Gone with the Rake (Inglorious Scoundrels #1)

Chapter 16

I n a swaying carriage, under the poor light of the lantern, Lydia reread the words of the pamphlet once more.

She was ruined, utterly and completely ruined.

Perhaps nobody paid any heed to the pamphlet spread by the notorious hell owner in the middle of her masquerade that floated down from the sky after dramatic fireworks…

Lydia let out a long-suffering sigh. Of course, all the attention was on the pamphlet. Good thing she fled right after. She feared a mob would form right at the ball to come and find her.

She had angered many lords and ladies on her way to notoriety as the stealthiest thief in London. She was wanted by the Crown.

And although a printed pamphlet was not proof, once investigated thoroughly, she would no doubt be thrown to the gallows.

Good thing she had her trunks all packed and ready in the carriage. She could— no , she should—leave right now and not look back.

But the weight of the ruby on her finger, the feel of his kiss that still lingered on her lips, bound her to London with invisible chains. And she needed to break out.

The rain started pitter-pattering outside the carriage window, matching her gloomy mood.

“What are you going to do?” Honoria broke the silence.

Lydia shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Leave, I suppose. Just as I have planned.” She raised her eyes to her friend. “What happened there? What made you decide to remain in London?”

Honoria averted her gaze. “My earl—I mean, the master—” She stumbled over her words. Stifling a nervous chuckle, she finally said, “I just realized that I can’t leave this life. If I leave now, I will always wonder, always regret it.”

Was she blushing? Lydia leaned forward, only for Honoria to duck, hiding her face. “Did something happen between you and the earl?”

Honoria tugged on the tips of her gloves nervously. “No. N-not really. It’s just—Please, don’t ask questions because I don’t know the answers to them, Lydia. I am just as confused. I just know that I have to stay.”

Just as Lydia knew she had to leave. “And what if he finds you?”

Honoria looked up sharply. She clearly didn’t anticipate this question, although she should have. “Then I’ll… In that case, I will be quickly joining you on your travels.” She flashed a quick, sad smile. “I hope you’ll still welcome me.”

Lydia didn’t understand Honoria’s reluctance to explain herself or, more importantly, her willingness to stay after everything she went through. But a part of her didn’t need to understand because a part of her felt the exact same way—as though there were things, unresolved things, that nagged her to stay as well.

Or perhaps she didn’t want to leave anymore either. She could still see Art’s eyes, dark and intense, full of pain and passion and wonder, as he reverently whispered her name.

Lily .

She wasn’t Lily anymore—she hadn’t been for a long time. But all the moments they’d shared immediately floated back to the surface from the deep recesses of her heart and enveloped her like a blanket.

She had tried to forget it all, forget him , for so long. She had thought that stealing his jewel, this ring that was now nestled on her finger, would give her a feeling of satisfaction.

It was her revenge. Her closure. A full stop.

The end.

But it wasn’t enough.

A few quick kisses in the darkened alcove weren’t enough either.

Perhaps nothing would ever be enough, and she should just leave. Right now.

The carriage pulled to a stop as if to punctuate her thoughts.

“What about you?” Honoria asked. “What are you going to do now?”

Lydia licked her lips. “I am going to help you get into your house quickly and quietly. And then I am going to leave just as I planned.” A nervous chuckle on her lips, she added, “Before I get caught for my crimes.”

Honoria bit her lip. “I am going to miss you.”

“I shall miss you, too.”

Distant horse hooves and the rattle of a carriage sounded somewhere behind them. Honoria looked out the window. “Blast! It must be the earl. He must have left the masquerade right after we did. I won’t have enough time to get home without him seeing me.”

Lydia nodded and rushed to hug her friend. “I shall distract him. You go.”

“Lydia, don’t!” Honoria cried out, but Lydia already opened the carriage door and jumped down, stepping into a puddle.

Her soaking slippers, now covered in mud, rushed to the driver’s side. “Wait for me at the corner of the street.”

Honoria stumbled out of the carriage. “What are you doing, Lydia?”

“I am giving you time to get in before the earl notices you,” she shouted over the rain. “Now go.”

Honoria, a heavy valise in hand, gave Lydia a quick hug and hurried away toward the house’s back entrance. The carriage slowly pulled away and drove to the corner of the street.

Lydia didn’t know exactly what she was going to say to the earl, but she would only need to distract him for a few minutes, to give Honoria enough time to reach her room.

The shadowy silhouette of the carriage approached Lydia in the dark. Lydia pressed a hand to her forehead, hoping it would shield her eyes from the heavy rain. It didn’t.

Before the carriage even pulled to a stop, the door flew open with such force that it slammed against the side. A towering figure emerged, dark and menacing, causing Lydia to instinctively step back. Her heart hammered against her ribs, and her breath caught in her throat as lightning flashed, illuminating the gentleman’s face.

It wasn’t the earl at all.

It was Art.

He’d found her again.

Determination etched on his features, he leapt from the carriage step with the grace of a predator and… slipped on the wet, dirt-streaked road. His momentum carried him backward as his feet slid out from under him. His arms fighting for balance, his expression transformed from fierce determination to comical surprise as he landed with an undignified splash, right onto his arse.

Lydia couldn’t help but laugh.

She stepped forward, extending her hand to help him up. He raised his head and looked at her with that gaze full of wonder again, as if he couldn’t believe he was seeing her. Then his fingers wrapped around hers, but instead of rising to his feet, he pulled on her arm, causing her to lose her balance.

She fell with a shriek and landed on his lap.

Art wrapped his arms around her, locking her in a tight embrace. Lydia raised her eyes to his and was caught in the endless depth of his gaze.

As he stared at her, dark and silent, and full of hope, she felt a tiny, shriveled, last vestige of hope unfurl within her, too.