Dangerous Gentlemen (Daughters of Sin 2)

“I would never have given myself to any other man!” she cried. “I told you the reasons. But perhaps I was too glad of an excuse to give myself to you when you were the only man I’d…I’d felt any little bit of feeling for.”

“That’s as may be…at the start,” Sir Aubrey muttered, thinking of how appealing she’d appeared when he’d first taken her, trembling but oh so eager, into his embrace. “What about your feelings for Lord Debenham? I found you in his arms, too, don’t forget.” He knew he was being unfair but he had to make her hate him.

“If you are so off the mark as regards to my thoughts on Lord Debenham then you have absolutely no idea as to what danger my sister could be in.” She looked ready to claw his eyes out. “You think I’d go willingly to your…enemy? Why, I…I abhor the man!” She took what he assumed were meant to be menacing steps toward him while he stood his ground, willing her to give up the fight at the same time as hoping she’d hurl herself into his arms.

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He shrugged. “What am I to think? Disciples of Venus do not seek out men they love.” He snorted the word with derision. “When you threw yourself at me with such feeling after I supposedly rescued you from Debenham, I was quite touched. I certainly was not suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” She looked at him askance. “I told you the truth when I said he attacked me. Are you really unaware of my feelings and what I’ve been trying to do for you?”

He laughed out loud at this. “My avenging little angel, are you, Miss Henrietta Partington, daughter of a viscount and cousin to a man who has accepted conventional wisdom that I am a villain. Oh, I’ve heard it all. The whispers that I’m a wife-beater, a man who chased Margaret into the arms of another when my brutality could no longer be borne. There’s worse, of course, and I had, until recently, assumed you would know nothing of that, however your cozy association with Lord Debenham has persuaded me otherwise.”

She looked confused but poised for attack.

“Now that I see what circles you frequent, I understand how very useful you might be to those enemies of mine who are trying to secure the evidence needed to convict me of crimes of which the court of gossip long since convicted me.”

She nodded. “The Castlereagh affair. Some think you a Spencean. That you should swing.”

Now it was his turn to be both surprised but, more, disappointed. “So you’re well versed in the story, are you? That’s what you were looking for when I discovered you in my bedchamber, isn’t it? Evidence to convict me. You’d been sent by your cousin, or perhaps Lord Debenham.” Disappointment burned him within. He gave a short laugh. “You were so terrified I truly was guilty you sacrificed your virtue, thinking I might take your life. Well, the joke is on you, Miss Henrietta, because you will find no evidence. You sacrificed your virtue for nothing.”

“That’s not true!” she cried, rushing forward, and for one glorious moment he thought she really was going to throw herself into his embrace. How much easier it would be to proceed if the passion were elevated. They were well matched. Or so he had thought.

Bitterly he realized now it had all been to secure what she and her cohorts believed he had—evidence that would convict him of an illegal association of which he was innocent. Now once again she was trying to play him for a fool.

“I admired you from afar and then…I loved you.” She sniffed. “I still do. I did not sacrifice anything I was not at least secretly willing to give. But now Araminta has taken it upon herself to do what I had intended on your behalf and she has disappeared.” She glanced toward the window. “The day is closing in and I need to find her before a terrible scandal possibly erupts. That’s why I’m here.”

“To find Araminta? My dear,” he shook his head, “your sister holds even less interest for me than you do. So please, suspend all this dramatic talk about what you’d intended to do on my behalf. The kindest thing you can do for me right now is simply to pull down that hideous veil and take yourself off to your comfortable home and never trouble me again.”

“Araminta has disappeared and if she’s not with you, I fear she’s with Lord Debenham.”

“Doing what you failed to do, my dear?”

She shook her head wildly. “No! Will you please listen to me without all these snide interjections that make me realize you have absolutely no idea what is going on and who is in jeopardy as a result?”

For the first time, a kernel of doubt crept into the recesses of his skeptical mind.

She put her hands to her face and in agitation began to pace. “It so happens,” she said, “that my lady’s maid is sweetheart to Lord Debenham’s valet. I had no idea of this until two nights ago when she told me a secret the young man had told her.” Miss Henrietta swung around in orange-water-scented dudgeon. “It was about a letter he had taken, written by your late wife, which he had found in Lord Debenham’s library.”

He felt the blood drain from his head and reached for the mantelpiece to steady himself. Was she laughing at him?

No, it appeared she really was serious.

“Margaret truly wrote a letter?” he whispered. “When she died?”

Miss Henrietta nodded. Her expression softened and when she placed a tentative hand on his coat sleeve he did not shake it off.

With difficulty he asked, “What did it say?”

“I cannot say.” She gave a frustrated sigh. “Lord Debenham’s valet Jem has it in his possession but he cannot read. He simply assumed it contained things Lord Debenham wouldn’t want made public and he’s been using it as blackmail against his master. The fact Lord Debenham is afraid of it being made public is borne up by the fact that Jem has kept his job, and it appears Lord Debenham is careful to keep him onside.”

Sir Aubrey stroked his chin, thinking. Finally, he said, “Well, it can’t have contained anything of any moment if this lad has simply kept the letter.”

Miss Hetty put her head on one side. “Jem is a very handsome young man but I do not think he is particularly clever or cunning.” She almost spoke to him as if she felt he, too, could be similarly categorized. “For a start, he knew he’d done something wrong in taking the letter—”

“Damn right he did! Who was the letter for? Me? Margaret’s lover? How did he come by it? If he took it from Margaret’s…body…then it’s a hanging offense.”

“My maid says her young man stole it from Debenham after he foolishly fell asleep with the letter beside him.”