Enticing the Earl

“I’m still searching for Burton, my lord. Perhaps he had something to do with this,” Tanner said quietly.

“Highly unlikely. The man was most likely out of the country with my money before I even noticed the discrepancies in the books. I doubt the incidents were related.” Simon raked his hands through his hair. He was almost ready to pull out

his hair in frustration. There had to be something Tanner had missed. Some clue in that room. “Did you find anything of value on Lambert?”

“Only his personal effects.”

“No strange pieces of gold or maybe a gem or two?” Perhaps Lambert hadn’t found a thing while digging. They hadn’t. Mia must have picked up all of the treasure with those few items.

“No, my lord.”

With no other clues to go on, it made no sense to keep Tanner on when money was difficult. “Mr. Tanner, thank you for your services but I believe our business is concluded. I shall have the rest of the money sent to your London office.”

“My lord, are you certain you want to end this now? With Lambert’s death, there may be some rumors circulating that could lead us to whoever hired him. Just because Lambert is dead, it doesn’t mean you are not still in trouble. Whoever hired Lambert may still be out there looking for something from you... or her.”

Tanner certainly knew how to keep his job. “Very well,” Simon said. “You have one month. If you cannot find any credible information then our business will be complete.”

Tanner rose and bowed. “Thank you, my lord. I believe I will have something in that amount of time. In times of grief and upheaval, people tend to say more than when they are in a guarded state of mind. Someone will slip and say a name.”

“Assuming anyone knows who paid Lambert.”

“Someone will know.” Tanner smirked. “And I shall start with his mistress.”

Simon stood. “Very good. Keep me informed of your progress.”

With his frustration at a fevered pitch, Simon had no desire to rejoin the dinner party. There was no bag for punching here. No dumbbells to lift. Nothing to ease his irritation. He walked to the billiard room and grabbed a cue. He slammed the white ball into the colored ones, watching as they split apart. While it felt good, it was not the same as the physical relief he received from punching.

He turned at the sound of the door shutting behind Mia. “Are you all right?”

“No.”

“I heard Mr. Tanner was here. I take it he didn’t come with good news?” She walked up to the table and picked up a ball. She tossed it back and forth between her hands to hide her obvious nerves.

“Lambert is dead. Suicide.”

She held on to one of the balls, squeezing so tight her knuckles turned white. “So we have no way of knowing if he was Davies.”

Simon lined up his next shot and hammered the stick against the white ball sending a blue one into a pocket. “Actually, we do. Lambert was Davies.”

Mia tossed the ball on the table. “But isn’t that good news, Simon?”

“No. All Lambert said was someone hired him. But he refused to confess the name of the man. He killed himself while in bed with his mistress.” Every time he thought about this mess, his anger inched higher.

“Why did he kill himself then?”

“I don’t know, Mia. Maybe he felt the man who hired him would kill him if he gave up his name.” He turned away from her and the table. He longed to strike out at something. Hurl a glass across the room. Anything to ease this frustration edging toward the pinnacle.

He wanted to find the bastard who hired Lambert and squeeze the life out of him. His nerves were drawn tightly within him. He needed relief.

Mia came up and hugged him tightly. His body reacted immediately. Perhaps there was one way to ease his frustration.

He wanted her now against the table and no one would stop him. He rubbed his thumb against her breast until she giggled and looked up at him. Her mouth gaped, allowing him to take full advantage when he kissed her. Their tongues waged a war with each other. Her passionate response only sent him closer to a precipice.

He turned her around to face the billiard table.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a bemused tone.

“Releasing my frustrations,” he whispered as he lifted her skirts.