Page 86 of Scandal’s Daughter

Chapter 34

“Wherein revenge is served with cool satisfaction.”

They returned Lord Nibley home and then Georgiana, with as little noise and attention as was possible. Céleste had sent all the servants to bed as she’d been told to and took Georgiana up to bed herself, nodding at her husband’s instruction to burn the bloody clothes she wore without so much as a blink.

Sindalton climbed back into the carriage with Falmouth after promising Georgiana that he would come to no harm and would call on her as soon as he was able.

He faced Falmouth across the carriage and wondered how it had come to pass that in the same night he’d shot his best friend, he found himself allied with a man who considered him an enemy.

“I’ve never had the chance to apologise,” he said, his voice uncomfortably loud in the confines of the dark carriage. Falmouth’s cold grey eyes glinted, his face devoid of emotion. “For what happened with ...”

“When you sent my ex-mistress to my house to cause a scene and the woman I loved to flee, you mean?” the earl said with a smile that looked like he wanted to rip his throat out, with his teeth.

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Yes. For that.”

“Then please do.”

God he was a cold bastard, Sebastian thought, though not without a grudging admiration.

“I thought you were using her,” he admitted. “I had no idea you were offering marriage. Your reputation was not the kind that made the thought enter my head.”

He saw something in the man’s posture shift a little, the taut line of his jaw perhaps a little less rigid.

“I’d never been in love before,” he said, his tone gruff.

Sebastian laughed, nodding.

“I know just what you mean ... with Georgiana!” he added, seeing the murderous glint return to the earl’s expression. “Anyway, I am sorry for it. I had no idea of the mischief the woman would cause, but she clearly had her own agenda.”

Falmouth grunted. “That she did,” he replied, his tone dry as he stretched his long legs out in the confines of the carriage.

They were quiet for a moment, the rumble of the carriage through the dark streets of the capital the only sound.

“Thank you,” Sebastian said, needing to make him understand that he was only too aware how deeply he stood in the man’s debt. “For tonight, and for everything you did in ... in giving Georgiana her come out. She’s told me how very kind and generous you’ve been.”

“I only did it to annoy you,” Falmouth replied, and this time the smile was genuine.

Sebastian laughed. “Well, that I do believe.” He frowned, suddenly more than curious about the enigmatic earl. His reputation was that of a dark and violent character and judging from the motley crew that had turned up with him tonight, Sebastian was only too willing to believe it. “Who are those men?” he demanded. “And why does the word pirate spring to mind whenever I look at them?”

The earl just gave him an inscrutable smile and shrugged. “I have no idea what you mean, your grace.”

***

The Baron Dalton’s town residence was an elegant, stuccoed house on Upper Wimpole Street.

Whilst not an address of the haut ton, it was home to the wealthiest on the fringes of that exclusive world, and the nouveau riche.

The carriage took them some way past the house, stopping quietly and moving swiftly on as Sebastian, the earl and those of his men who had ridden on the outside, jumped down.

Another carriage, some distance farther back, also disgorged a number of rather terrifying looking occupants who, at a gesture from the earl, disappeared to the rear of the house.

Moving quickly and with surprising stealth, the earl motioned for Mousy, the unlikely name of the largest man Sebastian had ever seen in his life, to go to the front door.

This the big man did and crouched down, with some small iron pins in his hand. To Sebastian’s surprise the front door sprang open, without the faintest sign of protest, and he and Falmouth stepped inside with Mousy and two other armed men at their backs.

There was a quiet scuffling sound from below stairs which was quickly subdued, and then a large, barrel-shaped man stuck his tattooed arm around the door signalling them to enter with a rather devilish grin.

“Well done, Harry,” Falmouth said, nodding his approval. The men spread out, opening doors and checking the downstairs rooms were empty before they made their way up the stairs.