a few
stolen encounters to feed her reckless, daring spirit. They were well matched,
far more so than him and…he slammed that thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of
Lily in that way, even if it was just to consider how unsuited they were.

His gaze drifted to Lily and came up against her direct stare.

She dropped her eyes at once.

Greyston scooped Evelyn clear off the ground and set her down out of
the way. The puppy spun a few times before slowing into a wider, groggy circle.

 
“’Tis been malfunctioning
since the day I got it,” the stall owner grumbled as he stomped up to them,
red-faced and full of apologies.

“It’s no problem at all,” Evelyn assured him.

“Sold the thing twice now, I have, but folks keep returning it and
demanding refunds. Costing me good, decent sales, that’s what.”

“The train’s about to depart,” Greyston said, leaving them to it as he
crossed to where the others waited.

Once William had identified the valises required for the journey,
Greyston charged Neco with helping the porter off-load the rest in the baggage
car. Then he sought out the conductor to arrange passage for his unexpected
companions. The man was just informing him that there was only one extra
sleeping cabin available when the ladies joined him.

“You’ll take the spare cabin,” he told Evelyn, “and William will have
to share with me.” That’s when he saw the fluffy bundle tucked beneath her arm.
“You bought the bloody nuisance?”

“The stall owner was going to crush it beneath his boot,” she said
indignantly. “I’ve always wanted an automaton pet, but Devon would hear none of
it.”

Another surprise, Greyston thought. In his experience, beautiful,
wilful women always got their way.

She looked up at him, fluttering long lashes. “You have no objection,
do you?”

With the imprint of her soft body still stamped in his blood, he was
not above getting one over her estranged husband.

“Given your unhappy situation,” he murmured, cupping a hand beneath
her elbow to assist her over the gap between the platform and the train, “it’s
my privilege to grant your every heart’s desire.”

“I have the comfort of my dearest friend and the pleasure of your
charming company.” She leaned into him ever so slightly as she stepped aboard
and, with a smile and one last flutter of those lashes, turned from him with a
husky, “There’s nothing unhappy whatsoever about my current situation.”

Greyston grinned as he watched her tempting figure disappear into the
shadows. The imminent future looked very promising from where he stood.

Chapter Eight

T
he
train chugged along for about an hour before it shunted onto the high-speed
tracks and from there, the rocking motion smoothed into a streamlined buzz that
whispered through the panelled walls. At this speed, no one would be getting
on, in the usual or irregular manner, until they pulled into Edinburgh.
Greyston sent Neco off with the Foggles to do another sweep of the
compartments. “In case
someone
slipped past while we were distracted at
the station.”

“You mean the ostrich lady, m’lord?” William asked. He was seated at
the furthest end of the bench, twisting his cap in his hands.

“What do you know about Lady Ostrich?”

“Lady Lily described her to us on the way to the station and said we
were to keep vigilant.”

“Did she say why?”

“Only that the lady was dangerous and we mustn’t approach her.” He
shuffled uneasily on the bench. “Lady Eve said the ostrich lady had already
killed once.”

“That’s true.”
Lady Eve?
Greyston seriously considered the
notion of William and Evelyn. The Irish lad was tall, lanky, and there was
definitely something about his look to suggest a devilish streak that might
appeal to Evelyn. “How old are you, William?”

“Almost eighteen, m’lord.”

 
Far too young to be involved
with a married woman, he told himself, ignoring the fact that he had only four
years on the lad. With the life Greyston had led, four years was as good as
ten. He’d almost convinced himself he was doing the lad a favour by taking
Evelyn off his hands when the implication of William’s words suddenly struck
him.

Damn it, Lily.
In the next breath, he damned himself instead.
Ladies prattled about everything and nothing. He should have thought of it
earlier. He pulled his jacket from the top bunk bed, which he’d claimed, and
shrugged into it. “I’m going to stretch my legs.”