“You swore you would call on me this morning, and that never happened. Besides, a marriage could be nearly as painful to her as a seduction.”
“I have no intention of marrying your sister,” he stated curtly. “There, is that definitive enough for you?”
“Then why in the devil are you courting her?” Venetia exclaimed.
When he glanced at the open study door, she realized she had raised her voice to an unladylike degree. When he strode across the room toward the door, however, she divined his intent and protested. “Please do not close that.”
“I presume you don’t want our argument overheard by my servants.”
“I don’t. But I will not be shut in a room alone with you. Not after last night.”
“Now who is being craven, darling?” he asked, a gleam of amusement in his eyes.
At his long, penetrating look, she found herself flushing. When she refrained from replying, he gave a faint sigh. “You might endeavor to trust me.”
“Whyever should I? What have you ever done to deserve my trust?”
A muscle twitched in Traherne’s cheek. “You have a point. If it will mollify your sense of propriety, we can take our discussion outside onto the terrace, in public view. That would be less compromising.”
She was not concerned about her reputation being compromised—that horse had already bolted the barn two years ago with the scandal of her broken engagement. But the enforced intimacy would grant Traherne an advantage she could ill-afford, given her nonexistent ability to resist him.
When he opened the French doors, she willingly accompanied him out onto the stone terrace, which overlooked his beautiful gardens. Hints of bright color greeted her with the newly leafed trees and early spring flowers. Clearly an army of master gardeners had been hard at work, planting and pruning.
Renewing her vow not to let the earl under her skin, Venetia took a deep breath of the fresh air and turned to face him. “I have made a valiant effort to be reasonable, my lord, and I will try once more. A rake like you is simply not suitable for my sister. You proved that at Tavistock’s last evening.”
The sigh he gave this time was heavier and held exasperation. “There is only one problem, love. I was not at the club for the carnal sport, as I told you. Gaming was my only purpose. Edmund Lisle is in possession of a priceless necklace that I suspect once belonged to my mother, and I was seeking information about it.”
Venetia listened with growing interest as Traherne explained about the shipwreck that had killed his parents, Lionel and Angelique Wilde, along with his distant Wilde relatives, Lord and Lady Beaufort, and his theory that the sunken treasure belonging to his mother’s family had somehow been excavated.
“I have initiated inquiries,” he concluded, “and sent an agent to the French coast to investigate, but have not yet received any reports. I am still no closer to locating the source of the pendant.”
“How did you learn that Lisle had it?” Venetia asked curiously.
Traherne hesitated. “I saw it in the possession of Lady Dalton.”
He paused a moment to let that revelation sink in, and when it did, Venetia’s tone betrayed her amazement. “Lady X has your mother’s jewelry?”
“Yes. Lisle gave her the pendant. For obvious reasons, he is reluctant to share any information with me.”
“Very obvious,” she murmured sardonically.
“Last night was my attempt to force Lisle’s hand,” Traherne added. “If he were indebted to me for a significant fortune, I could compel him to disclose what he knows.”
Venetia shook her head at the irony. “Why didn’t you tell me this last evening?”
“I am not one to air family secrets. And had I told you, would you have believed me?”
She gave him a rueful smile. “Probably not. You make it difficult for me to give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“But now that I have told you, you can draw the same conclusions I did. It’s possible Lisle fomented both attacks to prevent me from reclaiming the pendant.”
Venetia considered Traherne for a long moment. “Do you know what I think, my lord? Your sins are coming home to roost.”
His eyes narrowed. “What sins might those be?”
“Your debauchery, of course.” Humor edged her voice as she couldn’t help ragging him good-naturedly. “Doubtless it serves you right if a jealous lover set his thugs on you.”
She thought Traherne might take offense, but instead, he smiled that slow, sensual smile that never failed to set her pulse racing. Seeing it, Venetia realized she had allowed him to steer her off track. “But all that really has nothing to do with my sister. If someone is bent on harming you, it could endanger her. And if not…Even if your quarrel with Mr. Lisle now is about the pendant and not over your former mistress, you are still very much a libertine and I won’t let you hurt Ophelia.”