ight with his world.
Hell and damnation he was in trouble!
13
Dante took the steps two at a time up to Viscount Sterling’s townhouse. He rapped on the door and it was quickly opened by the butler. “Good morning, Mr. Rose. Miss Sanford is expecting you in the drawing room. If you will follow me.”
Two days had passed since the end of the house party. Dante had spent that time working at the club so Driscoll could take a break and spend time with his wife. Lydia had worked on the books both nights and it had been no surprise to Dante that she did the work quickly, clearly, and efficiently.
Just another thing to admire about the woman.
Lydia might have been expecting him, but it was Lord Sterling who greeted him, with his daughter nowhere in sight. The man stood as Dante entered and held out is hand. “Good morning, Mr. Rose. So nice to see you.”
The older man had retained most of his hair, although it had turned silver over the years. He was fit for his age, which Dante guessed to be somewhere in his fifties.
“Please have a seat. My daughter will be down shortly.”
That gave him pause. It sounded as if Sterling had met him here instead of Lydia for a reason. Dante fidgeted in his seat and ran his finger around the inside of his necktie.
He knew Sterling from the times the man had visited the club. He was a cautious player, never losing more than fifty pounds per visit. He was well liked by the club’s staff and the other club members.
“Would you care for a drink?” Sterling asked.
“No. Thank you, but ‘tis a bit early for me.”
“Coffee?”
It seemed Lydia’s father was planning on making this an actual visit. Dante discreetly checked his timepiece. Their meeting with Sir Phillip was in half an hour. It was about a twenty-minute ride to the man’s residence.
Dante had received the summons from the Home Office contact yesterday afternoon. Once Lydia had arrived later that evening to work on the books, he’d showed it to her.
My Dear Mr. Rose,
I would like to see you and Miss Sanford in my office at eleven tomorrow morning. We must discuss the case.
Sir Phillip DuBois-Gifford
Lydia had returned the note to him. “I wonder what this is about?”
Dante had shrugged and stuck the note into his pocket. “We will find out soon enough.”
He brought his mind back to the present. “No, thank you, my lord. Miss Sanford and I are expected at a meeting. I’m afraid I must decline your offer of coffee.”
Sterling rubbed his hands together. “Yes. The meeting. Lydia told me about it.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. “How goes the investigation?”
Dante was surprised that the man seemed familiar with their assignment. However, always cautious, Dante merely said, “Not as well as we had anticipated, but I’m hoping we will finish up soon.”
Sterling nodded. “Yes. Some of these things can be quite trying.” Out of nowhere the man said, “I understand you punched the Ambassador in the nose for getting out of hand with my daughter.”
Well, then.
The man apparently knew more than Dante had thought. “Yes, my lord. I was uncomfortable with the Ambassador’s actions and when Lydia—er, Miss Sanford—attempted to stop him and he refused, I believe I did what any man would do.”
He nodded again. “Indeed. Thank you for seeing to my daughter, Mr. Rose.”
“I don’t wish to seem rude, my lord, but Miss Sanford and I need to leave shortly if we are to make our meeting on time.”
“Yes, yes.” Lord Sterling slapped his thighs and stood. “I will send for her.” He stuck out his hand and shook it once more. “Nice to see you, lad.”