Marquess of Menace (Lords of Scandal 10)

He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “You would have found a way.”

She gave him a breathtaking smile. Her mouth started to turn up, hesitated, and then gently lifted into a warm, soft grin that robbed the air from his lungs.

He’d wanted her before but somehow this was different. He still wished to touch her, but he also wanted…to protect her, support her. Watch her shine.

“Thank you,” she murmured as the carriage slowed to a stop.

He didn’t answer as the door snapped open. Then he lifted her out and when his feet were on the ground, he gently set her down, placing a hand at her waist to guide her up the stairs.

The trio made their way into the still-empty kitchen where Eliza grabbed a hunk of bread from the counter and then started up the stairs.

She didn’t say a word, but she looked back at him several times until she disappeared from sight.

He stared at the point where she’d disappeared for several seconds before a hard finger tapped his shoulder. “We need to talk.”

Bash.

His best friend in the world. And the man who currently participated in wedded bliss. Damn. What had he been thinking holding Eliza in front of Bash like that? Eliza had a way of making him act unlike himself. “Do we?”

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a whisky.” And then Bash started out of the kitchen. Dylan followed.

When they reached Bash’s office, he wordlessly crossed the room and opened the decanter that sat on a small table, filling two glasses.

Dylan stood by the low fire, watching the embers burn in the grate. Bash handed him a glass and he took a sip, enjoying the sweet burn as they sat.

Silence settled for a few minutes as they both drank.

Then Bash rubbed his forehead with his thumb and finger, his head tilting down. “That was so awful.”

Dylan looked over at him. “It was.” He remembered the way Eliza had curled into him.

Bash lifted his head again, his face stony. “A ring of thieves stealing from the Crown? Endangering all of the sisters? I thought I was protecting them from one angry uncle. But this…”

Dylan winced. That was an excellent point. Why didn’t he think of these things? He hadn’t considered beyond Eliza being in danger. “Are you going to listen to him? Keep the girls out of society?”

Bash shook his head again. “I don’t even know. On the one hand, we should keep up appearances. They’re safe because no one knows we know anything. If we suddenly change our behavior…”

“It’s like the sisters know about their father and the danger.” Damn. Bash had a point. He ran his hand through his hair. How were they going to keep them safe? When had he counted himself in this?

Then he snorted into his whisky. The moment he’d agreed to go to a dawn meeting with an unwed woman, he’d firmly placed himself amidst the drama.

“I need you to help me, Menace,” Bash said, closing his eyes.

His friend looked tired. “How?” He gripped his glass tighter.

Bash rolled his glass between his hands. “Well.” His hands stilled as he turned to look at Dylan. “You could marry Eliza. That would help.”

He choked on the whisky sliding down his throat and just managed to push out the word, “How?” once again as he attempted to keep the drink from spraying out of his mouth.

Bash glared. “For starters I’d have another well-titled lord aiding me in keeping them safe. As Carrington Shipping gets rolled into our assets, it becomes less appealing to other men to steal from us.”

“Not true. If Dishonor is correct, they are stealing from the Crown. If they’ll take from the Prince Regent…”

“Then we have a powerful ally.”

“You’re using the word we,” Dylan bit out. “You’re a duke. You don’t need me.”

“Let me say it a different way. Eliza is now an heiress. Not only would you be helping your friend, but you’d get what you wanted as well. I’ve seen the way you look at her. The way you just held her. You had to know there would be consequences for such familiarity.”