Chapter Six

The next day ~ Theodosia's Garden Party

Selena latched onto her prey and marched straight toward the person her gaze had fixed upon. While her and Warrick's little adventure to the "doctor" had provided her some amusement, the consequences had led to a kiss! Did her friend realize what influence that had on her sleep?

Of course not!

"Theodosia!"

"Ah, Selena, you've arrived."

Selena grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her off to the side so that they were out of earshot of the rest of the attendees. "Have you gone mad? Sending us to that doctor's house! You knew very well the earl is not sick."

Theodosia laughed. "I see your visit had the intended effect. Aren't you happy? You got back at Warrick for all the trouble he's caused."

Yes, then he got her back in a much more striking way. A kiss which had kept Selena up all night. What sort of man mutters hell if I know and then kisses a woman? What sort of woman enjoys it before realizing she shouldn't and then ends the kiss with a bite? Though, quite frankly, it had been thoroughly satisfying.

But now, she was stuck with the knowledge that a real kiss from Warrick was even better than a dream kiss from Warrick!

However, the true problem wasn't so much the kiss itself but rather that it had come so naturally to accept his kiss. Perhaps because he had kissed her in her dreams already. She couldn't rightly say.

"Who is that doctor anyway?" Selena asked. "He said his niece mentioned us. That is you, isn't it?"

Theodosia waved a dismissive hand. "He is a distant relative. A bit of a hermit. Everyone finds him strange, so they just avoid him."

"I see crazy is a family trait of yours."

"Everyone has odd relatives, I'm sure. Our family just has a bit more than our fair share." Theodosia waved at Leonora, who stepped onto the lawn. "Was the earl very angry?"

"Yes." But he was also hungry and hungover.

"One a scale of one to ten, how much did his temper flare?"

"I'm not sure." How annoyed must a man be to kiss someone out of vexation? Selena couldn't even begin to measure that. "I cannot say it was high, but it certainly wasn't low. Rather average, I suppose then."

"That's a bit disappointing."

Selena shrugged. "He must still be rather put out, since he didn't join my brother for breakfast today."

"He shall get over the matter soon enough."

Yes, but she didn't want him to avoid her. That was inexpedient for their arrangement, was it not? He hadn't even handed the note from the manufacturer over to her in person. He sent that red-haired footman.

While Selena found this half amusing, she also felt a bit bad for the earl. She didn't mean to have fun at his expense. Perhaps she should send him a gift? Maybe a box of tea. Was there one that promoted health and good hair growth? He seemed to have a preoccupation with his hair.

"Oh, and happy birthday. I had a maid send your gift up to your chamber."

"Oh?" Theodosia's gaze lit up with interest. "Why not hand it to me personally?"

"Well, it's not appropriate to hand it over in public."

Theodosia's eyes widened. "What scandalous present did you get me?"

Oh, nothing much. "A book."

Theodosia's smile slipped. "Not a big, journal-like book?"

"Yes, exactly so. The very one you've always wanted, in fact."

Her friend pulled a face. "Forgive me if I don't thank you for this present."

"No thanks are needed. You having this book kindles such relief in my heart, and that is enough for me." She sighed contentedly before changing the subject. "By the by"—she rummaged through her reticule to retrieve the note Warrick procured and handed it to Theodosia—"do you recognize this handwriting?"

Theodosia scrutinized the neat, impeccable script. "I cannot say that I do. Most women have pretty penmanship."

"Not me."

"I said most." Theodosia handed the scrap of paper back. "This was written by one of the club members, I presume?"

"I believe so," Selena said. "But it's a dead end. Warrick was right. There's no way to figure out whose handwriting this is without comparing it to the handwriting of every woman in polite society."

"They might not be from polite society," Theodosia said with a thoughtful tap on her chin.

"Now that would be shocking."

"Would you still join them if they are not?"

Selena shrugged. "That would depend on what they are about." Of course, she knew no person or club could give her the meaning she sought, but it would bring her a step closer to finding her identity within this world.

"Good. Motive is everything."

There is nothing wrong with your name or title.

She froze. Why would those words come and haunt her now? Of course, Warrick wouldn't understand her plight. Not completely. Perhaps it was simpler for men. They had the most advantages in the world, didn't they? They didn't have to worry about things like meaning. Why yearn for more if you already have it all?

So, she would find the club, ask the members why they hadn't invited her. If she had the chance, she would join. Then she would forge an identity that would move her beyond the shadow of her brother.

Hermotives were pure.

A certain kiss came suddenly to mind.

Selena ruthlessly pushed the picture from her mind. Kissing her to shut her up. What kind of motive was that? And that mocking tone afterward. The man had a way to set her teeth on edge with his choices.

"Selena! Theodosia!" Lady Leonora sauntered over to them and exclaimed excitedly, "An only women tea party! How novel. Even the servers are all women."

"That's the point," Theodosia said with a smile. "All the male servants have been dismissed for today as well."

"You father is quite lenient," Leonora murmured.

"He's been dismissed as well."

Selena laughed along with Leonora.

"Well, you are certainly not shying away from the gossip sheets." Lady Harriet, recently wed to the Marquess of Leeds, joined them. "Your name shall be sprawled across the paper tomorrow. It is quite refreshing indeed. Who knows, perhaps soon we'll see men dismissed party after party."

Theodosia grinned. "I'm surprised your husband allowed you attend without him."

"Oh, he is skulking in the carriage with a book," Harriet said drily.

Selena laughed. Leeds was obsessed with his wife, especially when it came to matters of safety, though this could hardly be considered a risky event. "I am not surprised."

"I wish I could snatch a protective husband such as Leeds," Leonora said. "It's enough to make one's heart flutter."

Selena's snort followed Theodosia's.

"You don't agree?" Leonora asked. "Do you not want to find husbands?"

"It's not that I don't want a husband," Selena said. "It's just that I'm not looking for one. I shall find myself first and then find a husband."

Harriet nodded. "I quite understand. Your entry on the heiress list claimed both your best and worst attribute to be your brother. If that is not depressing, I don't know what is."

"Exactly."

"Those entries don't carry much meaning, do they?" Leonora asked. "Given your brother's temper, it's only natural that his friends wouldn't want to provoke it by saying anything more specific."

True...Warrick had alluded to that much as well.

"I agree," Harriet said. "Besides, my husband adores my laughter and that was my biggest flaw, as you recall."

"Well, I for one, can tell you that Saville is a fire-breathing dragon," Theodosia muttered. "He is also the reason I decided to host a female only tea party. Do try the punch. It has a delightful kick."

Leonora lifted her glass. "I can attest to that." She glanced at Selena. "If what those rascals said about you bothers you so much, just ask another man's opinion."

Selena accepted a glass of punch from a passing server. "I'd rather not. They leave a rather sour taste in my mouth these days." She took a sip. Sweet. "Let's change the topic, shall we? I've had enough of wagers, lists, and the opinions of men."

"Fair enough," Theodosia said, clinking glasses with her. "Why don't you ask if anyone here has received an invitation?"

"Oh, right, has any of you been invited to a secret women's club?" If they had, she would know for certain that this club was toying with her.

"No," Harriet said.

Leonora shook her head.

"Apparently none of us meet their requirements, whatever they are." Selena took another sip of punch. Still the only leads they had were the note, the crest, and the trousers.

"And you wish to receive an invitation?" Harriet guessed.

Selena nodded.

"How brave," Harriet responded. "Leeds would explode if he found out I joined a secret organization. I shall tease him to death if I receive such an invitation."

"Your husband is the type that would lock you in a tower and toss away the key," Selena said.

"Tease and run," Theodosia suggested.

"Tease and run..." Harriet bit her lip in thought. "I shall have to try it."

"Don't take Theo's bad advice, Harriet," Selena said. "Your husband has long legs. Be sure you can outrun him before you start teasing."

"And run far way," Leonora supplied with a chuckle. To Selena, she said, "Perhaps these women are still observing you and everyone on the list."

"Or," Theodosia said slyly, "perhaps they are a bunch of old crones having fun." She nudged Selena with her shoulder. "You'd have to wait a few years to qualify."

Selena rolled her eyes. "It's not always the destination that matters, rather than the journey there."

"So long as you know what you want," Theodosia said with a small smile.

"I wish I could be more like you in that regard." Selena swallowed another sip, surveying the women bustling about the garden. "I shall figure out what I want along the way."

"I, for one, can absolutely relate," Leonora said. "The future is uncertain and all we can do is seize all moments as they come."

"Didn't you want a protective husband like Leeds a moment ago?" Theodosia arched a brow lined with amusement.

"Well, that's but one character trait, and it's optional. Then again, is it? Should it be mandatory? What other traits do I want in a man? I'm so indecisive."

Selena laughed.

Unable to decide what she wanted—she could certainly relate to that. What did she hope to gain by finding or even joining this club? Was it that important? What traits did she want in a husband? Did she want to marry or not? If not, what happened to her then? If she did, what would happen to her then?

All these questions clamored for answers. But what if she made the wrong choice when she did answer them, when she did choose her path?

What if she lost more than just her identity?

So many decisions . . .

*

Warrick watched asSaville peeked through the window of the carriage stationed outside Lady Theodosia's house. He should never have been swayed by his friend, who had lured him out of the house on the pretense of visiting Tattersalls.

Crazy fool.

Instead, he found himself in the one place he did not want to be—once again following Selena Savage. These siblings really knew how to rile a man.

But enough was enough.

Yes, he had his portion of blame to share when it came down to that deuced heiress list, but that didn't mean he had to pay for it with his sanity. It also didn't mean he had to spend his entire life atoning for it. They had all made a mistake, but what was done was done.

The moment the betting book was stolen from White's, the original record lost, there was no honorable way to fulfil the wagers. Even if the book was retrieved, he would not allow it to come back into play. Either White's ripped those pages out, or he would bloody burn the book until there was nothing left but ashes.

That was if the book was ever found. Warrick had his doubts whether those heiresses would relinquish the thing.

Either way, he was finished. It was time to move on. Selena in his bedroom, Selena dragging him to a charlatan's house, and Selena kissing—no, him kissing Selena had been the eye-opening jolt he sorely needed.

He stared at Saville peering out the window, shaking his head slowly. "After today, your sister is all yours."

"What do you mean?" Saville asked offhandedly, craning his neck to peek down the street when a carriage passed them.

"I'm done with my role of protector to your sister."

"Why?" Saville asked without giving up his view of the street. "We agreed. The women on the list need protecting."

Warrick gave a rare snort, the kind he needed only around the Savages. "If those women need protection, I am the Pope. Whoever approaches them with ill intent, they are the ones in need of protection."

"Have you forgotten what happened to Deerhurst's wife?"

"That was all Cromby. He's been dealt with. Besides, he serves as a useful example to any miscreant who dares follow in his footsteps."

"So, you're saying Selena doesn't require protection."

"I'm saying you can manage your sister all by yourself."

"Lady Theodosia—"

"Has six brothers," Warrick finished for him.

"And where are they? None of them are in London."

Warrick shrugged. "Perhaps word hasn't yet spread to where they are, or perhaps they aren't worried. And if they aren't worried about their sister, then neither should you be."

Saville sent him a look. "Why are you such a grump? Has your family curse claimed more of your hair?"

Warrick scowled. "Blackguard."

"And weren't you the one who heroically stood up for my sister in the cardroom just the other night? Nearly brought me to tears."

"It nearly gave you heart palpitations. Take care or that temper of yours or it will send you to an early grave." Lord knows, they could all use a reprieve from it.

Saville tapped the window with the tip of his finger. "I lost my temper at the Ashworth ball, I'll admit, but you were still going on about how you were the guardian and so on and so forth."

"I've changed my mind."

"Just like that? Did my sister get your hackles up again? What did she do now?"

Warrick looked away. He chose not to answer that, lest his friend's temper explode in this terribly confided space.

Saville chuckled. "Fine, do as you wish. After today, I won't force your hand."

That was easy. Almost too easy. But he wasn't about to question this boon. "Thank you."

Saville diverted his attention back to the window. "This is ridiculous," he muttered. "Why the devil would she host a tea party and not invite any men?'

Warrick's brow inched upward. "That is what you find ridiculous?"

"Why? Don't you?"

"I find it more ridiculous that we are hiding in a carriage peeking at a lady's house."

"You are right," Saville sneered. "Men should not hide in carriages. We are better than that."

Are we?Warrick had his doubts.

"We should be in there, in the thick of things." Saville squared his shoulders and adjusted his cravat. "Come on, let's go."

Warrick massaged his temples. Another habit he developed when with a Savage. "Go where?"

"Staying in the carriage is getting us nowhere. We should slip into the house and spy from a room that gives us a view of the party."

God above. "No. Absolutely not."

"Why?"

Because I am avoiding your sister.Because if he entered that house... he might falter.

Again.

But he couldn't tell his friend that. Not without getting into the why he was avoiding her. And what Warrick didn't have was answers for his friend. Saville and Selena might bicker constantly, but when it came to his sister, Saville threw punches first and asked for explanations second. And if he didn't like the explanation...

What could he even say?

I'm helping your sister find a secret club. Oh, and she entered my bedchamber alone while I was sleeping off a night of drink. Forgive me for yanking her onto me. I also kissed her.

No.

Warrick would rather not stare down the barrel of a forced marriage that would ensure both parties a miserable outcome.

"Why the devil do you want to spy on a gaggle of females, anyhow?"

"What's with you lately?" Saville countered. "Did Selena curse your existence? Throw kitchenware at you? Cut up your favorite waistcoats?"

"Of course not. I'm not you."

Saville's glare spoke volumes. "I'm choosing not to respond to that."

"So you can choose not to respond to something. Well, if you make this choice more often, I doubt your existence will be cursed, you will have kitchenware tossed at you, or your waistcoats will be cut up."

"Why, thank you for your sage advice."

"I live to impart sage advice to my friends."

"You really have a singular talent for vexing me." Saville slouched back into his seat. "Fine, the reason I'm snooping today is not to spy but because it's Lady Theodosia's birthday." He motioned to the package beside him. "I wish to give her a gift."

"Drop it off at the door."

"This is no ordinary birthday gift," Saville said. "It serves as an apology gift as well.

This caught his attention. "What did you do?"

Saville gave an exaggerated sigh. "We might have had some words at the card game. By the by, have you seen this crest?" Saville handed him a slip of paper he retrieved from his pocket.

Warrick studied the sword entwined with roses. "What is this?"

"An organization of some sort operating in the shadows. Mortimer asked me to keep an eye out for it."

Warrick froze.

Why did that sound so familiar? What was it with these Savages and shadowy organizations?

"Isn't Mortimer searching for the betting book?" And now this?

Saville opened the carriage door and jumped out. "So far as I know, yes."

Warrick studied the drawing, brows furrowing. "What else did he say?"

"Can't recall. Why? Do you recognize it?"

"No." But a suspicion formed in his mind. What were the chances there were two secret organizations that two people connected to the betting book were searching for? And if his suspicion was correct, why was the duke searching for a club run by women? No matter how Warrick looked at it, this did not bode well for anyone.

He handed the slip back to Saville. "The design is not particularly original." This had nothing to do with him, he reminded himself.

I'm done.

Saville nodded. "Are you joining?"

Warrick clenched his fists.

I'm done.

She was Saville's sister. He'd known her since she was a little girl. Some lines should never be crossed when it came to your friends. Some lines, when you crossed them, served as a gateway to crossing more lines. She had crossed a line when she'd entered his chamber. He had crossed a line when he'd kissed her.

He might cross a line again. She might too. What would they be then? Just two people recklessly and endlessly crossing lines back and forth?

"Well?" Saville pressed.

Warrick pinched the bridge of his nose. If he didn't want Saville to kill him, he had to stay as far away from Selena Savage as possible. But if his suspicions were correct and the crest belonged to Selena's club... could he stand back and watch whatever catastrophe was bound to happen? Though, if he were wrong...

Let me be wrong.

"I'll come." Warrick exited the carriage to follow his friend. "But I'm not setting foot in that garden."

"Wouldn't want to you to, old friend. I'm merely dropping off a gift in person, that's all."

They hadn't taken three steps when a man said, "I was wondering how long the two of you would hold out."

Warrick followed Saville's gaze to another man stepping from a coach a few yards beyond theirs. He nodded "Leeds."

Leeds inclined his head toward them. "Are you heading inside?"

"Figured the house is bigger than the carriage," Saville remarked.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Leeds asked. "My carriage is quite cramped as well."

Saville grinned. "The more the merrier."

"No more than quarter of an hour," Warrick warned his friend. "Then we leave for Tattersalls."

"Deal."

Should he have known better to make a deal with the devil?

Probably.