The Deceptive Lady Darby (Lost Ladies of London 2)

He released the pathetic figure of a man. “You may have the Lord’s forgiveness, but you will never have mine.” Christian threw his entire body weight into a punch that connected hard with Wilmslow’s jaw. The crack echoed through the churchyard. The reverend toppled back and landed between two gravestones.

“That is for hurting my son. Your antics have caused him no end of misery these last two years, and I’ll make sure you’re never allowed to preach to a congregation again.”

“Please, my lord.”

Feeling immense satisfaction and an element of relief, Christian stepped back. “And if I discover you had anything to do with Cassandra’s death, I’ll be back to finish what I’ve started.”

Brushing his hands to show his disdain, he stepped over the reverend’s quivering body and strode down the path.

“My lord! Wait! Will you not listen to my explanation?”

Christian ignored the man’s cries and protests. He had one more call to make, and so mounted his horse and rode to Dr Taylor’s house.

“I’m sorry, my lord, but the doctor got called away on urgent business.” The housekeeper wiped her hands on her apron. “There’s no telling when he’ll be back.”

“Away?” Suspicion flared. “Has he gone to see a patient?”

“No, my lord. He’s gone to London, something to do with a meeting at the Wishful, no, the Worshipful Society of the Apothecaries. He left early yesterday morning.”

Christian swallowed down his surprise. Despite their disagreements, he would have expected the doctor to inform him of his departure.

A strange sense of foreboding took hold.

Was it a coincidence that two people from the same small village had left for London a day after Rose? It seemed there was only one way to find out.

Chapter Eighteen

“What on earth made you think you were in love with Lord Cunningham? Look at him prancing about the floor.” Nicole gestured to the foppish lord dancing the cotillion with Mrs Webster. “I know I’m not a skilled dancer, but I’m sure you’re not supposed to resemble a frog leaping off a lily pad.”

Rose glanced at the man she might have married had her father not intervened. Lord Cunningham’s chin lacked definition, unlike Christian’s strong jaw. And his eyes didn’t cause a lady’s breath to come in shallow pants. Lord Cunningham’s coat didn’t cling to the muscles in his arms, and his thighs barely filled his breeches.

“He has a pleasant temperament.” Rose had to defend her lack of judgement. “I doubt a harsh word ever falls from his lips. A woman could never disappoint a man like that.”

But Lord Cunningham didn’t love her, despite his protestations to the contrary. Unlike Christian, he lacked the capacity to care about anyone but himself.

She’d learnt a lot about love during her brief time at Everleigh. While love lived in the heart, it shone in a man’s eyes and in the sensual curve of his lips. It was present in his passionate kisses, in the way he gazed into a lady’s soul while claiming her body. Some would call it lust. But love didn’t fade. Love remained in the eyes as a constant reminder.

Christian.

Her heart lurched. How was she to forget him when he lived inside her? How was she supposed to smile and dance when a ballroom was the last place she wanted to be? But Oliver insisted they make a stand, to allay suspicion and quell the gossips.

“I can think of only one reason why you imagined an attraction to Lord Cunningham. You wanted to escape your father. Cunningham was an easy way out.” Nicole always understood. “And while I disagree with your father’s method, he saved you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

“I know.” Had her father not intervened, she would not have met Christian. “How ironic that I feel a deep sense of gratitude.”

Nicole cupped Rose’s elbow, and they shuffled back until almost obscured by the giant potted fern. “You would never have known true love had you not escaped from the manor.” Nicole’s comment caught Rose unawares. “And you do love Lord Farleigh.”

“What makes you say that?” Oh, she loved him with all her heart.

Nicole offered a confident smile. “Because now I know what it’s like to be in love.” With a covert flick of the eyes, she looked across the ballroom at Oliver. “I heard it in your voice when you spoke to Lord Farleigh. The fact you cried for two hours when we left Everleigh was telling, too, don’t you think?”

Two hours? She’d cried for days, cried until there were no more tears left to shed.

“And so what I really want to know,” Nicole continued, “is what you intend to do about it?”

“Do?” She could do nothing other than pine for a lost love. “All I can do is help him solve the problems at Everleigh.” To bring him the peace he deserved.

“I’ll not allow you to go snooping around town on your own. If you insist on visiting the places listed in your blue book, then you must take Oliver with you.”