Page 9 of Wicked with Him

Roman cocked his head, listening hard. “Was that George?”

“Indeed. There he goes, compounding his sins with a public tantrum, too,” Stratford warned. “Why my father ever puts up with the man, I’ll never understand.”

Indeed, the duke was known to prefer his nephew’s company to that of his four grown sons. Roman could not understand that at all. “Maybe this will end his favoritism.”

“I doubt it. Father will approve of his rage, punish Amity, and keep us all dancing to his tune until he turns up his toes,” Stratford warned, pantomiming puppets dancing on invisible strings. “We’d better go before George really starts getting belligerent and shoots indiscriminately at the guests.”

Roman grimaced and glanced around. “Does he not remember he doesn’t live here?”

“That’s what makes him so pathetic. Shall we?”

Stratford slapped his back and moved Roman along with all the other guests who seemed to have decided to leave the ball, too. Or they might be moving in for a closer look at the commotion.

Roman didn’t resist going with the flow of the crowd, since leaving was exactly what he should be doing by now. He still looked for Amity through the open library doors, though didn’t catch sight of her there. He assumed she’d been spirited away somewhere far from prying eyes to be interrogated.

For a time, they were stuck in the entrance hall, along with everyone else waiting upon carriages. He looked up and spotted George Sweet glowering at everyone from an upper-floor landing, encircled by elder members of the extended Sweet family. Of Amity, there was no sign.

Finally, servants eased everyone toward the front doors with whispered apologies for the untimely end of the evening’s festivities. Roman glanced up one more time before he crossed the threshold, his eyes catching George’s briefly. His adversary looked utterly unhinged by tonight’s events, and Roman felt immense satisfaction, quickly followed by a pang of unease.

What if Fairbridge had not intervened, separating brother and sister when he had? What if Amity was being taken home to await punishment at the hands of such a brute tonight behind closed doors? He was worried about her enough now to consider turning around and doing something rash…and potentially dangerous to his freedom.

He considered owning up.

But Roman was pushed outside, where confusion reigned. Servants struggled to get guests into the right carriages. Roman was pushed forward into one, but when he got inside and lifted his head, he discovered it not to be his. And the Duke of Ravenswood’s eldest son was currently in it.

“Begging your pardon, Fairbridge,” Roman mumbled, rising to leave again to await his own. “Wrong carriage.”

“Sit down, Crawford,” Fairbridge drawled. “I’d rather you than my brother, any day.”

The carriage took off, leaving Stratford Sweet behind on the pavement, shaking his fist after them. Roman winced and waved and finally looked around. He almost groaned out loud.

Amity was sitting beside him.

He nodded to her, a woman of scandal now. His lovely secret lover. The beauty who had graced his cock so sweetly a short time ago. “Miss Sweet.”

“Mr. Crawford,” she murmured, raising her chin high and thus revealing the love bite on her neck. The one he’d given her on purpose in the dark under those stairs.

His lips twitched at her proud bearing, but then he quickly schooled his features, lest Fairbridge see his amusement and wondered about it. He glanced at the earl again. “Good of you to take me on. It will save me some time waiting for my own carriage to be found in that hellish crush.”

Fairbridge’s lips were pressed tight together, and he said nothing in return.

Roman glanced sideways at Amity again in hopes of conveying support and concern for her plight, but she was studying the view out the window as if it were the most fascinating sight in the world. He had to wonder if Amity had any regrets now.

He hoped not, because he did not.

When she didn’t look his way again, Roman sighed and studied his fingertips until Fairbridge tapped on the roof and gave the coachman instructions to stop. “Well, get out.”

Roman nodded to Amity and to the earl, and then climbed out as fast as he could without another word. Worried still for what might happen to Amity later, he considered asking where she was being taken.

But the carriage drove off before he could, turned the corner, and vanished into the dark London night. Roman cursed, and he then looked around properly, quickly discovering his mistake. Fairbridge had left him on the wrong street.

Chapter 4

Amity scowled as the carriage drew away from Roman. “I don’t believe Mr. Crawford lives here.”

“Doesn’t he?” Fairbridge replied with a negligent shrug, his eyes boring into hers.

“No, I heard he resides at the Albany Apartments at present. That is in the other direction, cousin.”