The Daring Miss Darcy (Lost Ladies of London 4)

“What grievance do you have with him?”

“Cornell orchestrated Lillian’s ruination.” Vane went on to tell Estelle about the events two years ago, about how Lord Martin offered marriage, took what he wanted and then boarded the next ship to France. “Fabian threatened Cornell when he discovered the truth about his involvement.”

Estelle fell silent.

“I have hurt Fabian, too, haven’t I?”

Vane refused to lie to her. “Yes, but he believes you left because of something I did. He’s blamed me for years. We fought about it only a few weeks ago.” Fists had flown. Threats were exchanged.

“Then I shall have to correct his misconception.”

“We could travel to the island. Your brother deserves to know you’re alive and well.” And time away from London would give them an opportunity to make plans for the future. “Though I should warn you, his men are somewhat brash and unconventional.”

“You forget I’ve spent four years with a gang of smugglers.” She chuckled, but the sound lacked any genuine amusement.

It was his turn to fall silent. Vane pushed all thoughts of her time in Wissant from his mind, lest it torment him.

“What will you do about Lady Cornell?” Estelle asked. “You cannot permit her to continue in this outrageous manner.”

In truth, he didn’t know. When he married Estelle — and he would marry her — perhaps it would bring an end to her obsession.

Vane was about to answer when a knock on the door commanded his attention.

What the hell did Marley want at this hour? Perhaps the butler had discovered the broken glass on the floor and feared an intruder.

“I should attend to that,” he said.

In spite of his nakedness, Vane strode to the door, opened it ajar and peered at his butler. “What is it, Marley?”

“Forgive the disturbance, my lord, but Wickett insisted I give you this at once.” He handed Vane a letter. The burgundy wax seal meant it wasn’t from Mr Joseph.

Vane took the letter. “Wait here a moment.” He closed the door, broke the seal and strode over to the lit candelabra to read the missive. He read it twice. Not because it was illegible, but because he couldn’t quite believe what he was reading.

“Is there something wrong?” A frown marred Estelle’s brow.

“Here, you may read it for yourself.”

She took the letter and muttered as she absorbed the words. “Lord Cornell wants to meet with you at this hour? Do you think he discovered his wife came here this evening?”

“I doubt it is a coincidence.” Vane cursed inwardly. After their earlier conversation, no doubt Lady Cornell told him where she had been and what she had discovered in the process.

“Why would he ask to meet you at the museum? Is it not closed?”

“Cornell works closely with the curators. Quite often he sources new pieces and rearranges displays. When it comes to antiquities and the study of ancient cultures, there is not a man in London more knowledgeable.” He hated paying the scoundrel a compliment.

“And he works there this late?” Her voice held a nervous edge.

“He’s been known to work through the night on many occasions.” Vane returned to address his butler. “Have Wickett ready the carriage. I shall be down as soon as I’m dressed.”

“Shall I wake Pierre, my lord?”

“No. I’ll see to things myself.” The last thing he wanted was the Frenchman stumbling upon the naked woman in his bed.

Vane closed the door. He could sense Estelle’s anxiety before he turned to face her.

“You’re not going?” She climbed out of bed and came to stand before him in all her wondrous glory.

He drank in the sight of her soft breasts, of the gentle flare of her hips. He stared at her in awe, in lust, in love. “I must.”