“But they aren’tme,” he said. “You think I would be happy to stay behind while you go into a situation that might be dangerous? The very idea is outrageous. When I heard that you cut me out of your plans, I couldn’t let that stand.Pleasedon’t argue with me.”
It seemed there was no room to do so. She heard the firmness in his tone. The complete faith and peace in his decision to come to get her, to insert himself in this day, whatever the consequences.
“How did you find out?” she asked as she shifted off his lap and slid onto the seat next to him.
He arched a brow and a flicker of humor entered his dark eyes. “Selina.”
She huffed out her breath. “Selina?” she repeated in shock. “And after she made such a show of hugging me and telling me I could travel with them so I wouldn’t be alone. Did she come running straight to you after our meeting earlier today? She must have, for there was no time for this plan of yours otherwise.”
There was something lighter in the way Nicholas laughed. Something so much more like that boy he’d once been before heartbreak and war and injury. How that sound pulled her back in time and softened some of her upset that she had been tricked.
“Selina behaved like a very good sister,” he said. “I’m terribly pleased with her.”
“Well, I’m—I’m very angry withyou.” She folded her arms and wished with all her heart that her voice sounded stronger when she said those words. “Youtrickedme by coming to fetch me in the Huntington’s carriage. You didn’t even ask for my leave, you just forced my hand.”
He smiled again, seemingly untroubled by her supposed anger, which they could both see wasn’t particularly hot or serious. “I did. But only because you forced mine.”
She tried to think of some kind of retort to that accusation. Of course she couldn’t. He wasn’t entirely wrong, damn him. It would be easier if he were. But they were in a similar position: he wanting to protect her, she desperate to do the same for him.
“But Nicholas—” she began.
He held up a hand with a little sigh. “Aurora, I’m not going to talk around and around in circles about who did what. This is happening now. We can use how angry you are with me later.”
Her brow wrinkled. “How?” He tilted his head and his pupils dilated with what she knew was desire. She gasped. “Are you talking about bedding me? At a time like this?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s making you less nervous, isn’t it? Picturing how you might vent all that anger on me in much more amusing ways than merely arguing?”
She pursed her lips because he was right. She’d been obsessively running over in her mind what would happen when they met with Imogen. What would be said, how she could protect her friend, how she could cope with whatever Imogen had gone through while they were parted.
But now she felt calmer. More at ease. Becausehewas here.
The carriage had begun to slow, and she reached out and caught his hand. He held tight to her, pulling back the curtain so they could see the club their carriage had just stopped in front of. A huge building, finely designed down to the last detail.
“He’s certainly done well for himself,” Nicholas said softly.
She cast a quick glance at him. “Your…your brother. Oscar Fitzhugh.”
“Yes, yet another in a line of my father’s by-blows. The first, actually.” He shook his head, and the sadness in his stare was painful. “Though he wants nothing to do with the family. It will be interesting to see how thrilled he is to see us all parade into his club. The one I believe he’s banned the lot of us from.”
She squeezed his hand, sending back the same comfort that was offered to her. “Then I suppose we’ll be there for each other.”
He glanced down at their intertwined fingers, then lifted them to his lips. He brushed her knuckles with his mouth and smiled. “I wouldn’t want anyone else at my side.”
She shivered and bent her head. “And I admit that, though I fought to keep you away, I’m glad you’re here.”
There was no lie to the statement. It felt so right to have him at her side. More peaceful, safer. She saw the other carriages arriving as she and Nicholas were helped out by the footman who had assisted them earlier. Nicholas drew a deep breath, and they headed up the short marble staircase to the door. A servant in fine livery was already holding it open and they entered a vestibule.
“Mr. Fitzhugh and Mrs. Huxley are awaiting you in the main parlor,” the butler said. “Through there.”
He motioned toward a door. Nicholas glanced back over his shoulder and nodded toward the others who were gathering behind them, then guided Aurora to the door. She was holding her breath. It was all she could do, for she couldn’t pull in a full one as they stepped into the room.
It was a large parlor, obviously meant for bigger gatherings of the gentlemen who attended Fitzhugh’s club. A pretty room with intricate moldings and a wall of windows that led the light flood in and gave a good view of the street below that even Beau Brummell himself would envy in his tiny window at White’s.
There was a man standing at a sideboard. From behind she wasn’t certain if he was Fitzhugh himself, but he was broad-shouldered, with dark hair streaked with a few lines of silver.
But it wasn’t he who she wanted to see. She turned her attention to the mantel and let out a gasp. There Imogen was, just turning toward the door. She looked tired, but well and whole, and Aurora couldn’t hold back her response.
“Imogen!” she cried out as she released Nicholas and rushed across the room to launch herself at her friend.
