Chapter 24

Tristan would have to lock Alex in his room. As soon as he retrieved the boy from his aunt's house where Alex had, apparently, run off to. So said the note Tristan had found on his desk in handwriting not yet matured or neat. Considering Tristan's own handwriting, it might never mature into neatness. Alex's drawings held greater promise. Damning praise, that.

Tristan crumpled the paper and tossed it at the desk where it bounced once and fell to the floor. How long had Alex been gone? No time for hat or gloves or any other nicety. He stomped downstairs, flung open the door, and—

Slammed into Andromeda.

He gripped her upper arms, and she blinked up at him.

"Are you going somewhere?" she asked.

"Yes. Into the lion's den."

"You're going to… the Tower?" She peeked behind him. "Where's Alex?"

"In the lion's den." He spun her and pushed her down the street. "Home with you."

She dug her heels in. "I don't know what's happening, but you can't get rid of me, whatever it is." She grasped his wrists and pushed back.

He stopped. She pushed, moving him not a single inch. So damn adorable. He gathered her into his arms and breathed deep, taking the solace of her scent, her touch, her heart beating next to his.

She melted against him. "What is going on, Tristan?"

He pulled away and wove her arm through his. He could walk her home first. "Alex has decided to sacrifice himself to save you, my lady."

She jerked to a stop. "No!"

He pulled her gently back into motion. "Yes. He left me a very gallant letter. You can smooth it out and read it if you like. It's a testament to your grace and beauty and kindness, and the even greater beauty of your twin sisters. Alex says he would hate himself forever if he proved the author of your demise. Or your twin sisters' ruination."

"I should not laugh. I cannot laugh. Why would I laugh at a time like this? I will. Not. Laugh." Yet she did a little bit, leaning against him and wiping a tear from her eye.

"I hope to laugh over it very soon. After I retrieve the boy from Lady Eldridge's lair."

Andromeda jerked again. "Lady Eldridge's lair! Oh!"

"What is it? Do you think she has something more akin to a nest? A dungeon? A—"

"We cannot go there."

"We must go there. This very minute."

She groaned. "Oh, Tristan, you will not like what you find there."

He stopped, stopped her as well, and peered down into her face. "What do you mean? What other objectionable sights will I find other than Alex serving himself up as a sacrificial lamb?"

She smiled. Attempted to smile. It was all teeth, a bit of panic in her eyes, more of a very wide and toothy grimace.

"Tell me," he demanded.

She spoke so quickly all the words ran together. "The ladies have taken it upon themselves to remove Lady Eldridge as a threat."

A numbness tingled in his toes. The beginnings of shock? Or just pure confusion? "What do you mean?" He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Let me ask you a question in return. Who holds all the power in the ton?"

"People like your brother. Dukes, marquesses, the wealthy, the titled."

"Ye-eee-esss," she said, a long word, drawn out into forever with a hiss of an ending. If you were to spell it out on paper, there would be many too many e's and quite a few too many s's. "But no. Not really. Not when it comes to Lady Eldridge, to reputations, to the losing of them. The men, the dukes like Samuel and such, may make the laws, but their wives make the social rules. The wives determine who floats, who sinks, who is cut, and who is included."

"I see your point, but—"

"Think of this, Tristan. Despite the scandalous actions my sisters and I have taken in the last four years, we have not been rejected from society. And that is because we are doing what the ladies with power wish of us. We have given them what they want, and while some of them do not wish us to marry their sons, they do not want to hurt us, either. Because we have something they want, and that's—"

"Power of its own kind. Often the most influential type." He whistled, then he frowned. "You should be able to marry their sons. You're better than all of them combined."

She smoothed the groove between his brows. "Do you want me to marry one of their sons?"

"No," he shouted.

A man with an ice cart on the corner looked up, startled. So did his horse.

Tristan grabbed Andromeda's wrist and pulled her down the sidewalk. "Home with you."

"Lady Eldridge's home. I'm going with you." The tone of voice. How could he stop her? He couldn't. Even if he managed to deposit her on her brother's doorstep, she'd follow after him. If he locked her in a room, she'd shimmy out a window.

She'd be safer by his side.

"Very well." It was not too far of a walk to Lady Eldridge's, and he set them in the proper direction. "What will we find there?"

"Unless they've already left, we will likely find a civilized meeting of tonish ladies. Nothing more nefarious. Lady Templeton insists on subtlety, but the ladies have determined that if Lady Eldridge means me harm, then they mean her harm. And the sort of harm they enact is not of the physical variety."

"Social homicide." He cursed, walked faster. Not that he wanted to stop it. But it didn't sit right, letting an army of middle-aged women fight his battles, letting anyone fight his battles.

Andromeda raised her skirts a bit so she did not trip as she ran at his side, and they arrived at the address breathless.

She stopped him before he barged in. "Let the ladies do their work, Tristan. We can retrieve Alex after they've left."

It was his problem. He must enact the solution.

"Or," he offered, "we can sneak into the house and get Alex now while Lady Eldridge is distracted."

Andromeda's mouth opened, closed. She tilted her head. "Excellent point." She reached for the door.

"And then we'll make sure your friends know I do not need their help."

She blinked at him, the door open only a sliver. "This again? Tristan, you cannot control—"

"Everything. So everyone keeps telling me, but I will not hide behind anyone's skirts."

"Do not think of it as hiding. Think of it as accepting the support of unexpected allies."

"I rarely have allies. Other than your brother."

She shook her head and laid her hand over his heart where it beat madly. "I have allies, and you have me, so now you have allies, too." She stabbed her finger into his chest. "Accept them."

He took her hand and lifted it, kissing her knuckles, holding her gaze over their clasped hands, wanting to hold it tight within his own forever. This, however, was neither the time nor the place for—

Above them, wood scratched loudly against wood, a window opening. "Free the boy!" The words wafted down to them from the open window on a wave of excitement.

Tristan and Andromeda looked up.

A face appeared in the opening above. "Not a tree in sight. Not sure how the boy's going to get down."

"Is that Lady Chapman?" Andromeda whispered.

Alex's face appeared alongside the woman's, and panic raced up Tristan's spine, kicking his heart into a frenzy.

"I can climb down, I think. Tree or no tree." Alex slung a leg over the ledge so that it dangled out, gray wool against red brick.

"Very well then." Lady Chapman's mouth pressed into a grim line. "And once you're free, run, boy! Right back to that handsome brother of yours."

Sitting on the windowsill, Alex looked down, froze, then pointed. "There he is!" A wide grin, a lock of hair falling over his eyes, making him look like the man Tristan saw in the mirror every day. "It's my handsome brother."

Several more female faces appeared in the window with wide, staring eyes.

One woman whistled. "He is a looker."

"Lady Chapman, is that you?" Andromeda called out.

"Oh!" The woman in the window waved. "Good to see you, dear." She turned to Alex. "Do you think your brother can catch?"

"Catch what?" Tristan asked.

"Not what, whom," the baroness clarified. "Just in case the young earl slips."

"Do you mean Alex?" Andromeda squeaked.

"Get back inside!" Tristan roared.

"Shh!" Lady Chapman pressed a finger to her lips. "You'll alert the old busybody downstairs."

Tristan looked to Andromeda as Alex's body disappeared back inside. "What's happening right now?"

Andromeda shook her head. "A rescue mission?"

Lady Chapman leaned over the window's edge. "Three of us are down below with Lady Eldridge," the baroness said. "It's a standoff. When we discovered she was keeping the boy locked in a room, the rest of us knew what we must do." Lady Chapman pulled herself up tall. "Release him."

"Just what we were planning," Andromeda mumbled.

True, but… "Do not release him out the window," Tristan called up. "We'll come inside and exit through the front door." Nice and safe and proper.

Lady Chapman shrugged. "If you insist."

He did, and he pushed through and into the townhouse. If he didn't act quickly, they might drop his brother out the window, anyway. His boots found the stairs before he registered Andromeda's hand around his wrist, slowing him. "They said they wouldn't all come at once."

"Did you know they would… do this?" He pulled her with him up half a flight of stairs.

"No! They were supposed to have tea, issue warnings, and write letters and—"

"Never!" The word echoed from down the ground floor hallway. Lady Eldridge.

Andromeda gasped, ran back downstairs. Tristan followed. If the ladies upstairs were bold enough to throw a lad out of a window, he shook to think what chaos the others were causing with Lady Eldridge. Her voice drew them down the hall like a magnet, and he threw open the door. It pushed through with ease to find not chaos, but a red-faced Lady Eldridge near tears, facing down three other women. She sat. They stood. She trembled. They demanded respect.

All four women turned to stare at Tristan and Andromeda, and he recognized them. Lady Templeton, Lady Macintosh, and Mrs. Garrison.

"Lady Andromeda," Lady Templeton said, "we did not expect you. We told you we would take care of this little inconvenience. Do you not trust us?"

Andromeda shook her head. "I do. We came for Alex."

"Ah. I see," Lady Macintosh said. "We have the upper hand. Don't worry, dear. This will all be over in a blink. If your aunt will listen to reason. We were having a perfectly civilized conversation until she began all that screeching." Lady Macintosh rubbed her ear with a grimace.

"I am not his aunt. Get out of my house, all of you." Lady Eldridge shot to her feet and marched toward Tristan. No, her gaze had snagged on Andromeda.

Tristan whipped Andromeda behind him. "Not a step closer, Lady Eldridge."

She stopped her march, but she leaned, ever so slightly closer, her eyes narrowing. "Remove that whore from my house at once."

The shush of skirts as Mrs. Garrison strolled toward them. She laid a hand on Lady Eldridge's shoulder and pushed her so they faced one another. Then she continued pushing her back toward the chair Lady Eldridge had abandoned until her legs hit the seat, and she fell into the seat with a gasp.

"Apologize to Lady Andromeda," Mrs. Garrison said.

Lady Eldridge's mouth thinned, and her jaw hardened. No words would escape that tight-lipped trap.

They were getting nowhere, but Tristan could finish this in moments. He strode forward, gently nudging Lady Garrison aside. "You cannot have Alex, Lady Eldridge. You cannot ruin Andromeda. I would rather pour every pence I've ever earned into your coffers than see that happen. What do you want?"

Andromeda's hands wrapped around his forearm. "You're offering to let her blackmail you. You can't—"

"I will. I have a house north of London. Do you want that? My newspapers? The ship in the docks?"

"I want my sister respected!" Lady Eldridge cried. "I want my nephew's reputation untarnished by you, the remnants of your father's cruelty and thoughtlessness."

Tristan reached a hand into his pocket, pulled out his watch. The silver felt warm in his hand, familiar and soothing. "Your sister was respected. By everyone but my father. By me especially. I loved her as a mother, so I understand why you fight for her." He held out the watch. "Here. She gave me this, and now I give it to you. Your sister gave it to me."

Lady Eldridge took the piece with trembling hands. "It belonged to our father." She lifted a sharp, sneering gaze. "You stole it."

"As I said, Katherine gave it to me, a reminder that I control my destiny. As you control yours."

She threw the watch at him, and it hit him on the chest before falling to the floor with a dull thud.

"Excellent try, young man." Mrs. Garrison pushed him out of the way. "Now leave it to us."

Andromeda pulled him toward the edge of the action, and Lady Templeton sauntered toward the seated, cornered woman.

"He's a bastard!" Lady Eldridge flung her arms wide. "And she's a whore! Why do you protect them?"

Lady Macintosh shrugged. "Who are you to judge men who must make their own way in the world? Or ladies who like a bit of interesting bed play?" Her mouth curved into a sly smile. "Considering your reading habits."

"Reading habits?" The words carved a deep scowl into Lady Eldridge's face.

"Come see, ladies, what I discovered on her bookshelf." Lady Macintosh held a small book up high.

Andromeda gasped.

"What is it?" Tristan asked.

"The School of Venus," she whispered. "One of my mother's books."

Ah. Tristan felt as if he were at a Drury Lane theatrical. The play unfolded before him, and he could do nothing to stop it, help it, or encourage it along in any way. His role remained merely to observe. And it itched at him like a bug bite, but… not too much. His curiosity won out over his discomfort. How would this play end? Tragedy? Or comedy?

Lady Macintosh strode across the room, book high, and slammed it onto a table beside Lady Eldridge. "How do you explain that?"

"Th-that's not mine." Lady Eldridge raised her face to the three women circling her. "That's not mine!"

"But you know what it is, don't you?" Lady Templeton opened the book's cover, gasped, and clutched a hand to her bosom. "Are those ladies purchasing trinkets shaped like male appendages?" Lady Eldridge gasped, but Lady Templeton ignored her, continued flipping pages. "My. I had no idea your taste ran to the erotic." She turned first to Mrs. Garrison and then to Lady Macintosh. "What should we do with this new knowledge, ladies?"

"Hm." Mrs. Garrison paced away, her arms clasped behind her back like a general. When she reached the end of the room, she whirled around to face them. "Perhaps nothing. If Lady Eldridge can keep a secret, then so too can we."

"Liars!" Lady Eldridge jumped to her feet.

Above them, the sounds of running feet shook the ceiling. Hell and chaos. The others were coming. No one else seemed to notice but Andromeda, who'd tilted her gaze upward.

Lady Templeton pushed Lady Eldridge back down into the chair. "You insult us. When faced with your word against all of ours, who do you think people will believe? You will be a pariah. No one will accept you, and—"

"No!" Lady Eldridge clutched at Lady Templeton's skirts.

Lady Templeton shook her off, and Lady Eldridge fell to her knees.

Enough. Tristan found the part to play. He marched forward and extended a hand to Alex's aunt. "Let me help you."

Lady Eldridge pushed to her knees and then her feet, ignoring him. "You did this to me," she sniffed.

"He's done nothing to you," Andromeda said, standing beside him. "He's done nothing but live and love his brother."

Lady Eldridge ignored her and turned instead to Lady Templeton. "Do you mean it? You'll tell everyone that… that book belongs to me?"

Lady Templeton shrugged, smoothing her skirts and tugging the cuffs of her sleeves into place. "Yes."

"Why? I don't understand."

"You wouldn't. You lack creativity." Lady Templeton's gaze fell on The School of Venus, and she sighed. "We women must protect one another. And anyone who threatens the happiness of those we love are not worth protecting." She leaned close, curled the corner of her lip. "Are you worth protecting?"

"I… I…" Lady Eldridge stuttered.

They were protecting him, as the woman he'd thought of as mother in his youngest years had always protected him, protected Alex, when they had been too young to protect themselves. He, too, must protect those he loved and cared for. But perhaps, sometimes, in this case at least, that was best achieved by letting others do the work for him, by trusting others with his tightly held control.

Footsteps bounding down the stairway.

Lady Templeton turned then. A sharp movement initiated by the thrust of her chin over her shoulder as she gave Lady Eldridge her back.

Mrs. Garrison also turned, then Lady Macintosh, and all three began a confident march away from Lady Eldridge.

"No." Lady Eldridge choked out the word. "No." This one rose high on a wail.

Still, they marched until they reached the door, where they met a wall of women surrounding one gangly boy.

The three ladies in charge gave a nod to their army, and those women turned their backs, too. Alex ran from their hold and skidded to a stop in front of Tristan.

Lady Eldridge did not notice, her terrified, watery gaze riveted on the women's backs. "No, stop! Stop! I won't say a word. I promise. I swear it. Not a single word against Lady Andromeda."

They kept spilling down the hallway toward the front door.

"Or Mr. Kingston."

Only three women remained in the doorway of the drawing room—Lady Templeton, Mrs. Garrison, and Lady McIntosh.

"I'll leave the earl alone," Lady Eldridge wailed.

"My name's Alex!"

Tristan crossed his arms over his chest, grinned.

Lady Templeton stopped midstep and turned back around to face Lady Eldridge. "If we hear any rumors, any whispers… we'll know where they came from."

"Yes, yes." Lady Eldridge nodded, her face blurring with the speed of the motion. "Not a peep from me. Quiet as a mouse." Her gaze fell to the watch on the floor before her.

Lady Templeton sniffed. "We can expect to see you tomorrow at Lady Prickle's garden party, then?"

"Oh, yes." More race-fast nodding.

"Lady Andromeda and her new betrothed, Mr. Kingston, will be in attendance."

The nodding stopped, and Lady Eldridge's gaze snapped to Tristan. "I… well… I… Of course. I look forward to it."

"Yes," Mrs. Garrison said, her voice low, "you do." Then she left.

Alex and Andromeda moved to leave, too, but Tristan stopped them, lifting an arm gently into their path. "Not yet." He put his arms around them and faced Lady Eldridge. "I know why you hate me, but I don't hate you. I pity you. The good will of women who dislike you is more important to you than anything else. You will not be cut from society, but you will be alone. You do not have to be."

He'd thought himself alone but for a very small handful of people. Today he'd learned he was not. He had, as Andromeda phrased it, allies. Made a man feel stronger. Made a man feel invincible. Made a man feel like, if he ever lost control of the universe for a moment, others would be there to hold him up.

"I want Alex to know his mother's family. That includes, despite my better judgment, you. Though you would have ruined us, we will not turn you from our door."

Alex wiggled. "But King—"

"We will welcome her. No matter what. It is what a gentlem—no, a good man would do. Good day, Lady Eldridge." He bowed and steered his brother and the woman he loved out of the room.

The strength seeped quickly from his muscles. As he pulled his family toward the door, he said, "A special license, Captain. How do you feel about that?"

"Quite good." Andromeda leaned into his embrace.

He pushed open the front door and light from the street spilled in. Where had the butler gone? Had all the staff ran off when she'd recruited them for combat? "I must admit I'm reeling a bit. What a turn of events. My mother's books, which those women love so well, became the key to our success because Lady Eldridge is so offended by them. Makes my mind spin."

"What kind of books are those?" Alex looked up at Andromeda with more than a little curiosity in his eye.

Tristan elbowed his brother. "Nothing to concern you. Apologize for running off. Good intentions, Alex, but—"

"Lady Andromeda." Lady Templeton stood on the street before them, hands on hips, one eyebrow raised. "Mr. Kingston. Avelford."

Tristan bowed low. "I must thank you, my lady, for rescuing—"

"I'm not standing in this oppressive heat under a sun sent from Hell itself to receive your gratitude, Mr. Kingston."

"You have it, anyway."

"And mine," Andromeda said, slipping out of Tristan's hold to step closer to the other woman. "I am speechless with it, Lady Templeton. You defended me today, and I will always be in your debt."

Lady Templeton sniffed. "If you truly wish to thank us, you will not abandon us. You may be able to foist your responsibilities on someone else, Lady Andromeda, but you'll never be rid of us. We are here for good."

Andromeda smiled. "And I am glad for it. I'm coming to learn that the past cannot be ignored. And perhaps should not be. I am grateful that you are a part of my past that will also take firm root in my present. Thank you, Lady Templeton. I hope Wally finds a wonderful wife."

She sniffed. "And I hope to see you in Lady Aphrodite's parlor from time to time. There will be less to worry about once you are married like the rest of us. We will not have to curb our tongues."

Andromeda laughed, red skating across her cheeks as if a cutting winter wind had whipped it there. "Did you ever? Curb your tongues?"

Lady Templeton cracked a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow. At the garden party."

"Yes. We'll be there." Andromeda retook her rightful place in the crook of Tristan's arm. In a half-hour's time, he had Alex back at home and Andromeda back under her brother's roof.

She hurried up the stairs, calling down to him. "Do not leave yet. Wait in the parlor!"

He hefted heavy limbs in the direction she requested, and when the door of the parlor finally slipped open, he was standing at the window, looking out, as he had been that first day. The first time he'd kissed her.

He turned around, and she approached him gingerly, a piece of creamy paper held before her.

"Here," she said, holding it out.

He took it. "What…?"

"Read it."

He sat on the couch, grateful he did not have to ask her to sit with him. She did so naturally, nestling into the arm he draped across the back of the seat.

"Samuel asked for everything I could give him. For his Guide." She tilted her chin at the paper. "Go on. Read it."

So he did.

Lady Andromeda's Guide to Courtship

He laughed. "Be Mr. Tristan Kingston?"

"Yes. That's the most important bit."

"Are you saying no other man could complete a successful courtship of you, then?"

"That's precisely what I'm saying."

Tristan laughed again, hugging her close and kissing her temple. "Your brother was right, then."

"Oh, please do not tell him that."

"The most important way to woo a lady is to choose the right one."

"No. You've got it wrong. It's not you who chooses us. We choose you."

Then she kissed him, and in that meeting of lips, their hearts met, too, and burned brighter than a thousand candles glowing at once, brighter than the sun on a summer afternoon, burned as bright as their future.