My Duke's Deception (Wicked Lords of London 2)

But the party downstairs held little appeal. Rather than participate, he’d taken himself back to his room with a scotch. Where he found himself contemplating flowers. No wonder he wanted to continue the investigation. He’d perish of boredom without it.

A rattling of his door’s handle, made him blink in surprise. While the moonlight illuminated the garden outside his window, he sat in a dark corner of the room, his gaze trained to the door.

Slowly it swung open and a figure crept in, softly closing the wood-paneled behemoth behind. A quick glance told him it was the person of small stature, though not a child; it didn’t appear to be a man either. Had a woman snuck into his room?

A smile curved one corner of his lips upward. There were a few widows in attendance. Perhaps one was looking for a dalliance. That was just the distraction he needed until Bridgeton arrived.

But she didn’t move toward the bed to arrange herself for his benefit. Instead, she trailed her hand along the wall, finding her way to the dressing table. Her fingers searched along until they reached a candle and then, with fumbling hands, she lit the wax. How curious.

Once the room was illuminated, she began to move the objects on the table about, searching through several of the drawers. Whoever she was, the little chit was searching his room.

Well that simply wouldn’t do.

Rose opened a drawer of the dressing table and let out a little sigh of frustration. Nothing but neatly folded cravats. She supposed that she hadn’t really expected to find her mother’s jewels tucked between his neckties but still. Couldn’t there be some evidence that Lord Addington was the thief the entire country believed him to be?

In fairness, not everyone believed that. Some just thought he was a fool who

’d allowed his debts to entangle him in a scandal.

Deep down, she didn’t think that was true. She’d been studying him the past few days and she knew, with absolute certainty that he was far too intelligent to have been the fool. His comments were too perfectly witty, his expressions full of understanding. In fact, she’d wager, not that she ever did, he was one of the masterminds of the thieving operation and only pretended to be a hapless victim to keep himself out of trouble.

Rose would need proof, however, and to get it, she’d snuck into his room while everyone else was downstairs attending a dinner. She knew it was risky. Her reputation as a lady of quality had remained untarnished to this point, and while she hoped to keep it that way, she was willing to risk everything to get answers.

A lock of her thick blonde hair fell over her shoulder and she pushed it back, sighing in frustration as she did. How would she ever find her mother’s lost diamonds like this? And she had to find them. They’d been one of the few items that her mother had from her mother, and then passed down to her upon her mother’s death.

They’d been sent to her father’s solicitor for appraisal. Some weeks later, they’d been informed that the jewels were gone. Stolen without a clue as to where.

Days later, the solicitor, Mr. Stanley Winters, along with the Marquess of Highwater, were arrested by the Bow Street Runners and tossed into the tower for systematically stealing and reselling valuables. Some even belonging to the Prince Regent himself.

But many of the thieves and buyers were still at large. The ton could talk of little else besides the scandal and every tea party, ball, and picnic she attended, new theories about who else was involved abounded. But the name on almost everyone’s tongue was Lord William Addington.

Rose had convinced her father to accept the invitation from Lord and Lady Pennwalt, knowing full well that Addington was on the guest list. Everyone within society knew he’d be here and while they’d all shuddered to think of socializing with him, they all secretly wanted to attend.

Rose and her father had arrived the day before yesterday and Addington was already in attendance. She’d thought of him so often, she supposed she created an image of him in her mind. Short, with a long nose and beady eyes, perhaps he’d worn spectacles. He was likely a bit overweight and most assuredly hunched.

Nothing had prepared her for the man she actually met. Tall and broad, his square jaw and piercing eyes would intimidate even the bravest among them. His dark hair was longer than was fashionable and its soft waves, along with his full lips, softened an otherwise hard man. He was devilishly handsome and she’d found herself looking at him a good deal more than was necessary, which was saying a lot considering that she came here to investigate him.

A wardrobe stood in the corner and she moved toward it, holding up her candle. She didn’t know exactly what she looking for but any piece of evidence she might be able use to blackmail him into returning the jewels would do.

In her mind she’d tried to picture herself actually completing that conversation. He had to be more than six feet and strongly muscled. While she was of average height at best, no one had ever accused her of being intimidating. Then there was the fact that her heart beat wildly in his presence and her tongue tied every time she drew near him. Which had likely proved an asset over the past few days. She was so quiet in his presence that he had yet to notice her existence. But were she to confront him, that would be a different matter entirely.

She opened the door to the wardrobe and searched the walls for a latch or hidden door that might reveal some secret. Finding none, she began to search the pockets of the coats hanging within.

“I beg you not to crease them. My valet will pitch a fit if they have to be repressed.” A deep voice rumbled from the corner.

She gave a cry and dropped the candle she held. It thumped to the floor and bounced, the flame hitting her dress and immediately sparking on the lace overlay.

Dear lord, she was on fire. Rose cried out and tried to spin about to find some way to put out the flame but her motion just seemed to turn the sparks to actual fire as her dress lit.

Horror made her freeze in place. “What have I done?” she cried, not knowing what else to do.

In the next moment, strong arms had wrapped about her and she watched, completely speechless, as large hands deftly rubbed the folds of her gown together to snuff out the flames.

Even more astonishing, those hands patted their way up her body. There was nothing frightening in their touch but no man had ever touched her so. Surely it was fear, but she could hardly catch her breath.

“Are you all right?” The deep voice asked.

“Yes, I believe that I am.” She turned slowly in the arms that were still holding her and found she stared directly into a very large chest. As her chin tilted back her eyes travelled up the rather muscular column of a man’s neck, over a terribly manly jaw up the straight nose, and into the piercing eyes of Lord Addington.