The Scandalous Lady Sandford (Lost Ladies of London 3)

Mary stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm. “We will wait at the bottom of the steps, and keep Lady Ravenscroft in our sights at all times.” Mary cast a sidelong glance, looking for Lillian’s approval.

“What I have to say to Aubrey is a private matter.” She would ask about Vane. Had Aubrey seen him during those chaotic hours at Vauxhall? A vision of her brother’s frightened face entered her mind. He must be beside himself with worry. “But you can wait with Mary.”

Mackenzie nodded, and his gaze flicked to the dainty hand still resting on his sleeve. “I have the key in my pocket.” He tapped his chest. “Shall we head there now and get this matter over with?”

Mary’s hand slipped from Mackenzie’s sleeve. “You’ll need a cloak, my lady. Shall I fetch the one Ursula found for you?”

Having arrived at the island with nothing but the clothes on her back, Nancy and Ursula had begged and borrowed the necessary items to last until alternative arrangements were made.

“Thank you, Mary. We will wait for you here.”

They watched Mary hurry away.

“Mary has been your shadow for the last few days,” Mackenzie said. “Offering her work at the castle shows the men they’ve nothing to fear. For that, I’m eternally grateful to you, lass.”

“Her husband has abandoned her, and I’ve never been one to condemn a person for someone else’s mistake.”

Mackenzie inclined his head respectfully. “Happen that’s why his lordship is besotted with you.”

A weak chuckle escaped. “His lordship married me out of necessity. Surely you know that.”

“I’m not so sure. From the tales he’s told, I’d say he’s admired you since you were a girl. He said that you once told him that it’s not the stars that hold one’s destiny but ourselves.”

Lillian’s heart skipped a beat. “I did say that, although I cannot claim the credit for Shakespeare’s wise words.”

“Either way, his lordship holds your opinion in high regard.”

“We were friends once.” During which time she hoped for more. She’d thought of him many times over the years. Would things have been different were it not for his father’s poor investment? “And perhaps we’ve found a way to become friends again.”

“Friends?” Mackenzie raised a brow. “After the way his lordship kissed you, I’d say there’s more to it than that.”

A blush warmed her cold cheeks. They were more than friends. She’d felt an intense burst of affection for him the moment he entered her body. “Oh, Mackenzie, do you think he’s all right?” The panic she’d kept at bay for days erupted. “What if he’s had an accident? What if he’s hurt?”

Mackenzie pursed his lips and patted her arm. “There now, lass. His lordship has sailed the worst storms I’ve ever had the misfortune to witness and lived to tell the tale. And he’s got Freddie Fortune with him. The man’s a walking monument to luck.” Mackenzie gave a sly wink. “Although I imagine his lordship took Freddie along to make use of his light fingers if you take my meaning.”

Was this what it felt like to be a sailor’s wife? Four days felt like a lifetime. The agonising wait proved all-consuming. How had she gone from wanting to punch Fabian for dragging her to the desolate island to wanting to feel cocooned in his warm embrace?

“I need a distraction, Mackenzie.” Errant thoughts filled her head. Would Fabian be different when he returned? After listening to her story, did he think less of her than before? Good Lord. These strange emotions had turned her into a wreck. “I need something to occupy my mind while he’s gone.”

“Leave it to me. If it’s a distraction you seek, I know just the thing. These men are adept at keeping themselves entertained during long voyages.”

Mary returned to the bailey, clutching a dark blue cloak. “Here, my lady, this should keep the chill at bay.” Mary was as attentive as Mackenzie. She draped the garment around Lillian’s shoulders and fastened the ties at the collar as if Lillian were incapable of performing the task herself.

With a look of wonder, Mackenzie studied Mary’s red hair but then caught himself and mumbled incoherently. “We’d better see what that dirty beggar has to say for himself.”

“Then lead the way.”

A narrow flight of steps gave access to the dungeon. Mackenzie insisted on descending first. Perhaps he thought to scare away the rats, or to seek confirmation that the prisoner hadn’t escaped during the night.

The temperature plummeted. The putrid stench in the air, a disgusting concoction of faeces, sweat and stagnant water, assaulted her nostrils. The urge to retch proved great.

“I trust you’ve given the man a chamber pot.” Lillian put her hand to her mouth as it brought much-needed relief. “This is not medieval England after all.”

“Aye, we’ve afforded him every luxury.” Mackenzie coughed to hide a chuckle.

Lillian stared down the dim corridor. A torch flickered in the sconce, casting eerie shadows over the damp walls.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you, lass?”