“Lord Dunham?”
At his curt nod, the man discreetly slipped a note into the earl’s hand while passing him a glass of champagne. “There was an urchin below who insisted this be delivered to you immediately, my lord.”
Fourteen
“Guv, I think you had best come quick. The lady in question has just left her house.”
Choking back a string of curses, Marcus quickly tucked the scrap of paper in his waistcoat pocket while taking a swallow of the champagne. Then carefully schooling his features to mask his inner agitation, he set the glass aside.
“Oh dear,” whispered Marianne, not failing to note the tightening of his jaw. “Has Gus …” She left the question dangling.
“Do not alarm yourself, Lady Marianne,” Marcus answered in a low voice. But he added no further explanation as he surveyed the crowded room. His eyes narrowed slightly on failing to spot what he was looking for, but in the fashionable crush, he couldn’t be certain. He had at least managed to catch the attention of his young cousin, who had been hovering nearby.
Andover hurriedly quit a circle of young bucks ogling a particularly well-endowed miss on the dance floor and came to stand by the earl’s shoulder.
“Lucas, I trust you will see that Lady Marianne has a pleasant evening and that she and her mother are escorted to their carriage.” The note of command was unmistakable in his tone.
“Of course, sir.”
“But—” began Marianne.
“I fear I am called away by a trifling matter.” He fixed her with a pointed look. “But I have no doubt that I shall be able to see to it without causing any need for worry.”
Marianne ceased any further protest. “Yes, sir,” she said slowly. “I trust that you are capable of handling any problem which may arise.”
Andover looked slightly confused at the odd exchange, but maintained a prudent silence as Marcus yielded his place by Marianne’s side.
“There’s no cause for concern,” he added, on noting that despite his words, her face had gone a shade paler. “I shall see to everything.”
No cause for concern, he repeated to himself as he left the ballroom. Ha! The maddening minx.What was she up to this time?He forced his steps to remain unrushed, though a mixture of anger, exasperation and fear had him imagining the worst. Once out on the street, he picked up his pace, threading in and out of the clog of carriages in a rush to locate his own. The man he had employed to keep an eye on Augusta would be waiting for him at the corner of the park and, from the tone of his hastily scrawled note, there didn’t appear to be any time to waste.
So intent was he on deciding his next move that he didn’t notice the two cloaked men who had slipped up behind him until the cold barrel of a pistol was jammed into his ribs.
“Get in the carriage, m’lord.”
A nondescript vehicle, undistinguished by any markings, had slowed to stop and the door was jerked open. Marcus hesitated a fraction but a rough hand tightened its hold on his coatand shoved him forward. “Quickly, else it’ll go worse fer ye, I promise.”
There seemed little choice but to comply. He turned to climb in, and as he did, the butt of the weapon came down on his head with a sickening thud.
Augusta peeredup at the darkened window and swallowed the rising lump in her throat. At home, in the warm confines of her study, it had seemed like a reasonable decision. But now, alone in the deserted alleyway, she found herself fighting the urge to turn tail and abandon her plan.
Coward, she chastised herself. Just because she hadn’t ever undertaken this sort of foray without the reassuring presence of Jamison was no reason to panic. She was perfectly capable of climbing up to a window ledge and freeing the catch of the window by herself. And hadn’t she proved that she could pick a desk lock as well as any thief? The memory of that first encounter with Marcus came flooding back, sparking a tiny smile at the recollection of how she and the earl had been forced to work together in order to cover the real reason for the break-in …
Her amusement turned into something warmer as she also recalled the heat of his muscled form pressed hard on top of hers.
Then, with a quick shake of her head, Augusta sought to banish all such thoughts. It was abundantly clear she would never again enjoy a camaraderie with the earl in any endeavor—not even on paper. Her mother was right. She was a most unnatural female, with not a single attribute that a gentlemanwould find attractive … unless one counted money as a particular charm.
Well, the Earl of Dunham didn’t need money. And so he certainly had no other reason to seek her company. His words burned once again in her ears, each one singeing a little piece of her heart.
Cold. Shallow. Opinionated.
Augusta blinked back a tear. He might find her all those things, but she was at least determined to prove to him there was nothing wrong with her capacity for clever planning, no matter her other faults. Perhaps if she managed to get hold of the concrete evidence to prove Lord Ludlowe’s perfidy, he would end up considering her not totally unworthy of regard.
Not that it would change things between them.
Her own sharp tongue had cut through whatever tenuous bond had been forged between them, and no amount of remorse could repair the damage. Never again would she feel the warmth of his hand at the small of her back, just as never again would she read the elegant script of his letters.
A stray cat brushed up against her leg, nearly drawing an audible gasp from her lips. With shaking hands, Augusta pulled the heavy cloak tighter around her shoulders and sought to quiet the pounding of her heart. After several minutes, she was able to steady both her nerves and her resolve to go ahead with her plan.
