Three Nights with a Scoundrel (Stud Club #3)

“It’s so tragic,” she said after several minutes. “And so horribly, horribly wrong. You’re right, the senselessness is the hardest thing to accept. But it’s some comfort to have answers at last.”


Yes, Julian silently agreed. Yes, that was some comfort.

She sat up straight and said to Faraday, “Those men were vermin. Villains. The Devil’s own spawn. You mustn’t blame yourself for what they did. I don’t blame you, and neither does Julian.”

Faraday looked to Julian, eyebrows rising in unspoken question. Don’t you?

He shook his head. “See here, I’ve only just stopped blaming myself.”

“Yes. About that …” Faraday leaned close. “You do understand, it was my assignment to investigate all the club members thoroughly.”

Julian narrowed his eyes at him. “How much do you know?”

“Everything.”

“Who else knows?”

“No one.” Faraday’s voice was firm. “I didn’t include it in my report. But no one’s out for you. If someone were, I would know it. What’s more, I would take care of it. You were a good friend to Leo.” His gaze slid to Lily. “And you, my dear. Even though we’ve only just met, I can’t help but think of you as a sister.”

Lily gave him a tearful smile. “I’ve missed having a brother.”

“Well, now. That’s an unexpectedly lovely end to this day.” Clearing the emotion from his throat, Faraday shot a glance out the window. “We’re coming up on Charing Cross. I’ll get out there. After today’s events, I’ll need to see to some paperwork.”

He signaled to the driver with a rap on the carriage roof. As the coach slowed to a halt, he rose from his seat. “Oh, yes,” he added, pausing in the open door. “Do send my regards to Lady Claudia, and kindly send me word of how it goes. I’ve grown quite fond of that girl.”

And then he was gone, having disappeared into the crowd. The man was rather good at that—disappearing.

The carriage thrust into motion again, and Julian let his head fall back against the tufted leather. What a day. He had answers to Leo’s murder. He had the assurance that no one was trying to kill him.

He turned his head, letting his gaze slide to his wife. Fading daylight gilded her delicate profile. A dark tendril of hair caressed her pale cheek.

And he had her. Beautiful, generous, brave, intelligent Lily. His dearest friend. The mother of his child. How could he ever want for more? Tenderness unfurled in his chest as he reached for her, brushing the lock aside. She turned to him, her eyes dark and sweet.

“Let’s go home,” he signed, before reaching to draw her close.

“No.” With a firm touch, she pushed him away. “No, Julian. I can’t go home with you.”

Chapter Twenty-five

“What?”

Julian’s shock was evident. It was so evident, Lily found it mildly annoying. How could he fail to understand what he’d put her through today?

Transferring to the opposite seat, she said, “I can’t go home with you and just pretend that nothing’s happened. Only to wake up to another tragic letter the next time you’ve decided your unstarched cuffs make you unworthy of me, and thus you’ve exiled yourself to the Arctic Circle.” She tried to mimic a gruff, masculine voice. “‘Farewell, Lily. You must be strong.’”

All the pain and betrayal of the early morning caught up with her, smothering her like a wave. She fought through tears to continue speaking. “You abandoned me, Julian. You lied to me, withheld information that I had a right to know. I was so desperately afraid. And now I’m furious at you for making me feel that way. Why does Peter Faraday know more about your life than I do? Why didn’t you tell me about him in the first place, let me know he was in London? If I’d known of his role in Leo’s attack, we might have pieced together the truth months ago.”

“Yes, but … you were keeping secrets, too,” he replied. “You might have told me Leo had a lover.”

“I did. Or at least, I asked you if he had someone special, that night of the play. When you made it clear you knew nothing …” She shrugged. “It wasn’t my secret to divulge. If Leo had wanted you to know, he would have told you.” She paused to calm herself and take a deep breath. “And then this morning, Julian. Really. You left me with a letter.”

“A letter that said how much I love you. How dearly I hoped to fix this madness and come home to you.”

“A letter that tells me I don’t even know the half of your life,” she countered. “A letter that says you’re unworthy of me.”

“Lily …” He threw up his hands in frustration. Then blew out a breath and began again. “The thing of it is, I just am. But I’m determined to make myself worthy. I promise you, I will devote my life to making you happy. You are everything to me.”

“I don’t want to be your everything!”