Page 47 of Devil in Her Details

A rumor?

That could work.

But it would have to be a life-altering rumor that sent him back to London as though the devil himself were nipping at his heels.

Did such a rumor even exist?

Calvington, Calvington, Calvington.

What did that alligator care about most?

Lilly shifted onto her side, her eyes narrowing as possibilities unfurled. What if word reached London that he had been refused entry at a gaming hell? Not merely refused but barred. Accused of cheating. Of stacking the deck. Men had been shot for less. Would his precious reputation among gentlemen not curdle overnight?

Perhaps, perhaps not.

Or better yet, what if it were said he had been refused by another duke’s daughter after he desperately pleaded for her hand in marriage? Pressed his suit beyond decency. One girl, people might gloss over. Two? That would imply a pattern, correct? It might even stir more speculation on the reason for his desperation. Such as . . . empty family coffers? That sort of whisper put a man and his movements squarely under a looking glass. Every single thing he did, every single purchase he made, would be scrutinized. Picked apart.

Mamas would whisper. Doors would close. Invitations would vanish as though they had never existed.

Her lips curved slowly.

Or perhaps something darker . . . something far less deniable. Rumors of how he filled those coffers?

Smuggling?

Why not? Look at those ruffians he’d hired. So let it be known he had dealings along the coast—ships arriving at odd hours, crates unloaded with undue haste. Contraband. French goods. Pirate names tied to treason. Nothing sent a man scrambling faster than the faintest whiff of government interest.

She exhaled, pulse quickening.

No, not just one rumor.

A web.

Let him try to outrun that! He wouldn’t have any time to harass her. Come to think about it, she’d never asked or inquired why the rogue was so dead set on her hand in marriage. She had a sizable dowry, to be sure, but did that warrant such obsession? There were ladies with bigger dowries than hers. Willing ladies, too. Ladies who would dash to the marquess for the title of marchioness alone.

Why had he fixated on her?

She would have to ask him next time their paths crossed, though she hoped that never came to pass.

She glanced over at the window. The last rays of light stretched into the chamber. She shouldn’t have taken a nap that spilled over into late afternoon. Now she’d get no sleep tonight. Just as well. She had a pile of rumors to sort through.

An unexcepted, and supremely chilling creak came from outside her bedchamber followed by an even louder curse.

Lilly shot upright, her heart setting off at an instant gallop.

Someone had broken into her house!

“Lilly?” a soft hiss came.

She blinked, scrambling from the bed. Dagger? She’d recognize his voice anywhere. She padded over and yanked the door open, stepping into the hallway. The moment she spotted him, all big and formidable, her heartbeat settled, then bolted for a different reason altogether. He was in her house. Her intimate space. And they were alone.

“What are you doing here?” Lilly had meant to send a note with his brother, but she’d been too exhausted at the time and had simply wished to escape to her bed. Truthfully, looking at Dagger now, she understood the real reason she hadn’t. Some part of her had expected him to follow. Wanted him to follow. She didn’t want to end this with a note. “I didn’t take you for a burglar.”

“You shouldn’t have left without me,” he said softly.

“Why not?” Lilly challenged, his earlier jab coming to mind. “I’d rather be home than stay at a place where I’m not wanted.”

His eyes flashed. “I wouldn’t have brought you to my home if I didn’t want you there.”