The Mysterious Miss Flint (Lost Ladies of London 1)

Though the room was large enough to accommodate fifty people, Nicole couldn’t catch her breath. The walls were closing in, the ceiling pressing down.

“For heaven’s sake, Jeremy. The fact I am here means my reputation is beyond saving. I’m of no use to you now, so you may as well leave.”

Her heartbeat thumped in her ears. Had they been alone, he would have punished her for that comment. The grandson of a viscount deserved respect even if he was a simple mister.

“Wait one moment.” Oliver looked at her, his gaze piercing. “This man is your brother? You’re Viscount Asprey’s granddaughter?”

His voice sounded different, not the playful, teasing tone she loved. Stone-like was the only way to describe his expression. Where were those soft words of

comfort now? Where was the look of hunger she’d seen only a few hours before?

She hung her head. “Yes.”

“Then your name is not Miss Flint?”

“No. It is a name I use, not the name of my birth.”

“Miss Flint? Her name is Miss Nicole Asprey,” Jeremy interjected. He gave a snort of contempt. “Perhaps she failed to mention her betrothal to Lord Mosgrove.”

“For all the saints, I am not betrothed to Mosgrove. The man is a leech, a parasite, and I’d rather die than marry him.”

“That could be arranged,” Jeremy snapped, but then he caught himself. “Forgive me. I say the most ridiculous things when I’m angry.”

Oliver remained silent as he watched their exchange. Try as she might, she couldn’t read him, had no idea what thoughts were flitting through his head.

Why was he not shouting?

Why had he not thrown Jeremy out on his ear?

A light rap on the door broke the tense silence.

The butler entered. “My apologies for disturbing you, my lord. Mrs Asprey wishes an audience, too.”

So, Rowena was tired of waiting.

“Then you may as well show her in, Bradbury.” Oliver kept his eyes fixed on the butler. “But we’ll not need refreshment as I’m certain their visit will be short.”

Nicole’s heart swelled with relief. His disdain for her brother was evident. Hope threatened to spring to life, too. Was the Earl of Stanton the gallant knight she’d been waiting for these last five years? Or would he send her packing along with her brother?

Rowena strutted into the room like an exotic bird. The woman was in need of spectacles if she thought the pea-green turban and spencer complemented the orange gown. But then she liked to think herself ahead of the crowd.

“My lord,” she gave a reluctant curtsy as she addressed Oliver. “I could not wait in that carriage a moment longer. Jeremy is so protective of his beloved sister I was fearful of what he might do.”

Oliver clenched his jaw. “Trust me, madam. I am more than capable of handling volatile situations.”

“Of course you are.” Although Rowena’s voice held a hint of respect for their host, her pinched lips and hawk eyes reflected the anger she held at bay.

Jeremy cleared his throat. “My dear, I’m afraid to say it is not good news. Our sister has confessed to being Lord Stanton’s mistress. Mosgrove won’t want her now.”

Rowena sucked in a breath and slapped her gloved hand to her chest. “Lord preserve us. A mistress? Our dear girl is ruined.”

“Miss Flint is … Miss Asprey is not my mistress,” Oliver insisted.

“Then there appears to be a discrepancy in the story.” After offering Jeremy a curt nod, Rowena turned to her. “Nicole. There you are, you silly goose. What a pickle you find yourself in. Where on earth have you been these last six months?” She stopped her ramblings to take a quick breath. “I am so relieved to find you alive and well.”

Oh, Nicole was alive, but she was not at all well. Her heart was breaking. Having learnt of her deception, Oliver refused to look at her. It’s only a name, she thought of saying. But she’d had ample opportunity to tell him the truth. Her failure to do so screamed of mistrust.

“What are we to do with you?” Rowena continued as she stepped closer and drew Nicole into an embrace. “You’ll pay for this, you evil little witch,” Rowena whispered before pulling away. “Now, we must do our utmost to ensure you receive some form of recompense for the frightful things that have happened here.”