One o’clock had come and gone before Amelia’s carriage was able to arrive at the door of Melbourne House, for some guests were still arriving even as she and Lydia took their leave.
“Are you sure you don’t mind us leaving early?” Amelia asked her friend for the twentieth time. “I promised you an entertaining evening, and I am afraid I did not deliver.”
“Any lack was the fault of our hosts and not you, silly,” said Lydia as she made herself comfortable on the velvet seat. “Besides, now we get to complain to everyone who will listen what a dreadful squeeze the masquerade turned out to be, therefore ensuring that the Ton knows we were in attendance.”
“And securing our social cache in the process,” laughed Amelia. “Thank you, darling. We’ll have you home in a trice, and I’m sure your mother will have waited up just to hear all about it.”
“She loathes Lady Jersey, so will delight in learning that her costume made her look ridiculous,” replied Lydia. “Not that she is the least bit spiteful, as she would be the first to tell you!”
“Then I will visit tomorrow afternoon just to tell her how Prinny ogled me right beneath the gaze of her nemesis and flirted outrageously with every married woman and widow in attendance.”
“She’ll adore that,” grinned Lydia. Even in the darkness of the jolting carriage, Amelia could see her friend’s expression turning thoughtful. “I’m sorry that William disappointed you, but I really do think it was a misunderstanding.”
“Let’s not discuss it again, if you please, or else I will be forced to remind you how Lord Conway stared after you like a lost puppy.”
“It’s not the same thing,” complained Lydia but sighed after meeting Amelia’s gaze. “Oh, very well, I will not bring it up again!”
“Thank you,” she said, reaching over to squeeze her best friend’s hand. “I promise, I will talk it all through with you once my thoughts are in order, but that pink champagne has given me a headache already, and I long for my bed!”
“Are you sure you won’t stay with us? There is plenty of room,” replied Lydia. “I don’t like the idea of you driving alone through Hyde Park at such an hour.”
“I hardly think I’m going to run into another high toby this night,” said Amelia, but her friend did not look reassured.
“I don’t know. Grandfather said that Abershawe has been spotted by some of the Bow Street Runners before, and it isn’t safe for a woman to travel alone.”
“I’m not alone. John Coachman is a former soldier and an excellent shot, and my footman is riding beside him. They are both very loyal men who would let nothing happen to me. If anything, I’m more worried about them being hurt in a fall from the carriage than I am of being held up by thieves.”
The carriage began to draw to a halt, having completed the short distance to the Willows’ London residence. There was no further time for conversation, although it was apparent Lydia was in the mood to argue. It was strange how, in the dim glow of the carriage lantern, the young girl looked stern enough to be her own grandfather, or his predecessor, Sir John Fielding.
It’s a pity that women cannot practice law, thought Amelia. Lydia would make an excellent barrister, or even a judge, were it not for the misfortune of her sex.
The carriage door was tugged open by Amelia’s footman, showing that the entrance to the Willows’ home was already wide open, as their butler waited for the daughter of the house to return.
“Go!” shooed Amelia. “You can lecture me about my foolishness tomorrow!”
Lydia muttered something under her breath but took the proffered hand of the footman and allowed him to help her out onto the street. She paused to glare at the poor man, who took a step back despite being a foot taller than the girl in his charge.
“Make sure she returns home safely, or you will have to answer to my grandfather, the Bow Street Magistrate!”
“Yes, Miss Willow,” the footman stammered in response.
“Lydia, stop abusing Phillip and get inside before you catch a chill,” Amelia commanded, laughing loudly at the glare her friend delivered.
The footman closed the carriage door as soon as Lydia was safely indoors, and if Amelia heard Phillip’s muttered assessment of her friend’s character, she did not reprimand him for it.
She adjusted the blanket across her knees and settled her feet back onto the hot brick her servant had so thoughtfully provided. It was not a long drive back to her home, but far enough that she would be able to doze off for a short time before they arrived. The carriage jerked forward, and while the familiar rock and sway did not encourage Amelia to sleep, the quiet allowed her to think about William, the events of the night, and what her next move would be.
*
“Had we any sense at all, we would have stopped to get greatcoats,” complained Killarney as the five friends made their way across the dark fields of Hyde Park.
“It’s not as cold as that,” replied Conway, even though he had tucked his gloved hands into his armpits, allowing his horse to follow the lead of his friends’ mounts across the grass.
“Real highwaymen would wear greatcoats,” continued the marquess, looking mulish. “And now I think about it, lace cuffs seem awfully impractical in a life of crime. On our next robbery, we shall have to find more fitting attire.”
“With luck, this is going to be our only night as desperate criminals,” replied Dook. Unlike the two friends riding to the left of him, he seemed impervious to the damp chill of the night air.
“You believe five thousand can be robbed in one night, mon ami?” asked Louis, who was mounted on the horse Dook had long ago provided for the chevalier’s use. “I do not think we will find people carrying such wealth this night.”
“It’s because of the masquerade,” explained William. Louis turned his head to look at him, silently waiting for more details. “Some of the richest peers in England were in attendance tonight, and most of them determined to outshine every other guest. If the rest of the clubs were as busy as Brooks’s this evening, then we are likely to have five or six targets traveling through the park, each wearing or carrying a king’s ransom in jewels, coins, or even deeds.”
Louis shook his head. “You have learned nothing from France.”
“Not a thing,” said Killarney, oddly cheerful considering the topic, “but I insist that we steal any capes or greatcoats that our targets are wearing. I’ll happily pay anything for the warmth alone, so you can count that toward the total.”
“I don’t think that’s in the rules of the wager,” countered Conway.
“Nonsense! We must earn a thousand pounds apiece, and so that must include the value of any goods we acquire. I’m in the market for a greatcoat, and if I’m willing to pay a monkey for it, then a monkey goes to the total we manage to steal.”
The two of them began to squabble the point, but this was too much for the duke to handle.
“Damn and blast it, if you don’t both hold your tongues this instant, I’ll shoot you dead and claim a market value of five thousand pounds per corpse!”
“I say, there’s no need to be like that,” said Conway, puffing himself up with indignation.