Scandalously Yours (Hellions of High Street 1)
“What did she want?” he asked after a moment’s hesitation.
Hurley shrugged. “You would have to ask my assistant, sir. She may have come to fetch a missing newspaper for her family. Ladies sometimes do that when the daily delivery goes astray.”
“Ah.” Reminding himself that he was here on more important business than Miss Sloane’s peregrinations, John leaned forward
and placed a hand on the newspaperman’s desk. “Any word yet? Have you been able to arrange a meeting with your columnist? I am most anxious to have a talk with him at his earliest convenience.”
“Er, well, as to that sir.” Hurley shifted in his seat. “I’m afraid I’ve disappointing news. As I warned you, ‘The Beacon’ is a very private person and turned me down flat.”
“Perhaps if you give me the fellow’s name and address name, I could appeal to him directly.”
Hurley shook his head. “Oh, er, the gentleman doesn’t reside here in London.”
“Then where?” pressed the earl.
“Forgive me, milord, but ‘The Beacon’ is a recluse. I’ve sworn to keep the name and address a secret.”
“Damn,” muttered John. “It’s imperative that I contact him. A very important debate is coming up in Parliament, and I wish to ask his advice on the issues.” To punctuate the sense of urgency, he began to drum his fingers on the desktop.
The newspaperman remained unmoved. “I wish I could help you, milord. But a promise is a promise.”
John opened his mouth to argue, but Hurley quickly quashed any possible protest.
“As a gentleman, you surely understand.”
“Well, may I leave a note, then?”
After a hitch of hesitation, Hurley agreed. “Aye, I suppose that would be fine.”
“And you’ll see to it that it gets to delivered to ‘The Beacon’ without fail?” demanded John.
Signing a cross over his heart, Hurley gave a solemn nod. “You have my word on it, milord.”
Rising, the earl took a muttered leave of the newspaperman and returned to the street. It was a less than satisfactory arrangement, however he had no choice but to accept it.
For now.
However, he hadn’t won a chestful of medals in the Peninsular campaign by sitting on his bum. If he didn’t hear anything soon, he would have to switch tactics and take the offensive.
In war, as in chess, there were a number of different strategies for achieving victory.
The Beacon was proving adept at making elusive moves. But the battle—or was it a game?—was just beginning.
Chapter Ten
Thank you, Miss Anna.” As the music ended, Lord Davies brought his twirl to a graceful stop in front of Olivia and smiled. “Your sister is a splendid dancer, Miss Sloane. She moves like…”
“Spun sugar?” suggested Olivia, eyeing Anna’s white silk gown with a glint of amusement.
Their mother had insisted on adding a confection of tiny pink taffeta roses along the scooped neckline, nearly ruining the elegant simplicity of the design. But with naught but the simple strand of pearls at her neck, and a sprig of snowy Baby’s Breath twined in her honey-gold hair, Anna was still a vision of ethereal, elfin beauty.
“Lud, you make me sound like a sweet nothing,” replied her sister with a mock grimace. “I hope I have more substance than that.”
Davies looked a trifle uncertain of how to respond. “Be assured, Miss Anna, you are…”
“Absolutely delicious?” suggested a half-mocking voice from behind Olivia’s back.
She turned to see a gentleman step out from the shadows. His long, dark hair was carelessly combed, and he wore his tailored evening clothes with a nonchalance that bordered on insolence.