A Gentleman's Curse (Avenging Lords 4)

“So you will stay?”

The doctor nodded. “For the next eight hours at least.”

“Eight hours is all we may have,” Hudson said gravely. “You must do what you can before my cousin returns tomorrow.”

Claudia glanced at the frail figure in the bed. What if there was nothing wrong with the man other than a lack of food and fresh air?

While contemplating that thought, she was drawn to a black mark on the coverlet. She stepped closer to examine the stain.

“Is something wrong?” Hudson asked.

“This mark on the coverlet, what does it look like to you?” She dabbed the strange blotch with the tip of her finger.

Hudson studied the mark for a moment. “It looks like ink.”

“It wasn’t there the last time we called, and the maid hasn’t changed the bedding.”

“It’s dry.” Hudson looked up and met her gaze. “You think it’s relevant?”

“I don’t know. But it is odd.”

“Indeed.” After scouring the room and finding nothing to account for the stain, Hudson turned to the doctor. “We shall return later tonight on our way home. I’ll inform Simmonds to expect us around midnight.”

Claudia frowned. “On our way home?”

Surely he wasn’t planning another trip to Falaura Glen. Lord knows what wonders Dariell had created in their absence. The image of the rotunda flashed into her mind, swiftly followed by the image of a bare chest and the wickedly handsome face of Hudson Lockhart.

“Are we going somewhere?” Claudia asked, desire pulsing in her veins.

“We’re going out.” Hudson smiled. “Did I not promise you a trip to the theatre?”

Chapter Seventeen

“You might have given us more notice,” Drake complained as he tugged the sleeves of his black evening coat and settled into the padded velvet chair in Greystone’s box. “I hate plays almost as much as I hate masquerades.”

“Oh, but this is the first time you’ve brought me to the theatre.” Juliet touched his arm, and the giant softened.

“Then I shall sit quietly,” Drake conceded, “for you must concentrate if you intend to follow this one. It’s a farce made to muddle a man’s mind.”

“That doesn’t mean it will muddle a woman’s mind,” Juliet countered.

Valentine chuckled. “Then you should come to the theatre more often, Drake. Perhaps there’s a play about a man who converses with dogs.”

Drake smirked. “I’d be more interested in one where a wild monkey attacks the patrons.”

Greystone laughed.

“I know how you hate large crowds, Drake. I had but a few hours’ notice myself,” Lockhart explained by way of an apology. He drew out the chair for Claudia and waited for her to sit before dropping into the seat next to her. She wore a sumptuous burgundy gown, another splendid creation that drew his gaze to the soft swell of her breasts.

He had deliberately chosen seats at the rear of the box, behind Devlin Drake. With such a large crowd, it afforded him the privacy to observe the horde unnoticed. The gossips were just as interested in his friends, and so he hoped he might shrink into the shadows.

“I presume you’re

going to tell us why we’re here,” Greystone enquired, though he kept his gaze fixed centre stage.

“I need you to locate Terence and inform me when he leaves the auditorium.” Lockhart had more than a few questions for his brother. He refused to call on Terence while Selina was at home. And having not seen him since the masquerade, he couldn’t help but think his brother was avoiding a second meeting.

Aveline gripped the ivory handle of her opera glasses and studied those in the private boxes opposite. “Oh, Lucius, I see Honora with Mrs Madeley.”