Mistress (11 page)

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Authors: Amanda Quick

BOOK: Mistress
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“I am not overset. You make it sound as though I were having the vapors. I am bloody furious.”

“Oh.”

He shot her a frozen look. “Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

Iphiginia thought about it. “If it would not be too much trouble, my lord, I would like to know what it is that has, ah, outraged you.”

He hesitated, as though debating how much to tell her. “I have just learned that a close friend of mine is being blackmailed.”

Iphiginia stared at him, astonished. “Good heavens. Someone other than my aunt is also being blackmailed after all? This is very interesting news, indeed, my lord.”

“Is it not?”

“Sir, I do not understand your sarcasm. I should think you would be alarmed to learn that the tale I told you may well be true and that a friend of yours is also a blackmailer’s victim. Why are you angry with me?”

“I suggest that you construct a reasonable hypothesis to explain my irritation.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“A guess, Mrs. Bright. Make a guess.”

Iphiginia’s mouth dropped open. Now he was being more than sarcastic. He was becoming impossibly rude. She swiftly composed her expression when she noticed three lounging dandies gazing raptly at her. She blocked their view with her parasol.

“This is ridiculous, Masters. Why are you annoyed with me?”

“Because I have come to the obvious conclusion that you are very likely the blackmailer.”

“What on earth?” Iphiginia came to a complete halt. She yanked her arm free and whirled about to confront Marcus. “You go too far, sir. What do you think I am?”

“A clever, scheming little adventuress who has gone
one step beyond the pale.” Marcus’s voice was soft, but it was weighted with steel. “Last night I found your silly masquerade amusing.”

“My lord, please—”

“I was even willing to go along with the charade for a while. I will admit that you are far and away the most interesting female who has crossed my path in some time. However, this morning when I learned the truth, I decided that you were no longer nearly so amusing, madam.”

“No longer amusing? Of all the stupid, idiotic, offensive things to say. You clearly do not know what you are talking about. I will not stand here and listen to your accusations, sir.” Iphiginia turned on her heel. She could hear the tittering laughs of the lounging dandies.

Marcus put out a hand and caught her arm. “Not so fast. I have one or two questions to put to you, Iphiginia.”

“I have better things to do than answer your insulting questions.”

“Such as?”

“Such as find the blackmailer,” Iphiginia hissed. “Let me go, my lord, or I promise you, I shall scream.”

“Devil take it, we are not in Drury Lane. Kindly cease the theatrics.” Marcus brought her forcibly around so that she was once again obliged to face him. “Unless, of course, you want news of this little scene to be all over Town this evening?”

“Why should that concern me? Everyone in Town is already talking about us, my lord.”

“You must believe me when I tell you that the gossip can get a great deal worse than it already is. If you persist in quarreling with me in the middle of a public thoroughfare, I promise you that it will.”

Iphiginia flushed. “Is that a threat, Masters?”

“It is. If you do not maintain at least the pretense of being a lady, I am not going to continue acting the gentleman. I swear, if you try to walk away from me, I shall put you over my shoulder and carry you off to someplace
where we can continue this discussion without an audience.”

Iphiginia was seething. “You would not dare.”

“Would you care to place a wager on that, Iphiginia?” he asked much too softly. “It was one thing for me to carry a swooning lady out of the Fenwicks’ ballroom last night. It will be quite another if I haul you off as though you were a sack of coal this afternoon.”

Iphiginia contemplated her options for a few seconds. She was acutely aware of the growing number of stares aimed in her direction. More than one head had turned. More than one ear was discreetly cocked in an attempt to overhear the fascinating exchange that was taking place between Masters and his new paramour.

It was obvious from the ruthless set of his jaw and the unyielding line of his mouth that Marcus was in a dangerous mood. He was apparently willing to stage a humiliating quarrel for the entertainment of the fashionable shoppers in Pall Mall if Iphiginia did not accede to his wishes.

“Very well, my lord.” She gave him a brittle smile as she placed her gloved fingertips lightly on his arm. “If you insist on playing the role of the wicked troll, so be it.”

“An excellent decision. I have often been cast in the role of the troll and I assure you, I am capable of giving a truly electrifying performance.”

“I do not doubt it for a moment. I would have you know, sir, that during my travels on the Continent this past year I was never once obliged to deal with this sort of ungentlemanly conduct. There was a nasty little street thief in Rome who had better manners.”

“Perhaps one day I shall have the opportunity to take lessons. They do say that travel is broadening. Come, we have drawn enough attention.” Marcus’s fingers closed more tightly around her arm. He resumed the brisk pace along Pall Mall.

“People are staring at us.”

“I should think you would be accustomed to it by
now. Tell me why I should not conclude that you are the blackmailer.”

“First tell me why you came to the conclusion that I was.”

Marcus slanted her an unreadable glance. “You are an exceedingly clever female. You have made a study of me that was so astute it enabled you to fool the
ton
into believing that you are my mistress.”

“We all have our little skills.”

“Your particular skills convince me that you could have delved just as deeply into the background of others and perhaps come up with suitable material for blackmail.”

Iphiginia nearly choked on her outrage. “Material such as that which is being used to blackmail your friend?”

“Precisely.”

“I would never do such a thing.” Iphiginia realized that she was hurt as well as angry and she did not know quite why. Marcus’s alarming conclusions about her were not unreasonable under the circumstances. Nevertheless, she felt wounded by them. “If you knew me better, my lord, you would not make such accusations.”

“Ah, but I do not know you very well at all, do I? Not nearly as well as you appear to know me. And that, madam, has finally begun to worry me.”

“I do not see how I can persuade you of my innocence, nor will I lower myself to even attempt to do so.”

“Then we have a problem on our hands, my dear.” Marcus inclined his head a bare half inch at an acquaintance who nodded from the doorway of a snuff shop.

Iphiginia pretended to focus on some gloves that were displayed in a shop window. She could feel the avid curiosity in the gaze of the man who stood in front of the snuff shop. Indeed, she could feel a dozen pairs of eyes boring into her.

There was very little privacy here in Town. Anonymity
was impossible, especially for any woman whose name was linked with that of the Earl of Masters.

It was almost as bad as living in Deepford, Iphiginia thought resentfully. But at least here in London she would not be subjected to lectures on propriety from the vicar or from the parents of her sister’s in-laws-to-be.

She merely had to listen to such lectures from Marcus.

“You are making a much more difficult problem out of this affair than is necessary,” Iphiginia said forcefully. “But then, something tells me that you are a very difficult man.”

“Regardless of how unpleasant this problem is for you, madam, you may rest assured that until it is resolved, you and I are going to be spending a great deal of time in each other’s company.”

“What is that supposed to mean, my lord?”

“It means that until I am convinced that you are not involved in this blackmail scheme, I intend to keep you very near at hand.” Marcus smiled without any trace of amusement. “Where I can keep an eye on you. How fortunate for me that you have chosen to masquerade as my mistress. It provides the perfect excuse for me to stay very close to you.”

Iphiginia bristled. “What if I decide that I no longer wish to continue the masquerade?”

“It is far too late to change your mind about your role in this charming little play.” Marcus acknowledged another acquaintance with a faint tilt of his head. “You are too deeply into the part.”

“If that is the case, I give you fair warning that I fully intend to proceed with my inquiries. I am determined to discover the identity of the blackmailer.”

“What an odd coincidence. I have set myself precisely the same goal.”

Fulminating, Iphiginia studied him in silence for a moment. “We are going to carry on with our pretense, then?”

“Yes.” Marcus responded to the greeting of an elderly woman who was emerging from a bookshop. “Mrs. Osworth.”

“Masters.”

Iphiginia recognized the beady-eyed lady. She managed a civil smile. “Good day, Mrs. Osworth.”

“Good day to you, Mrs. Bright.” Mrs. Osworth turned her sharp gaze on Marcus. “Lovely day, my lord, is it not?”

“Indeed,” Marcus said.

“I trust we shall be seeing you both at the Lartmores’ ball this evening?” Mrs. Osworth murmured.

“Doubtful,” Marcus said flatly.

“I certainly plan to attend,” Iphiginia said briskly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Marcus’s mouth thin with disapproval. She deliberately brightened her smile. “I understand that Lord Lartmore has a very extensive collection of statuary.”

“Yes, I believe he does,” Mrs. Osworth said. “My husband mentioned it once. I have never seen it myself. I’m not terribly interested in antique statuary. Oh, dear, you must forgive me. I must be off.”

“Yes, of course,” Iphiginia said.

“I have an appointment to interview a woman who is being sent over from the Wycherley Agency. I am seeking a new companion, you know.”

“No, I did not know,” Iphiginia said.

“My last one—a flighty little thing if you must know the truth—ran off two days ago with a young man of absolutely no background. Can you imagine? After all I’d done for the girl. Ungrateful wretch. This time I shall hire someone older. And a good deal plainer. Until this evening, then, my dear.”

“Good day, Mrs. Osworth,” Iphiginia said.

Marcus was silent until Mrs. Osworth was out of earshot. “Why do you wish to go to the Lartmore ball? Bound to be a dead bore.”

“Two reasons,” Iphiginia said crisply. “The first is
that I would dearly love to see Lord Lartmore’s statuary collection.”

“He allows only his closest acquaintances and certain, ah, connoisseurs to tour it.”

“I hope to prevail upon him to show it to me.”

“You wouldn’t be interested. Rather poorly executed copies, for the most part.”

Iphiginia momentarily forgot that she was annoyed with Marcus. “You’ve seen
it?”

“Yes, and you may take my word for it. There is nothing to interest the scholar in Lartmore’s statuary hall.”

“How disappointing. I was so looking forward to viewing his antiquities.”

“Save your time. What was the other reason you wished to attend?”

“To pursue my inquiries, of course. His name is on my list of men who connect your world with that of my aunt’s. And you did play a few hands with Lartmore at your club that night before you left for Yorkshire.”

Marcus eyed her speculatively. “You really have done a most thorough investigation of my activities, have you not?”

“I told you that I had made a close study of your habits.”

“Lartmore is no blackmailer.”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s extremely wealthy. He has no reason to resort to blackmail.”

“Perhaps he has recently suffered some serious reverses in his fortunes.”

“Unlikely,” Marcus said. “As it happens, however, I intend to dine at my club this evening. Afterward I shall arrange to play some cards. One can learn a great deal at the card tables. I shall see if there is any hint of gossip concerning Lartmore’s finances.”

Iphiginia pursed her lips. “I wish I could arrange to play a few hands at some of the gentlemen’s clubs. There is no telling what I might learn.”

“Do not even think about it,” Marcus said. “It’s impossible and well you know it. I shall look for you at the Richardsons’ ball sometime around eleven. I can give you my report.”

“You are attempting to dissuade me from attending the Lartmore ball, are you not?”

“Mrs. Bright, so that you are quite clear on this point, allow me to make it plain that I am ordering you not to go to Lartmore’s.”

“Hmm. My lord, I have a question for you.”

“Yes?”

“Would you care to tell me precisely why your friend is being blackmailed?”

“No, I would not,” Marcus said bluntly. “Surely you do not expect me to divulge a confidence.”

“No, of course not. I merely thought that if I knew the nature of your friend’s secret, I might be able to compare it to the sort of secret information that is being used against my aunt. I cannot help but wonder if there might be some similarities.”

Marcus narrowed his eyes. He looked intrigued in spite of himself. “I don’t suppose you would care to tell me the nature of the secret material that you claim is being used to blackmail Lady Guthrie?”

“No.”

“So I am left to wonder if she really is being blackmailed.”

Iphiginia gave him a lofty smile. “You cannot expect me to trust you with my secrets when you have made it clear that you are not prepared to trust me with yours.”

Marcus’s powerful hand clamped more firmly around her arm. “Your lack of faith in me is going to make it somewhat awkward for us to work together.”

“It certainly will,” Iphiginia agreed. “And your lack of trust in me will have an equally chilling effect on our efforts.”

Marcus gave her a disturbing smile. “It is clear that if we are to break down the barriers of distrust between us,
we must become more intimately acquainted, Mrs. Bright.”

“How do you suggest we go about becoming more closely acquainted, sir?”

“To begin, why don’t you tell me what happened to Mr. Bright?”

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