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Authors: Elizabeth Thornton

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After reading it she made a moue of distaste. “I suppose we must go?”

“Now that’s an odd thing to say when you know that Raynor and I have been expecting the invitation.”

“Julian has certainly risen in the world if the Kirklands are taking him up. Or perhaps you are responsible for the invitation, Jeremy?”

“No. I think we may say that the countess was seized
by the notion all on her own and immediately acted upon it. She likes to be first in everything.”

“And you and Julian decided to make use of her?”

“Precisely.”

“I hope you know what you are doing.”

This was said with so much feeling that Jeremy set down his teacup before she could replenish it for him. “Now what might you mean by that?”

“I don’t know what I mean, not really. I just hate the thought of being on display. You know, of course, that everyone will be hoping for the worst?” To his questioning look, she replied, “You know what I mean. More of what happened at Ranelagh, scenes, duels, that kind of thing.”

“Then they shall be disappointed.” He reached for her hand and grasped it in a comforting clasp. “Look, nothing will go wrong. The world will see that we Wards are all on amiable terms with Raynor, and the gossip will die a natural death. Then, perhaps, things will return to normal and we can take up our own lives.”

“You don’t suppose there’s any truth to the gossip, do you, Jeremy? It always seemed to me that Serena was partial to Julian, yes, and vice versa.”

Smiling, he shook his head. “Even if that were so, Raynor is committed to his life in America. He’ll be gone before we know it—thank God!”

She did not return his smile. “That’s not what Lord Charles says.”

His expression altered. “Oh? What does Charles say?”

“He says that Julian has had a change of heart, that he intends to settle in England.”

There was a long silence. Coming to himself, Jeremy shook his head. “It makes no odds. By the by, the footman was most anxious to locate Lord Charles. I took it
upon myself to give him the direction of that little house of his in Chelsea. I hope I did the right thing?”

A small frown pleated Catherine’s brow. “What little house in Chelsea?” she asked, and Jeremy told her.

In his house in Chelsea, Lord Charles received his invitation to Lady Kirkland’s house party in unsmiling hauteur. “Damned impertinence!” he told the lady whose bed he had risen from only moments before. “And how the devil did Jeremy know where to send the footman—that’s what I should like to know?”

Lily Danvers, his mistress of two years, a former actress whom he had rescued from a life of prostitution, came to herself slowly, then more rapidly as she sensed the rage in him. “Jeremy?” she repeated carefully. “Would that be Sir Jeremy Ward?”

Preoccupied with his own thoughts, he did not hear her question. “If Jeremy knows,” he said savagely, “you may be sure that she knows also.”

“Lady Catherine? And why shouldn’t she know?”

He turned his head to look at her. “Does it matter?”

Her breathing quickened and she hauled herself up to a sitting position. “What is it, Charles?” She couldn’t keep her bitterness from showing. “Are you afraid that if Lady Catherine finds out about this house, finds out about me, she will be jealous?”

“Jealous?” He laughed shortly. “I haven’t the vaguest idea of what you mean.”

“I think you do. I think you are in love with her. She thinks you flit from one woman to the next, doesn’t she? It’s what you want her to think. But there are no others, are there, Charles? There is only me, and you don’t want her to know it, because you are afraid she will see it as a betrayal.”

When he was silent, she went on heedlessly, “Why, she
might even run away with the idea that I was important to you, and we both know that is laughable.”

For a long, long moment, he stared at her. Then, cursing softly, he began to dress himself.

Serena and Letty found Lady Kirkland’s invitation on the mantelpiece when they returned from an outing to Dawes’ bookshop in Piccadilly. Serena looked at the card indifferently, handed it to Letty, then went upstairs to change out of her outdoor things.

Letty was thrilled. House parties, especially for young people her age, were something to look forward to. Unmarried girls had their own quarters, usually in the attics, and they had a glorious time exchanging confidences till all hours of the night, and sometimes getting up to tricks and all sorts of naughtiness that would scandalize their elders if they only knew of it.

She was eagerly counting the days off on the calendar when Mr. Hadley walked in. “Look,” she said, and her eyes danced with excitement, “the invitation to the Kirklands’ house party has arrived,” and she waved the gilt-edged invitation under his nose.

Mr. Hadley took it from her. “Yes, I received my invitation an hour ago.”

At his somber look, which in Letty’s mind was always tinged with censure, some of the excitement began to drain out of her. “There’s no need to look so grave,” she said. “You may not credit it, Trevor, but house parties are supposed to be fun.”

He frowned. “That may be so, but I have been given to understand by Sir Jeremy that our purpose in going there is a serious one.”

“Pooh!” said Letty, tossing her dark curls. “I care nothing for that! You are the one who made a fool of yourself at Ranelagh over Lady Amelia, grinning at her like a love-struck schoolboy. You are the one the gossips will be
watching, not me.” Tilting her head defiantly, she said, taunting him, “I intend to have a glorious time.”

At the mention of Lady Amelia, his color had heightened. “You are a fine one to talk to me of Lady Amelia,” he said scathingly, “when your own conduct does not bear examining. You are an out-and-out flirt! If I had the schooling of you, my girl, I’d make you run a very different course.” His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

She flounced toward him, hand raised to strike him. When she was within arm’s reach, he grabbed her wrist and held on. Her throat worked. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she stared up at him doggedly, refusing to give way.

He groaned, and hauled her into his arms, kissing her fiercely, possessively, experiencing emotions he had never experienced for any woman. And she kissed him back! She kissed him back! When they pulled apart, they looked at each other with horror.

“I can’t love you,” she sobbed. “I can’t! I have hated you forever.”

Mr. Hadley groaned again, and dragged her into his embrace, kissing her even more feverishly than before, if that were possible.

Neither was aware of the door opening. Serena took one look at the couple locked in a passionate embrace, and quickly whipped herself out of the room before they could see her.

“You don’t love me,” said Letty brokenly. “You can’t.” She was groping in her pocket for a handkerchief. “I am a hoyden. I have no manners. It’s what you are always telling me.” She looked at him hopefully.

Mr. Hadley tenderly mopped her wet cheeks with his own handkerchief. “You are all of that, my girl, and I
love
you for it.”

She rewarded him with a teary smile. “We would not suit. You are straitlaced and I am a tear-away.”

He smiled at her innocence. “We shall suit perfectly. When I am with you, I don’t feel the least bit straitlaced. In fact, I feel like a ravenous tiger.”

She looked at him doubtfully. “You are always finding fault with me.”

“How else was I going to preserve my honor? I
love
you, I tell you, and I can’t go on pretending that I don’t.”

Letty was very pale. “Oh, Trev, what are we going to tell Serena?”

His mind had already been working on those lines. His face hardened. “The truth, of course. It’s the only way, but not yet. She is counting on our support, and we must give it to her. After the Kirklands’ house party, I shall break it to her as gently as I can.”

“Oh, I do love you, Trev,” said Letty, and she rested her head on his broad chest.

   Not far from Ward House, in Pall Mall, where London’s most exclusive coffeehouses were to be found, there was a sedan stand directly outside the famed Cocoa-Tree Chocolate House. In an upstairs private parlor, Julian sat at a table overlooking the street, occasionally raising his head from the periodical he was perusing to watch the comings and goings of the various sedans.

One in particular caught his interest. Stepping down from it was an aging dandy, an exquisite complete with powdered wig, sequined waistcoat, and an excess of Michelin lace at throat and wrists. As Julian watched, the exquisite began arguing with the chairmen over the price they were charging. Other chairmen were joining in the argument and calling on passersby to settle it for them.

A rap on the door momentarily distracted Julian’s attention. “Yes, what is it?” he called out.

A waiter entered. “Are you ready to order, sir?”

“No,” replied Julian, “I’m waiting for—” He broke off and swiveled sharply when he heard the unmistakable cocking of a pistol. “What the devil? Loukas?”

A smiling Constable Loukas locked the door carefully before advancing into the room. “A seasoned soldier such as yourself,” he said, “should know better than to allow his attention to be distracted. If this were loaded”—Loukas tapped the pistol in his hand—”and I were your enemy, you might be a dead man by now.”

Julian glanced out the window. “The fop is Harry, I suppose?” When Loukas shook his head, Julian frowned, and returned his gaze to the scene below, studying it more intently.

“Harry,” said Loukas, “is a passenger in one of the other chairs.”

“Now I’ve got him. And the fop?”

“Oh, he’s my man all right, a regular actor, as you can see. Parker is a man of many masks. There isn’t an accent he cannot mimic. He’s a useful man to know for someone in my profession.”

“Shall they be joining us for breakfast?”

“That would not be wise, not when they shall meet us later this evening, at Lady Kirkland’s house party. It would not do if someone were to see us together before then. It might put ideas in their heads. Take a good look at Parker, Julian, so that you will know whom you can count on if things start to go wrong.”

Julian laughed. “I could hardly miss him.” He shook his head. “Don’t you think we are carrying things too far? The more I think about it, the more farfetched my suspicions appear to be.”

As he seated himself on the other side of the table, Loukas eyed Julian speculatively. “Do you know what I think?” he said.

“You are going to tell me whatever I say. I remember that look of old, you see.”

“I think,” said Loukas, “that you don’t wish to unmask your enemy for fear that he or she turns out to be someone you don’t wish it to be.”

The amusement was wiped from Julian’s face. Abruptly changing the subject, he asked, “What did you find out about Pretty?”

Loukas shrugged. “Nothing that helps us. As I told you, Nellie was a petty criminal. Sometimes he worked for himself. Sometimes he hired himself out to others. There were short stretches when he seemed to be living a more settled existence.”

“You knew him?”

“He passed through my hands from time to time. I always recommended leniency. I had hopes, you see, that he would make something of himself. Well, he’d had a hard life, abandoned as a child, abused, you know the sort of thing I mean. No one came forward to claim his body.”

Julian’s face darkened.

Loukas looked at him closely. “Are you blaming yourself? Nellie made his own choices. He had only himself to blame.”

“That’s not it. What I think is that his fate could so easily have been mine.”

“I don’t believe in fate,” said Loukas. “Now, do you have our invitations to this house party?”

“What?”

“Our invitations to Lady Kirkland’s house party. Do you have them with you?”

Julian fished in his pocket and produced the gilt-edged cards. “As instructed, I gave Parker’s name as Mr. Giles Bowring.”

“Good,” said Loukas. “Parker is very sensitive about using his real name. Harry and I, of course, have led
blameless lives, and have nothing to hide.” His eyes twinkled.

“However,” said Julian, “I also told our hostess that he was lately arrived from the West Indies.” To Loukas’s blank look, he answered, “She asked me about his background, and it was the best I could come up with on the spur of the moment.”

“I don’t think Parker knows the first thing about the West Indies.”

“Then,” said Julian, “he had better acquire a little knowledge before we begin this charade.” He paused. “I’m still not convinced this will work. It’s only a house party after all.”

“Yes, but all our suspects will be there, watching you, watching each other, putting two and two together. And of course, we shall do our part to stir things up.”

“There will be scores of people there. Only a fool would show his hand among so many witnesses.”

“Perhaps. But a clever man or woman might recognize that in the midst of so many suspects with something to hide, he or she might never be given a better chance to escape detection. Besides, our villain may not show his hand till later, you know, when we play out the last scene in the act.”

Julian leaned back in his chair and subjected his companion to a searching look. “Do all the suspects have something to hide?”

“My dear Julian, everyone has something to hide, even you. Especially you.”

Julian shook his head and laughed. “But what exactly do you suppose might happen to me?”

“Another abduction, perhaps, though I don’t put much stock in that notion.” Loukas scratched his head. “No, this time around, I think our villain will want to make sure that you are removed from the scene permanently.”

“Charming!”

“Yes, isn’t it? All the players will be there, I presume?”

“According to Lady Kirkland they will.”

“Good. Good. Remember what I said. Don’t let yourself become distracted. Be alert at all times. In my experience, danger often comes when we least expect it.”

Julian couldn’t help smiling. “And where will you be in all of this?”

“Oh, I shall be around, never fear. In the meantime .  .  .”

“Yes, yes, I know. Keep my head down and stay out of trouble.”

BOOK: Dangerous to Love
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