As if a locked door could hold her.
“You really are clueless at times, my friend.”
“You’re one to speak.
Quite right. Warrick raised his bottle and clinked it against Saville’s. “To clueless friends.”
“Hear, hear,” Saville said before tossing back liquid in this throat. “Ah, I love the sting.” He looked to Warrick. “Anyone pinch your arse lately?”
“Don’t bring up that bloody experience.” Another swallow burned down his throat. “What about you? You seemed quite taken with Lady Theodosia. Haveyouperhaps fallen in love with the chit?”
“What the devil are you talking about? That woman drives me mad.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t care for her.” Just look at him. He had fallen head over heels for his own tormentor. “And youarestill following her around.”
Saville blew out a breath. “No, I’m not. Not since her birthday.”
That surprised Warrick. “Why not?”
His friend lifted his shoulders in a heavy shrug. “We set out to protect the heiress from the scum of London crawling out of the crevices.”
Warrick nodded. “The consequences of the list.”
“Yes, well, there are no longer fortune hunters sniffing around her skirts. She doesn’t need my help.”
“The lady is a force to be reckoned with,” Warrick agreed.
“How the hell do I know what love feels like, anyway?” Saville muttered. “At the very least it should feel good. It’s love, after all.”
“I’m not sure ifgoodis the word I’d use to describe the sentiment.”
“Then what word would you use?”
“Not a word,” Warrick said, contemplating his next sentence. “Rather, I’d describe giving my heart to someone feeling like I did the first time I raced my phaeton against you across Hyde Park at full speed. Only, I am not holding the reins. She is. It’s both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.”
“Bloody hell, are you drunk already?” Saville glanced at the contents of his bottle before looking back at the Thames. “It should still feel good. Poets are always going on about it.”
“You haven’t read a single page of poetry have you?”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
“Never mind,” Warrick said. Hopeless. Why wouldn’t these Savages read? “And who are you calling drunk? I can go all night.”
“Then whoever is overcome first has to carry the other to the carriage.”
“Are you a bloody child?”
Saville shot him a glare. “Why yes, I am a child. I am infantile, remember? Besides, are you afraid you won’t be able to carry this child?”
He shouldn’t have said anything.Just ignore it.“Then you are planning on being overcome first?”
Saville snorted. “Of course. I’ve got half a bottle on you already. Unless you plan to pour half down your throat now.”
“No, I—”
A woman’s laughter interrupted him, followed by, “Well, well, well, whatever do we have here?”
Warrick shot a glance over his shoulder, his brow furrowing at the appearance of four cloaked figures. Three wore black cloaks. One wore a sickening shade of red. It reminded him of blood. By their stature, they were all women. A sense of foreboding filled the space between the beats of his heart pounding in his chest. The secret club?
