to Sylvana Hall would take entirely too long to be of any use. Besides, that was precisely what Clive would expect her to do and he would surely catch her along the way.
Her best chance now lay with Duquesne’s providing her means to arrive home quickly before Brinks awoke, raised a cry and notified Clive that she was missing.
Lily spent some time deciding what she might do once she arrived at the Hall, how she would spirit Beau away from there to safety and where they might go. But where could they go? Sylvana Hall was their home. She had responsibilities there that she had no intention of turning over to Clive. Unless she could prove what she thought he had done, he would remain a threat. What she and Beau needed was a permanent guard. Then an outrageous plan occurred to her.
A headache formed directly between her eyes, a me-grim she could not afford at present considering all she had to accomplish before morning.
She took up the half-empty bottle of brandy from the desk and looked for a glass. Finding none, she upended the bottle to her lips and allowed herself two sips for courage.
That was how he found her when he returned.
Guy stifled a laugh at the picture she presented, one hand propped rakishly on the edge of his desk, her hips cocked to one side and her head leaning back to drink his liquor.
The light caught on the ragged wisps of her red-gold curls, furnishing a halo effect. Gilding Lily, the rowdy angel, he thought with an inner smile.
He felt damned glad she was not what he had first thought her to be, some charlatan’s whore sent round to ply a scam or worse. Or perhaps a spy. He was ever alert for those since he did a bit of work now and again for the war department and had accrued a few enemies due to that. Fortunately, with peace breaking out, those chores were mostly behind him now and—profits aside—he was relieved.
Lily’s story seemed too bizarre for a fiction. While Guy did not know Clive Bradshaw personally, he knew there were men who would do damn near anything to acquire a title and whatever went with it. She was right to worry about the boy. And, judging by what she had suffered at Bradshaw’s hands, she should be more worried than she was about herself. Damned if he didn’t admire her spirit.
She lowered the bottle to the desk with a solid thunk and faced him as directly as a man might have done. “Is my mount ready?”
Guy crossed to the desk, reached around her to snag the bottle and took a healthy swig himself. He offered it to her again and watched her shake her head impatiently.
He set the decanter aside for the moment. “I’ve sent for someone reliable, a man I trust with my life. When he arrives, I shall have him go and fetch your son and his nurse. Safer if you wait here.”
The blue eyes went wide. “I cannot stay here!”
“Better than in the madhouse,” he quipped, looking around him, “though not by much, I’m afraid.”
She began to pace, rubbing her arms with her palms in a gesture that betrayed more consternation than he had seen yet from her. “Mrs. Prine will likely die of apoplexy if a perfect stranger demands they leave the Hall and go with him to London. And besides, she doesn’t ride,” Lily said, flinging the words over her shoulder as she paused at the window.
“By hook, crook or pony cart, she’ll arrive with her charge no later than midafternoon, I promise. And you need not worry for their safety.”
Her hands flared helplessly. “I cannot simply sit and wait!”
“Of course not. You must go upstairs and have a good sleep. Your son will be shocked enough at your appearance. If you look done-in, as well, he’ll be frightened out of his wits.”
She scoffed. “You don’t know my Beau!”
Guy smiled. “Has your grit, does he? How old is the scamp?”
He proffered the bottle again and she took it, downed a delicate sip and handed it back, resuming her pacing as she did so.
“He turned seven last month.”
“Ah, well, I wager he’ll relish the adventure.”
She collapsed into the chair and buried her face in her hands. Guy watched her sob twice, then go still. She sniffed heavily once and brushed the tears from her face with a determined swipe of both palms. “Botheration!” Then she shrugged and looked up at him. “Forgive me. I know how men despise tears.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” he said gently, raking the disheveled curls off her brow with his finger.
“I would like to avoid being treated as one,” she quipped with a self-conscious laugh and another sniff.
Indeed. “Why don’t you begin from the beginning and tell me again how it happened in detail? No matter how insignificant you think something might be, include it. I might be able to use it.”
“Use it? For what?”
“I don’t know yet, but you may rest assured this is not over, Lily. Not by a long mark. Bradshaw made a bold move and has gone too far to simply let it lie. Now begin, and leave out nothing.”
He watched her carefully as she related her story.
“So you recognized Bradshaw’s voice?” he asked her when she’d finished.
“No, but who else could it have been? I assumed it was Clive because he is the only one who would gain anything by such a deed. He would assume control of my widow’s portion—the usual third of the estate—and also the remainder that is being held in trust for Beau. Not to mention Beau himself.” She swallowed hard, fighting to maintain control of her emotions. “If he would imprison me the way he intended, I shudder to think what he might do to a defenseless child who stands between him and what he wants.”
What had been done to Lily frightened her, Guy could see, but not nearly so much as what Bradshaw might be planning for her son. She was right about one thing. Being the nearest male relative, Bradshaw would acquire the title himself if the boy were out of his way.
“Who might be assisting him in this plot aside from Brinks? That’s what worries me,” Guy admitted. “He would have to prove your insanity in order to obtain a paper of committal to an institution.”
Guy watched her gaze slide away as she worried her lips with her teeth. “What is it? What are you not telling me, Lily?”
She sighed and sat back in the chair, looking almost defeated. “I rarely go out in Society, but I did attend a small soiree the Dansons held at Livsby Grange a week ago. I attended at Clive’s insistence. Apparently, I…I caused something of a scene there.”
Guy’s attention keened. “Of what sort?”
She busily pleated the hem of her coat as she made the admission. “Well, we partook of the buffet provided. Clive brought me a small plate and a cup of punch. All went well at first. I knew most of the neighbors who attended and the conversation was pleasant enough. Soon after we finished our refreshment, we took seats for the entertainment.” She halted.
“Go on. What happened?”
“The lights were lowered. A short while later…everyone began swaying
