Lady Unveiled (Daughters of Sin 5)

Kitty thought even more wildly. Of course, Silverton wasn’t a spy, but if she chose the most far-fetched reason he might be blackmailed, Debenham would really think it worth demanding ransom to keep it secret.

“A spy for the British government,” she whispered. “He is investigating a matter that has confounded the authorities, but I believe he is on the cusp of discovery.” She sat back in satisfaction. “I think he might just be willing to pay quite a lot of money to keep that secret, don’t you think?”

Chapter 22

Kitty reached her home much later than she’d anticipated, and very much excited by her adventures that night. Escaping Lord Debenham’s clutches—his attempted kisses and caresses—in a way that hinted she was playing a daring game of cat and mouse was exhausting. It wasn’t in Kitty’s nature to play such games, but to her surprise, she found she knew, instinctively, what would whip up Lord Debenham’s excitement. And at what point she could duck out of the final showdown.

Now, sitting on a chair by her dressing table and removing her stockings while Dorcas brushed out her hair, she began to describe her exploits.

“Yer told Lord Debenham summat he’ll want ter blackmail Silverton ’bout? Oh miss, yer dunno ‘ow dangerous this is.”

To her chagrin, Dorcas hadn’t been at all excited by the idea that Kitty was going to play Debenham at his own game, and by proving that he was a blackmailer, ensure he was caught in the act and so put him behind bars.

“It might be dangerous, but I know what I’m doing, Dorcas.” Kitty raised her hands for Dorcas to remove the lovely evening gown she wore, followed by her stays and chemise, then donned her night shift and slipped under the covers. “I’ll also need your help.”

“Me ’elp?” Dorcas almost squealed in fear as she shook her head. “I ain’t eva intendin’ ter ‘ave anyfink ter do wiv Lord Debenham. ‘E’s the devil, ‘e is. ‘N yer ought ter keep well away, too. Don’t ‘ave nuffink ter do wiv ‘im, please promise me, miss. Forget yer wild ideas. It’ll end badly; I jest know it.”

“It’ll end with Lissa and Ralph being able to marry at last, and Lord Debenham safely locked away and not harming anyone. No, Dorcas; I’ll do my bit by orchestrating a bogus exchange. I’ll tell Silverton that I’ve invented this excuse so that he’ll be able to turn up with the funds to give to Debenham, and then those who are lying in wait will arrest Debenham. All I want you to do is to quiz the friends you have at Maggie Montgomery’s so that you can find out what secrets they might have told Lord Debenham, and even better, where that pewter box is that’s supposed to contain them all. Can you do that for me? It’s really important. With that, we’ll then have all the other evidence needed to make sure Lord Debenham never causes anyone to lose a fortune to keep their secrets, or end their lives because they don’t pay. Surely you understand that?”

“I ain’t stupid, if that’s wot ye’re implyin’.”

“No, of course not,” Kitty assured her. “I don’t want to put you in danger, and I promise I’ll make sure the information is only given to Mr. Tunley so he can then build a case, but knowing that all these people’s misdemeanors never get into the public arena. It’ll all happen in a trice—no dribbling out of information giving Lord Debenham time to question who’s behind it. You mustn’t worry about you or your friends being in any danger.”

“It’s yer I’m worried ’bout, miss. Ye’re too trustin’ ‘n I know ye’ll not like me ter say it, but if yous pittin’ yer wits aginst Lord Debenham, then I’m quakin’ in me boots. B’sides, I know wot the girls at Maggie Montgomery’s will say. That it ain’t worth their while ter be talkin’. They’ll never tell yer where to get Debenham’s box. They’ll tell yer to get it yerself.”

Each time Silverton looked up and found Octavia smiling at him, his stomach lurched with a vague, deep-seated dread that the time was shortening whereupon he would be gazing at her like this each and every day.

“You’re not tired?” he asked. Even in the gloom of the carriage, he could see the dark shadows beneath her eyes. He truly was concerned. “It’s been a busy few days for you, Octavia. Your aunt certainly seemed worn out last night. I think she’ll be glad when this business is over.”

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nbsp; “You mean the business of getting oneself married?”

He gave a short laugh, embarrassed at the way she’d called him up on his phraseology. “Yes, my darling, I do mean that, for it is quite a business, and you are not possessed of boundless energy. You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

“London is quite the grand whirl.”

He’d heard the pause before her enthusiastic endorsement, and wondered if she were feeling slightly jaded as he certainly would be if every night were a repeat of the same round of merrymaking. Silverton had accompanied her to most events, but diversions such as his collaborations on an investigation instigated by the Home Office relieved the tedium.

And tedious it had been, for with no opportunity to even cast his eyes over Kitty, living the life of the carefree blade about town had been a rather barren business. Although, if he had seen her, he realized, it would only have rubbed salt into the wound. The pain of her departure had not eased as he’d thought it would.

“You really are a country girl at heart, aren’t you, my dear?” He patted her hand. “Don’t worry; we shall only involve ourselves in this lark for a couple of months of the year.”

Her eyes lit up. “You truly would oblige me by spending most of your time in the country? Even though I know you far prefer town?”

“Marriage is a serious business.”

“Indeed it is, Silverton!” There was real urgency in her tone. She reached across the small space. “You’re not regretting this, are you?”

He was glad of the darkness, for while he could inject the necessary jolliness into his tone, he didn’t think he could have done the same for his expression. “When I asked you to marry me, I knew it was the most sensible decision I could possibly have made! Mama adores you. In fact, she quite dotes on you. Always has. My tenants know you better than me for your good work. You are a treasure, Octavia!” He squeezed her little gloved hand and closed his eyes, reminding himself yet again of the need to do what was right for his family rather than for himself.

“You are a kind man, Silverton,” she murmured, gently returning the pressure. “And I am a lucky girl. Ah, it looks like I am home. Thank you for a lovely evening.”

Wearily, Silverton stepped across the threshold into his dimly-lit townhouse, surrendering his hat and coat. He wouldn’t go straight to bed, though it was late and he had an early start with meetings at the Home Office.

“M’lord, you have a visitor waiting for you in the drawing room.”

Silverton couldn’t have been more surprised—and delighted—at the identity of his unexpected visitor, who leaped up in a rustle of silken skirts as the butler discreetly withdrew.