Mistress of Scandal (Greentree Sisters 3)

“You know, don’t you?” he said quietly. He was watching her closely. “You know who I am?”

She closed her eyes. “I know it is a shame you cannot face the truth. How can Francesca be true to herself if you are not?”

“Francesca has a will of her own, Madame, and I cannot sway it.”

Her eyes opened, fever bright. “But there are ways of bending her to your will, Mr. Thorne. My daughter is very like her father. She is not at all proper, oh no, no matter what she believes. She wants adventure. To experience life through adventure. The more risky…the more risqué, the better.” She smiled. “You can help her to do that. You can show her how to be true to herself.”

He sighed. “Can I?”

“Oui. You can make her very happy.”

Sebastian smiled. He had the sort of smile women swooned for. She beckoned him closer to the bed.

“Tell me, Mr. Thorne, have you ever made love to a woman at a ball?”

Sebastian closed the door softly behind him. Aphrodite was asleep. He was rattled, he admitted it. Give him a thief or a murderer, and put them in a dark alley, and he was right at home. But Aphrodite had crept under his guard. She knew who he was, what he was. She knew about Francesca.

Thinking over what she’d said, he wondered if he would have the courage to do it. He was Mr. Thorne, the man no one wanted to admit to hiring, the man from the shadows. How, he thought bleakly, could he attend a London society ball?

“There you are.”

Surprised, he looked up. She was standing with her hands on her hips. “I thought you were supposed to be a cultured courtesan,” he said, amused, and glad of a respite from his own uneasy musings. “You look more like a disgruntled fishwife.”

“I am.” In a moment she’d changed from fishwife to seductress, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “I like this place,” she said. “Plenty of food and nice soft beds. And they only let the better toffs in. Some gent slapped one of the girls the other day, and now he’s barred from ’ere altogether.”

“You mean you’d leave Dipper?” he mocked.

She grinned. “Nah. Dipper’s special.”

“So, Polly, tell me…what have you found out for me?”

She gave a wriggle, preparing to tell her story. He crossed his arms and prepared to listen, not expecting very much. But, after she had finished her tale, Sebastian was no longer in the mood to be amused.

“We need to find Dobson, and then you’re going to tell him exactly what you’ve just told me.”

“He’ll be in the salon. Now Madame’s ill, he’s doing his best to keep things running as she’d like them. He’s a good man, Jemmy Dobson, and he loves her truly.”

Dobson, when they found him, was looking both harassed and worried. He was a man whose whole world had just turned upside down. At first he was loath to leave the salon, but Sebastian persuaded him that it was extremely important he hear what Sebastian had to say, and ushered him into Aphrodite’s office.

The room was still scented with roses and her perfume.

“What is it then?” Dobson demanded, running a hand over his jaw. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for days. “I ain’t got long, so tell me quick as you can.”

“First I need you to speak to someone.” Sebastian went to the door and beckoned Polly in.

Dobson’s eyes narrowed. “What’s this then? Louisa? Shouldn’t you be in the salon?”

“Her name is Polly, and she works for me. I’m sorry to be underhanded, Dobson, but when I spoke to Aphrodite about the possibility of there being a spy in her club, she wouldn’t believe me. Polly has been keeping an eye on things and listening for any useful information. I want you to hear what she has to say.”

Dobson looked as if he’d rather not, but he nodded brusquely. Polly began to tell her story, and as she went on, his face grew whiter and more strained. By the time she’d finished he was shattered.

“Poison,” he said, and swallowed, pulling himself together. “What sort of poison?”

“We’re going to have to ask the poisoner that.”

“Aye,” he said grimly, “I intend to.” When he looked back at Sebastian there were tears in his eyes. “I only hope it ain’t too late. If she dies…I might as well be dead, too.”

“She’s a strong woman. A fighter.”