Conspiring with a Rogue
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Authors: Julie Johnstone
Tags: #romance, #love, #suspense, #humor, #historical, #regency
Conspiring with a Rogue
Julie Johnstone
Smashwords Edition
Cover Design by Heather Boyd
Copyright © 2012 Julie Johnstone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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For my mother who from my earliest memories always encouraged me to dream big and believe nothing was impossible. ~ Mom, you say you have had an average life, but no one who has contributed what you have to another human being can say that. You gave me an unrelenting belief in the power of dedication and perseverance. I’m positive without this I would have never become a published author.
Much love,
Julie
Golden Square, London
The Year of Our Lord 1818
Lady Whitney Rutherford had expected to encounter a great deal of surprising things when she was forced to pretend to be a man, but the possibility that another woman would try to seduce her had never entered her mind.
How ridiculously naïve of her. She could not afford naïveté, nor could she afford for her true identity to be uncovered by the overeager tart standing in front of her. “Lady Audrey―” Whitney began but cut her sentence short to duck under her assailant’s arm.
The nerve of the vixen
. Didn’t she recognize an uninterested man, albeit in this case a woman, when she saw one? Surely she had never been this purposely blind when she was a debutante in the
ton
. Of course, she did remember one afternoon when she had peeled off her stockings to get the attention of the man who her sister had wanted to marry, but that was different.
That
was to save her sister from marrying a man she didn’t love. At the time, there was no way she could have known she would actually fall in love with her sister’s intended target. That had not been a blind act. Premeditated? Yes.
Speaking of premeditation, Lady Audrey was clearly still meditating on seducing her. Whitney eyed the furniture in her office and scrambled behind the safety of her desk. Enough was enough. She slapped her palms against the wood, pleased to see Lady Audrey blink in surprise. Now she had the woman’s attention. And now Whitney would set the lady straight. “I’m afraid you force me to speak bluntly.”
“
Please do,” Lady Audrey purred, peeling
off her white silken gloves and slinging them at Whitney with a giggle.
One smacked Whitney in the face. She threw the glove to the floor and glowered at the woman she had just rescued from social ruin. “Lady Audrey, I’m flattered, but I am simply not interested.”
“I think you’re lying,” Lady Audrey retorted while settling into the damask chair in a puddle of French lace, a mutinous pout spreading across her face.
Women who were used to getting what they wanted were nothing but trouble. Whitney knew this firsthand since she used to be one of them. She drummed her fingers on the desk. Best to be firm but not mean-spirited. “I assure you I do not lie.”
“All men lie,” Lady Audrey retorted.
“Not all,” Whitney replied, thinking of Drake. He’d never lied to her.
She
had lied to him.
“Well, let’s see if you are telling the truth.” The brazen chit ran a finger along the neckline of her muslin gown, touching the white frothy fichu she’d placed about her neck and cleavage for modesty’s sake. She then proceeded to pull the lace away from her dress and expose the upper portion of flesh of her heaving bosom, her dark gaze settling on Whitney. “You’re staring,” she purred at Whitney.
Whitney blinked in shock. She was staring, but not because she was interested in the lady. She just simply could not believe this was happening to her. “Lady Audrey, if you don’t take care your breasts will spill out soon, and you’re going to have a devil of a time re-lacing your own corset.”
“You won’t help me?” Lady Audrey snapped a fan open in front of her face, but not before Whitney saw the lady’s coy smile.
How aggravating to be forced to play this silly game. She should have decided when she ran away from home to disguise herself as a baker instead of a private investigator. Probably no brazen chits tried to seduce bakers. She pulled on the cravat that was tied near to choking around her neck. It was really too bad she did not know the first thing about baking. Of course, she had known next to nothing about searching for missing people, but the job had fallen in her lap and she had been desperate. And it did, if she was going to be truthful, speak to her on a level she didn’t care to analyze at this particular moment.
“Are you contemplating the merits of helping me re-dress?” Lady Audrey asked while fanning herself.
“No,” Whitney snapped, fumbling for the watch fob in her pocket. Surely, the lady’s father would be here soon. Whitney had sent him an urgent message this morning when she had found Lady Audrey at the Bright Star Inn. The man had to be close.
Struggling to control her annoyance, Whitney nodded and set herself to the task of adjusting the fold of her uncomfortable cravat. Next she tugged her waistcoat and checked the time on her fob watch before returning her gaze to Lady Audrey. Until he arrived, keeping Lady Audrey at bay was of the utmost importance. Whitney put the watch back in her pocket and glanced at Lady Audrey. Maybe a refreshment would distract her.
Anything to keep the woman’s hands busy
. “Would you like a glass of lemonade?”
“I’m not thirsty,” Lady Audrey replied, the movement of her rapidly fluttering fan slowing until it stopped altogether. Whitney focused on the intricate rose pattern instead of the inviting smile Lady Audrey was directing at her. Something about the fan was very familiar. She knew that rose pattern. It was exactly like the one Sally had given her for her twentieth birthday—one of only two, Sally had told her. She had to get a closer look. Whitney moved from behind her desk and sat in the chair opposite Lady Audrey, ignoring the lady’s pleased smile.
A slow burn of anger boiled through Whitney, along with a healthy dose of suspicion. Lady Audrey languidly fanned herself, unaware she held a clue to a puzzle Whitney could not believe she had failed to piece together. She could not give herself away, but she simply had to know if she was right. “Are your parents, by chance, associated with the Duchess of Primwitty?”
“How did you know?” Lady Audrey asked excitedly, the corners of her mouth lifting into a surprisingly genuine smile. Before Whitney could answer the question, the girl gave a dainty shrug. “I suppose being a private investigator here in London you know so many things. I’m fascinated.” Lady Audrey patted the cushion beside her. “Come, sit by me.”
