Dangerous Gentlemen Page 15

  Bitterly he realized now it had all been to secure what she and her cohorts believed he had—evidence that would convict him of an illegal association of which he was innocent. Now once again she was trying to play him for a fool.

  “I admired you from afar and then…I loved you.” She sniffed. “I still do. I did not sacrifice anything I was not at least secretly willing to give. But now Araminta has taken it upon herself to do what I had intended on your behalf and she has disappeared.” She glanced toward the window. “The day is closing in and I need to find her before a terrible scandal possibly erupts. That’s why I’m here.”

  “To find Araminta? My dear,” he shook his head, “your sister holds even less interest for me than you do. So please, suspend all this dramatic talk about what you’d intended to do on my behalf. The kindest thing you can do for me right now is simply to pull down that hideous veil and take yourself off to your comfortable home and never trouble me again.”

  “Araminta has disappeared and if she’s not with you, I fear she’s with Lord Debenham.”

  “Doing what you failed to do, my dear?”

  She shook her head wildly. “No! Will you please listen to me without all these snide interjections that make me realize you have absolutely no idea what is going on and who is in jeopardy as a result?”

  For the first time, a kernel of doubt crept into the recesses of his skeptical mind.

  She put her hands to her face and in agitation began to pace. “It so happens,” she said, “that my lady’s maid is sweetheart to Lord Debenham’s valet. I had no idea of this until two nights ago when she told me a secret the young man had told her.” Miss Henrietta swung around in orange-water-scented dudgeon. “It was about a letter he had taken, written by your late wife, which he had found in Lord Debenham’s library.”

  He felt the blood drain from his head and reached for the mantelpiece to steady himself. Was she laughing at him?

  No, it appeared she really was serious.

  “Margaret truly wrote a letter?” he whispered. “When she died?”

  Miss Henrietta nodded. Her expression softened and when she placed a tentative hand on his coat sleeve he did not shake it off.

  With difficulty he asked, “What did it say?”

  “I cannot say.” She gave a frustrated sigh. “Lord Debenham’s valet Jem has it in his possession but he cannot read. He simply assumed it contained things Lord Debenham wouldn’t want made public and he’s been using it as blackmail against his master. The fact Lord Debenham is afraid of it being made public is borne up by the fact that Jem has kept his job, and it appears Lord Debenham is careful to keep him onside.”

  Sir Aubrey stroked his chin, thinking. Finally, he said, “Well, it can’t have contained anything of any moment if this lad has simply kept the letter.”

  Miss Hetty put her head on one side. “Jem is a very handsome young man but I do not think he is particularly clever or cunning.” She almost spoke to him as if she felt he, too, could be similarly categorized. “For a start, he knew he’d done something wrong in taking the letter—”

  “Damn right he did! Who was the letter for? Me? Margaret’s lover? How did he come by it? If he took it from Margaret’s…body…then it’s a hanging offense.”

  “My maid says her young man stole it from Debenham after he foolishly fell asleep with the letter beside him.”

  He looked at her, impressed. She really had done her research.

  Hetty nodded as she went on. “Since he couldn’t read he simply pocketed it, hoping to secure his own livelihood as valet to Lord Debenham.”

  “So he simply kept the letter? Hidden and unread for nearly two years?”

  Miss Henrietta nodded. “It would appear so.”

  “Then how has your sister become involved in all this? She doesn’t appear the sleuth you are, Miss Henrietta…to whom I am now beginning to feel more favorably.”

  She graced him with a beatific smile. “That’s good, for my motivation in all this has been to make you beholden to me.”

  “So I would marry you?” Self-disgust curdled in his lower belly and he turned away. But not before he saw the flicker of dismay that crossed her face.

  She thrust out her chin as she moved in front of him. “I never expected that.” Her voice shook. “I never expected to make a match that would please me, so I certainly never expected you would look twice at me. And I was proved right, for you danced many times with Araminta but never with me.”

  “I never saw you!”

  “No one ever sees me beside Araminta. She’s the beauty of the family. Beside her I’m a pale, dreary wallflower. Then, when I fell into danger with you, I was suddenly presented with an offer I couldn’t refuse. The chance to feel what it was like to be the object of a man’s interest. Oh, I knew that I was going to burn in hell for my sins and that you thought you were paying me but that was better, I believed, than marrying Mr. Woking.”

  He shuddered. “Mr. Roderick Woking. Good god, yes! So you’re telling me you chose sin and pleasure with me over respectable marriage with Mr. Woking?” He gave her a wry smile. “I think most ladies would have.”

  “This is no time for being a joker!”

  “My apologies,” he murmured, resisting the urge to put a conciliatory arm about her shoulders for fear it would lead to more than he was prepared to risk. “However I think we’re straying off the most important subject at hand, and that is how your sister came to be involved in all this.”

  “The most important matter is where she is. She took my place when she learned I was to meet Jem at a secret location. He showed her the letter. Then, according to her companion, she disappeared between leaving the booth where they were talking and the street.”

  “Very curious, as is the fact that I’m the last to know of a letter stolen from my late wife.” He looked at her darkly. “I hope this is not a competition between two sisters for my affections, to see who can restore the letter to me first and so win my hand?”

  She had the grace to blush while a curious emotion churned within him. This, to all intents, virtuous young lady had risked everything for a few moments of pleasure. Then when exposure appeared likely, she pounced upon a means to clear his name so that he would reward her with…his.

  Yes, he was suspicious. The sudden appearance of this letter was too convenient. Miss Henrietta was clearly the mistress of subterfuge despite her innocent looks. The more he considered the thought, the more it seemed plausible that she had invented the whole thing and the letter would prove a forgery. Now she was here on the pretext of a missing sister, to urge him into the drama and so achieve her ends—his eternal gratitude.

  Nevertheless, if a letter existed, and whether it was a forgery or not, he had to lay claim to it.

  * * * * *

  Araminta pulled the hood of her dark cloak farther down her face and hunched her shoulders while she waited for Lord Debenham to issue out of his club. Hopefully he’d choose to walk the short distance to his home rather than take his carriage. She shivered, as much from apprehension as excitement, for an unmarried young woman courted ruin if she were to be seen approaching a gentleman in this manner. Never had she taken such risks before but with her ordered world in such sudden turmoil, drastic measures were needed.

  “Lord Debenham, I must speak with you.” She caught a glimpse of his shocked face when he realized her identity but forestalled him, saying, “A hackney is just passing. Please help me in. What I have to say will only take a minute.”

  He acceded to her request but appeared angry as he faced her across the dim interior. “What kind of ruse is this, Miss Partington? If we were discovered your reputation would be in tatters and I would be called upon to do the honorable thing.”

  “Your reputation is about to be in tatters and it is I who am doing the honorable thing.” She smiled, thinking herself rather clever to have delivered such a line.

  It certainly made its mark, for he narrowed his eyes and muttered, “Well, then?
”

  She gave a deep sigh. “Lord Debenham, I have long admired you, not least for your integrity.”

  “What is this, Miss Partington? A rehearsed speech? Has someone put you up to this? Am I about to be blackmailed?”

  Crossly she said, “Well, it did take rather a long time to learn that line off by heart but as to being blackmailed, you certainly will be if what I’m about to tell you becomes known in public circles.”

  His face contorted for a moment before, in a low voice, he asked, “What are you talking about?”

  There. Now he was paying her the attention he ought.

  Demurely, she clasped her hands in her lap and dropped her eyes. “It concerns a certain letter, Lord Debenham.”

  Venturing a glance at his face in the lengthening silence, she saw both fear and suspicion as he muttered, “What letter is this?

  “The letter your valet Jem has in his possession.”

  She was unprepared for his sudden movement. It was as if he had been mortally wounded, the way he jerked back against the squabs.

  “It exists?”

  Araminta nodded. “I saw it just half an hour ago. Apparently when my sister learned of its existence, she made an arrangement with your valet to look at it. My sister, it transpires, has lost her heart to Sir Aubrey and I believe it was her intention to take the letter to him.”

  She saw as they passed beneath a street lamp that he’d gone very pale. Raking a hand through his hair, he whispered, “Who, other than you, has read that letter and where is it now?”

  “I’m the only one, Lord Debenham, and Jem has the letter since he wouldn’t give it to me, despite all my inducements.”

  “What inducements were those, might I ask?”

  “He wanted two guineas for it but unfortunately I had only half a crown. Apparently you never offered him a groat.”

  He uttered an expletive she clearly wasn’t intended to hear. Then, “So you’re blackmailing me, Miss Partington? Perhaps you and this valet of mine? He says I never offered him a groat? Ha! He only ever hinted at knowing more about matters than might be desirable. He was obviously frightened, knowing I’d have the law on my side if he were found guilty of stealing.”

  Araminta widened her eyes. “Good gracious, my lord, I only want to help you! It was very unfortunate I didn’t have more to offer your man and so be able to hand over the letter to you now. You really would want to have it as Lady Margaret says terrible things about you. However, I am nothing more than an innocent debutante.” She sent him a knowing look and went on with a sigh, “Hoping to make a good match. As I said, I’ve long admired you, Lord Debenham.” She lowered her eyes.

  Initially he did not respond as she’d expected. After a long, tense silence, he leaned forward and clasped one of her hands. “Clearly you are a young lady who thrives on risk,” he said softly.

  For a moment she thought he might brush her lips with his and wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed he did not. She’d been attracted to him when she first had met him but subsequent tales of his exploits had been more than usually graphic and had put her off. Nevertheless, her confidence was in the ascendant now. She knew that successful handling of a gentleman could be managed by allure, which she possessed in abundance.

  “Do you recall what else it mentioned, Miss Partington?”

  She felt a trifle nervous at the intensity of his look but managed a bold smile.

  “Only about your club, my Lord.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “My club?”

  “The Spencean Club.”

  Something flared in the depths of his eyes, then, relaxing back against the squabs, he said almost genially, “I trust you can insinuate your way back inside your home and keep silent about this afternoon’s activities,” his eyes bored into hers as he added with exciting portent, “if there is to be a desirable outcome from our little interview.”

  Araminta wasn’t sure Lord Debenham had been suitably grateful. When she looked at him, he was gazing at the ceiling as if she didn’t exist. “If that’s all the thanks I get, Lord Debenham—” she began but he cut her off.

  “I did not mean to make you angry.” His attention was fully upon her now. She noticed his breathing was rather rapid and his eyes looked fevered.

  Good, she thought, satisfied that the promise of her affections was finally having the desired effect.

  “It is a rare opportunity to be in such close proximity to a lady.” He swallowed. “A potential savior. You have been very good to me and I intend to reward you as you deserve. May I be so bold as to beg a kiss?”

  She felt like the cat who had swallowed the cream, raising her face delicately to his and saying, “It is a great risk we take, Lord Debenham, for if we are caught the consequences would be very dire.”

  Already he was closing in on her, his arms wrapping about her shoulders, his breath tickling her ear. She shuddered at the extraordinary responses of her body and part of her realized the element of danger was an aphrodisiac in itself. She’d never felt this roiling in her lower belly or the heightened sensitivity of her skin as he caressed her cheek with his lips.

  “I might have to offer to marry you, Miss Partington,” he whispered, touching his lips to hers.

  She let out her breath in a satisfied sigh, surrendering completely to the lust that enveloped her, disappointed when he set her away from him and reached over to open the door.

  But his parting words as he raised her hand for his kiss were just what she was after. “If I were called upon to do as honor dictated it would not be a hardship, Miss Partington.”

  Just before he closed the door between them, he slipped a five-pound note into her hand. “If you can get that letter for me, I will ensure that you are appropriately rewarded. But let us not part when we have no plans to meet again. What say you this evening, at Lady Scott’s ball? I know the house well. There is a door hidden behind the tapestry on the rear saloon wall. Impossible to miss if you know what you’re looking for. On the stroke of midnight I will be waiting in the withdrawing room. It is the second door on the corridor at right angles to the ladies’ mending room. Perhaps we might then discuss in private your progress in obtaining this letter.” He tipped his hat. “That is, unless we are in the fortunate position of perusing it together.”

  Satisfied, Araminta stepped from the carriage. Sir Aubrey had been short with her when she’d hinted at being in a position to please him soon, so it would serve him right if she bestowed her favors upon Lord Debenham instead. And while Jane was not the only one to have relayed some disturbing stories about His Lordship, passed on to her by Jem, he was a viscount, with an earldom in sight. Why, if she played her cards right and luck was on her side, she might one day become a duchess.

  Still, Sir Aubrey was a great deal more personable. He was handsome and there was something roguishly appealing about his manner, but he was not as rich as Lord Debenham, which was sad. Nor, lately, had he been as responsive.

  Really, she’d just have to wait and see how far the two gentlemen were prepared to reward her when all was said and done.

  * * * * *

  Hetty, alert to any sound that suggested Araminta’s return, burst into their bedchamber shortly after she heard her sister’s stealthy tread along the corridor.

  “Where have you been?” she cried. “I’ve been nearly mad with worry. What did you think you were doing, going in my stead to see Jane’s beau? Oh, don’t look at me like that! I know very well what you’ve done and now you’re coming downstairs with me to explain to Sir Aubrey.”

  Filled with relief and righteous anger, Hetty succeeded in dragging her sister into the drawing room which was, thankfully, empty of her parents, her mother still preparing herself for dinner and her father not having been seen since his morning walk.

  Sir Aubrey rose when she entered and Hetty’s heart clutched at the cool look on his face. Then Araminta swept into the room with the confidence of a queen and Hetty felt painful jealousy seep into her v
eins as her sister murmured, “Good afternoon, Sir Aubrey, what a surprise to see you here at such an unfashionable hour. I hope you won’t object if I excuse myself shortly to dress.” She sent him a regal smile. “I was late back from a walk with my Cousin Stephen and I fear my papa, who is a stickler for the proprieties, will be peevish if I do not present myself at the dinner table on time.”

  “You’ve been to see Jem and you’ve been gone more than two hours!” Hetty cried.

  Araminta sent her a maddeningly self-contained look of inquiry. “Jem?”

  “You were on a clandestine mission.” With difficulty Hetty reined in her ire. “I know everything and I know you saw what was written in that letter. Do you realize how dangerous this path is you’ve taken?”

  Araminta examined her finely shaped fingernails. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hetty. Who is Jem and what letter is this you speak of?”

  Sir Aubrey took a step forward and, to Hetty’s outrage and despair, took Araminta’s hand, turning her to look at him. “I believe damaging allegations were made in that letter, Miss Partington.” His tone was far too intimate for Hetty’s liking. “Allegations regarding Lord Debenham’s allegiance to his country, not to mention the writer’s own feelings toward her husband. Perhaps you’d do me the great service of divulging what the letter contained.”

  Araminta smiled into his eyes. “Have no fear, Sir Aubrey, you were well spoken of by the writer, who felt only remorse. So sad,” she added on a sigh, closing the gap an inch with no regard for Hetty. Or perhaps with only too much, for her sister enjoyed goading her and she was aware of Hetty’s feelings for Sir Aubrey.

  “We really need to have possession of this letter, Miss Partington.”

  “Jem has it.”

  Angrily, Hetty said, “You’ve put Jem in danger, don’t you know? Jane came to me not five minutes ago in great agitation, saying she’d had word from one of Lord Debenham’s servants that Jem has gone missing.”