Dark Angel (Gentlemen of the Order 4)

Dante shot to his feet. Blood pounded in his veins. “Has she lost her damn mind? Babington will see through her disguise.” Dante needed leverage, something to trade if Babington were to spill his guts. “I need him to pay with a forged cheque, to leave the house with the ring.”

“Miss Sands has other plans.”

“Devil take it! Do you know what he’ll do to her when he realises it’s a trap? The man has no morals, no scruples.”

“When you refused to answer your door or respond to her missives, she asked for my assistance. I’m to hide in the shadows and bear witness.”

Dante released a torrent of curses.

“You only have yourself to blame,” Sloane said calmly. “You knew she’d been assigned the case. When you failed to inform her what you’d learnt on your trip to Cornhill, she visited that debt-ridden sluggard at the goldsmith shop and obtained details of Mrs Monroe’s appraisal.”

Admiration flickered to life in Dante’s chest. He recalled her determination to have him inspect the books on Babington’s shelf. Miss Sands had many fine qualities, but if he spent any length of time in her company, he was likely to corrupt her soul, ruin her for good.

“May I offer some advice?” Sloane said.

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing this last hour?” Dante mocked.

“Miss Sands is a rather unique woman. You cannot control her or cast her aside as you might do other women of your acquaintance. She will solve this case without you, likely find the man who killed her father. Vengeance will be hers, not yours.”

“The woman has the will of the gods,” Dante complained.

“Help her. Work with her. And I’m confident you will both find a way out of this nightmare.”

Dante thought to fill his glass with brandy, but instead dropped into the chair and sighed. “Marriage has changed you, my friend, made you more philosophical, if not a little preachy.”

Sloane smiled. “Love has changed me. Vivienne deserves a man of good sense, not a drunken buffoon who plays at being a pirate.”

“Am I the only agent left who indulges in vices?”

“At present.” Sloane’s lips curled into a sly smile before he took a long sip of his brandy. “Though I doubt it will remain that way for long.”

* * *

Having crept into the hall of Mrs Monroe’s modest townhouse in Newman Street, Dante watched through the narrow gap in the door as Miss Sands invited Mr Babington to sit. She’d donned a white wig, a sheer black veil that blurred her delicate features, and widow’s weeds—though the snug spencer had only drawn Dante’s attention to the fullness of her breasts.

“You must forgive me, sir, but I had to let my housekeeper go when poor Wilfred died. My maid is so behind in her duties she is slow to respond to the bell.” Miss Sands’ voice quivered with nerves, but she brought her lace handkerchief to her nose and sniffed. “It is still difficult to believe he’s gone.”

“I understand, madam, but do not concern yourself. I took refreshment at my club.” Babington was all kindness and consideration. “There is no need to trouble your maid.”

“You are most obliging, Mr Greaves.”

Greaves was the name Babington offered upon his arrival, the name he’d used to defraud his other victims.

“I would have preferred not to receive house calls, but needs must,” Miss Sands continued, sounding desperately forlorn. “One must eat despite one’s suffering.”

“Indeed.”

A strained silence ensued. Babington did not wish to appear too eager to make his purchase, and Miss Sands wished to drag more information from the unsuspecting man’s lips.

“You must know that to part with such a precious item breaks my heart.” Miss Sands made a little whimper. “Tell me your story, sir. Tell me you plan to give my beautiful ring to someone special who will treasure it as I have.”

Babington cleared his throat. “It’s a gift for my wife. A gift to celebrate the recent birth of our son.”

Lying bastard!

“Then I hope it is to your satisfaction, sir, for I can rest knowing it will be a gift given out of love.”

Miss Sands was somewhat naive. Gifts were given for ulterior motives. They were peace-making trophies. Objects to assuage a man’s guilt. Bribes. Only once had he seen a gift given with honest affection.