The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

“If you can arrange a banquet in less than a day,” Lillian said with some amazement, “what could you achieve if given a week?”

“Allow me to warn my mistress that a Scot will take up any challenge when he’s had a drink.” Mackenzie inclined his head respectfully but tapped his finger to his nose and winked. “I have a few surprises in store for tomorrow.”

Fabian groaned inwardly. “I think you’ve enough to concern yourself with for now.” Catching the thief was the priority. Not because he cared about losing food and provisions. Trust and loyalty mattered more to him than money.

With the tables overladen with platters of food, everyone waited for Fabian and Lillian to take their seats before finding a spot on a bench. Soon the great hall was alive with boisterous chatter, salutes and cheers. Clearly, Mackenzie had given strict orders when it came to dining in front of a lady. His men ate with cutlery. They sipped their ale as opposed to emptying the vessel in one gulp. Freddie wiped his mouth with a napkin and not his shirt sleeves. But Fabian wasn’t the only one impressed with their manners.

“I must say I find your men rather civil.” Lillian placed her wine glass on the table and turned to him. “Where do they live when not at sea? Surely not in the castle.”

Fabian bit back a chuckle. Was that her way of reminding him she needed pistols? “Over a hundred men work for me.”

“A hundred?”

It took fifty men working together to sail a merchant ship and transport cargo. “There are but two dozen here at any one time. Most of them live in the cottages near the dock. The unmarried men share accommodation. Mackenzie is the only one who resides here.” Because he was the only man in the world Fabian trusted.

Lillian glanced at Mackenzie seated at the end of their table. “Your friend is a remarkable man, that is when he’s not kidnapping innocent women from the Pleasure Gardens.”

“He’s old enough to be your father.” Jealousy crawled through Fabian’s veins. Would she ever use the word remarkable to describe him? “What I mean is he takes the role of protector seriously. It was out of loyalty to me that he behaved as he did at Vauxhall.”

A vision of her wearing her pretty lavender dress flashed into his mind, of her laughing and dancing as gentlemen bombarded her with attention. After enjoying the company of high society, now she dined with men who thought salt pork a delicacy.

“I should despise him,” she said. “Drugging a woman is not what one would consider gentlemanly. And yet I cannot help but like him.”

“And what about me? Do you like me, Lillian? Am I forgiven for stealing you away from everything you hold dear?”

A dark sadness settled over her face. She fought back the few tears filling her eyes. The sight cut him deep. By God, he felt like the worst of scoundrels. He had not thought this plan through at all.

“I have always liked you, Fabian. Though I do not always agree with your methods or principles.”

“Believe me when I tell you, I wish there had been some other way of achieving my goal.”

“So you wish you could have saved Estelle without marrying me?” The tremor in her voice revealed an inner pain, and she struggled to hold his gaze. Ironically, he didn’t want to hurt her—he’d never wanted that. From the moment he’d uttered the words I will, the overwhelming need to make her happy consumed him.

“That is not what I said. I mean things might have been different if we had married under the right circumstances.” Part of him wished to eradicate the last eight years, although Vane would never have permitted her to marry a man verging on bankruptcy.

Their conversation was cut short by Mackenzie who’d found a gavel and sound block from somewhere, the thud of the wooden hammer capturing everyone’s attention.

“The men insist on doing something to mark the occasion.” Mackenzie hammered his gavel again when the sailors jeered and taunted their shipmates. “If it pleases my lord and lady, ma

y I present the first of the day’s entertainment.”

Fabian could not prevent the wide grin from forming. Mackenzie was worth more than his hefty weight in gold. He gave a nod of approval and turned to Lillian. “Don’t expect to see skill like that of Madame Pesqui, the tightrope walker. These men are likely to fall off a plank after supping Mackenzie’s ale.”

Lillian’s smile replaced the solemn expression she had worn moments earlier. For that, he owed Mackenzie another debt of gratitude.

“Allow me to present Skinny Malinky.” Mackenzie gestured for the man to come and take the floor as the musicians in the corner of the room struck a few chords on their fiddles.

“Skinny Malinky?” Lillian screwed up her nose. “What an odd name.”

“Apparently it’s a Scottish term. Alfred has extremely long legs as I believe he is about to demonstrate.”

The fellow came forward, bowed to them and performed an odd folk dance that saw him whipping his long limbs up high in the air. His shipmates gasped and ducked for fear of being kicked as Skinny jigged about in the space between the long tables.

Next, came Freddie Fortune, a man known for being sleight of hand. With permission, he approached the dais. Lillian picked a playing card from a dog-eared pack. After sliding the card back into the deck without anyone seeing it, Freddie shuffled and threw some onto the floor before plucking the correct card from behind Lillian’s ear.

With his eyes trained on her every expression, Fabian experienced a sudden rush of warmth to his chest whenever she giggled.

“How on earth did he do that?” In her excitement, she clutched Fabian’s arm and the heat plaguing his body warmed another part of his anatomy.