Proof by Seduction (Carhart 1)

And how devastated when she discovered that first lover, like the rest of the world, valued her at nothing? No wonder she’d turned to fraud.

“Lord Blakely?” Mrs. Davenport intruded on his reverie. “Will there be a prosecution?”

“Silence,” he snapped. “I’m thinking.” Gareth stood up and paced in front of the fire.

There was more to it than mere devastation. For all the coldness of her upbringing, it had been Jenny who’d seen the best in those around her. It had been Jenny who’d seen Ned’s clever loyalty, Laura’s quiet strength. She’d even seen something good in Gareth, for God’s sake.

With no reason to hope ever given her, she’d hoped. And if she’d been unwilling to take that last step—if she’d been unwilling to need him, to love him, when he’d thought to relegate her to the cobwebbed corners of his life—how could he blame her? Nobody had ever valued her as she deserved. Least of all Gareth.

Gareth was a scientist. When the evidence came together, sometimes, it showed truth so clearly that no rationalization could deny it. Now, in this lifeless room, with a horrid harridan watching him think, bloodthirst shining in her oh-so-proper eyes, Gareth realized the truth.

Jenny wasn’t his equal. She was his better.

And he was the world’s most gigantic ass. An ass, and an idiot. Because Jenny had seen the best in herself, too, and he’d denigrated that, because he’d not wanted to admit that anyone could be his superior. Least of all the woman he needed.

Everything receded from him, like a tide traveling out to sea. He’d held on to his superiority as justification for every solitary year of his life. But what if he wasn’t superior? The thought had once felt threatening. But now…If other people were better than him, he was not nearly so constrained by Lord Blakely as he’d thought. He was free. He could have everything he’d once wanted and shoved aside. Lord Blakely shrank in importance until he became a tool and a title, not an impenetrable barrier.

If any of this was going to work, it had to start with one person. Jenny. His Jenny.

Gareth’s limbs stung, as if his blood had suddenly returned to circulation. He stopped pacing and fixed Mrs. Davenport in his sights.

She rubbed her hands greedily. “Will she hang? Have you decided what to do?”

“Yes, I know what to do.” Gareth hefted the records in his hand. “I’m going to make sure you never speak of her again.”

He crossed to the fire and tossed the papers on before she could protest. The dry paper ignited. Mrs. Davenport’s faint cry made Gareth smile in satisfaction.

Jenny didn’t need his money. But if there was one thing Gareth was good at, it was wresting respect from others. He could give Jenny that protection. He’d be damned if he ever let anyone denigrate his Jenny again.

“Listen to me.” His voice dropped a register. “Whatever you think of Jenny Keeble, you will keep to yourself. If I hear you have breathed one word of the woman, I will destroy you. I will ruin this school and destroy the bank that holds your pension and bribe a magistrate to send you to Australia in a prison hulk. In the men’s prison hulk. Do not doubt I can do it.”

She shrunk away from him. “I thought you were going to give that Jenny Keeble what she deserves!”

Gareth thought this over. “As it happens, I will.”

But first he had to get back to London. Now.

IT TOOK GARETH a frustrating forty-six hours to travel from Bristol to London. Despite his dust, he didn’t stop by his home to change. Instead, he ordered his driver to go directly to Jenny’s house. A thousand tremulous wings flapped in his chest as he jumped from the carriage. He banged on her door with his fist.

No answer.

“Jenny,” he called. “Jenny, are you there? Jenny!”

No answer.

Perhaps she had gone shopping. Perhaps—he looked at the door more carefully—damn it. She hadn’t removed the knocker from her door because she was out buying gloves. As if to underscore this point, the door above his head opened.

“You looking for Madame Esmerelda?”

Gareth whirled around and craned his neck upward. A woman stood behind another door. “Where is she?”

“She left. Took all her things, she did. Flat’s empty—and I should know, ’cause I wanted to pick through what she’d left behind, and there were none of it.”

“Well, where did she go?”

The woman shrugged. “She’s a Gypsy, ain’t she? Who knows where she went?”

A cold hand caressed Gareth’s heart. “But she left a message for me, didn’t she?”

The woman shrugged apathetically. “I can’t say as she did. If you’re wanting your fortune told, I imagine I could make shift. She told me how it were done the once.”

A second roaring sounded in his ears. He’d realized Jenny was too good for him. He hadn’t expected her to discover it, too. Foolishly, he’d hoped she would remain so deluded as to welcome his suit. But why should she sit at home? Jenny didn’t mope. She acted.

What an idiot he was. She was the irreplaceable one. She could have any man she wanted. She wouldn’t even have to lie to get a quarter of them.

“Did she leave a message for anyone?”

The woman peered down at him craftily. “Well, I suppose I could ask the spirits—”

“The spirits can go hang,” Gareth muttered, and turned savagely on his heel.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

GARETH HAD COME to his wits’ end by the time he thought to ask his cousin for Jenny’s whereabouts. He burst into the Carhart breakfast room at ten in the morning after a sleepless night.

For once, Ned was properly dressed and shaved, sitting before a well-stocked china plate. Gareth was the one out of place. He’d abandoned his cravat long before, and his hair was disheveled and dusty. Nothing so trivial as attire mattered; he had to find Jenny.

“Ned,” Gareth said. “Have you any idea where Jenny has gone?”

Ned carefully set down his fork. “Gareth. I see you’ve returned to town for my wedding. Thank you for your fine felicitations. Your manners, as always, are impeccable.”

“Hang your wedding,” Gareth said. “Hang Ware and his daughter and your mother. And hang you, for not answering my question.”

Ned shook his head. “You’re not talking sense, Gareth.”

“And since when do you call me by my Christian name? I’ve never given you leave. You’ve never done it before.”

Ned opened his right hand and looked at it. Then he smiled and clenched the hand into a fist.

“That,” Ned said, “is a present from Jenny. She told me I could. In fact, she ordered me to do so. She said somebody had to keep you in line. I’ve been trying to work on my resolve, so I figured that someone had better be me.”

Gareth scowled and scuffed his foot against the floor. Of course Jenny would do that. She’d thought of Gareth, of how he hated his title. He’d let her go; but she hadn’t abandoned him.

Ned pushed his chair back and strode closer. “That, as I said, was a present from Jenny. This is a present from me.”

He slammed his fist into Gareth’s face. Stars burst across Gareth’s vision, and he went flying. He crashed on the floor and skidded ignominiously into a wall. For a stunned moment, he lay there, too shocked to even catalog his hurts. But then his jaw started throbbing and a sharp network of needles lanced through his back where he’d struck the floor.

He opened his eyes to see Ned standing over him.

“What in blazes was that for?”

“You think just because you’re a marquess you can take advantage of any woman you choose?”

“I didn’t—”

“And leave her destitute? Alone?”

“I offered—”

Ned shook his head. “You offered her no real choice but to flee to another country.”

The pain in Gareth’s jaw was nothing to the impact of those words, slamming into his chest like a hatchet. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. He do

ubled over on the ground. When he could finally catch his words, he pleaded. “Where? When? And how do I get her back?”

“You don’t, you ass.”

“I know I’m an ass. I’m an idiot. But I’ll do anything to get her back.”

Ned tapped his fingers against the leg of his trousers. “What are your intentions?”

“Exceedingly dishonorable,” Gareth confessed. “If I have to trick her into marrying me, I will.”

Ned’s fingers stilled, his mouth falling open. “Marriage. You? Where’s the advantage in that for her?” He looked off to the side, his lips moving.