A Scoundrel by Moonlight (Sons of Sin 4)

Nell made a distressed sound. “You’re speaking cruel nonsense.”

“You think I torment you for my entertainment,” Lady Harmsworth said with a regret that even to Nell’s hostile ears sounded sincere. “I’m sorry, Miss Trim.” She paused. “Blast, I can’t have a good coze with a woman I call Miss Trim. Can’t I call you Eleanor?”

Nell regarded her stormily. “That isn’t appropriate, your ladyship.” She placed an ironic emphasis on the formal address.

Lady Harmsworth smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re a snob.”

“Not at all,” Nell said coldly. How could she have liked this woman?

“I told you, I’m a humble vicar’s daughter.”

“You’re a famous scholar,” Nell snapped, tired of Lady Harmsworth downplaying her status purely to winkle out her secrets.

“I wasn’t w

hen I met Richard. And a female scholar doesn’t meet general approval, believe me. Most people consider our match completely laughable. I’m such a bluestocking and he’s society’s beau ideal.”

“He has lovely manners,” Nell said.

To Nell’s surprise, Lady Harmsworth laughed. “I deserve that.” She spoke more softly. “I’m going about this completely ham-fisted. Richard would be ashamed of me. I just want you to know that you’re not the first woman to fall in love with a man she believes is impossibly out of reach. If you need advice or help or a shoulder to cry on, I’m offering my friendship.”

Nell, who thought her cheeks couldn’t get any hotter, met Lady Harmsworth’s eyes. What could she say? Admitting that she was Leath’s mistress would put her further beyond the pale than working as a housemaid.

She managed a smile, slightly wobbly, and spoke with a genuine warmth that she didn’t have to work to summon, to her surprise. “Please, I’d be honored if you called me Nell.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

He’s there.” Leath stepped into the hired coach on a side street. Inside, Sedgemoor, Hillbrook, and Harmsworth were ready for action. At least he’d convinced Eleanor to wait at Maidenhead’s best inn. She’d reluctantly cooperated when he’d pointed out that fears for her safety would distract him from the confrontation.

He went on. “Or at least the driver says that a heavily built bald bruiser is sitting at a table between the two doors. If it’s not Greengrass, it’s someone who wants more than one exit available.”

“Ugly as sin,” Harmsworth said.

“Sounds like our man,” Leath said.

“At last the weasel has emerged from cover,” Hillbrook said with grim satisfaction. “You’d think he’d be more cautious about collecting his blood money than to meet you face to face.”

Leath’s smile was equally grim. “In the note arranging this rendezvous, I told him that I got the diary before I handed over the money, or we had no deal.”

“He didn’t threaten to publish?” Sedgemoor asked.

“I told him to go ahead. It was my terms or nothing.”

“That was rash,” Harmsworth said.

Leath shrugged. “Not really. If he publishes, I won’t pay him to keep quiet. And however scandalous the diary, I doubt any newspaper can amass ten thousand guineas.”

“I still take my hat off to you, Leath,” Sedgemoor said. “You’re a cool devil.”

“After this last year, I’m becoming inured to scandal,” he replied drily.

“Gad, you’re well behind the rest of us,” Harmsworth drawled. “We three drank scandal with our mother’s milk.”

Leath laughed, then returned to the business at hand. “So you’ll cover the doors?”

“Yes,” Sedgemoor said. “We three and the coachman should be plenty.”

“Don’t budge until I’ve got the diary and you see me leave the inn. Any trouble inside could injure innocent bystanders. Once he’s outside, we nab the sod wherever and however we can.”