Hatherleigh laughed under his breath. “You arrogant fool. Do you truly believe you can insert yourself into other people’s business without consequences?”
The words struck oddly, uncomfortably familiar. And then Gideon remembered: he had said something almost identical just a few short weeks ago.
To Beatrice.
A slightly different shape. The same ugly core.
You cannot continue inserting yourself into danger.
His jaw tightened.
Other people’s business.
Other people’s.
And Hatherleigh wasn’t currently after Beatrice, so this must be unrelated to the Vigilance Society’s activities.
And then, all at once, Gideon remembered.
A dim, foul-smelling club on the wrong side of town. Groby seated at a table with a handful of men no decent hostess would invite past her kitchens. Hatherleigh among them, face shadowed, cup in hand, looking far too comfortable beside a man who trafficked in legal threats and rotten claims.
At the time, Gideon had dismissed it as one scoundrel keeping company with another.
But Hatherleigh was here now.
At Dasborough Park.
Masked. Presumably uninvited.
And speaking of profit.
Gideon’s pulse slowed.
“Groby.”
For the first time, Hatherleigh went still.
Then he smiled.
“When a man loses all respectable avenues of funding his life,” Hatherleigh said, “he is forced to consider alternatives.”
“Respectable?” Gideon’s mouth curled. “That is a generous description of seducing heiresses.”
“One does what one must.”
“You must have been offered quite the sum,” Gideon said, “if you are willing to sacrifice any chance of reentering society.”
Hatherleigh scoffed. “I lost that the moment your precious little Lady Beatrice interfered at the Middleton ball.”
At Beatrice’s name, Gideon’s blood chilled.
A quarter of an hour had passed. More than that.
Only moments ago, he had wanted her to appear with a desperation that bordered on agony.
Now he prayed every servant in the house had misplaced the supper, shattered the punch bowl, and allowed the main course to be carried off by foxes if only it kept her inside.
“If you have so much as touched a hair on her head?—”
