Page 42

“Forgive me for being blunt. I have seen the irreparable damage that can occur when a person misjudges another’s character.” He raised his arm, grateful that he remembered the steps well enough to execute them without thought.

She turned, keeping her gaze firmly on him. “You have been duped in the past?”

They moved apart and then came together again.

“An error was made,” he said, not willing to implicate his father. “It damaged my family and all in our sphere.” He circled her. “That is why I hesitate to draw conclusions about another without serious consideration.”

“I have attempted a similar approach recently,” she said. “It is not easily done.” She circled him again, and when she faced him once more, there was curiosity in her eyes. “We have not known each other long, I admit, but I shall be brave and ask your assessment of me thus far.”

Adam’s opinion of Miss Hadford was changing more rapidly than he cared to admit—especially to the lady in question. He took the few moments they danced apart to formulate his response.

“I will answer your question by responding to the one I posed to you,” he said. “I think you unwittingly defined yourself when you described Emily. You are beautiful to behold, but I believe there is considerably more to you than what meets the eye.”

They continued through the set, her movements flowing naturally even as a hint of color touched her cheeks.

“And now it is your turn,” he said, emboldened by the knowledge that his compliment was the cause of her blush. “It is time for you to share your assessment of me.”

They stepped toward each other. She faced him, but two small creases lined her brow. “I do not know the details of your past, my lord, but I do not think you are the villain you are accused of being.”

He missed a step. “I am considered a villain?”

His shock must have manifested itself in his voice because confusion clouded her eyes. She turned another circle. “You did not know?”

Adam’s thought’s whirled in unison with Miss Hadford’s skirts. The slights, the whispers, the stares—they were suddenly more significant. He saw the shunning of Emily whilst she stood at his side versus her acceptance after Miss Hadford orchestrated her introduction to Lady Bloxley with fresh eyes. Emily had been given her Ladyship’s approval, and that had been sufficient to remove her from under his shadow. Miss Hadford had known. That had been her goal all along.

“What exactly are people saying about me?”

He could not imagine what manner of maligning rumors had been spread over the last five years. His absence had surely fueled any potential embers into a fiery inferno.

The music had ended. He had not noticed until now. But all around him, couples were leaving the dance floor. Miss Hadford stood facing him. If he did not know better, he would say there were tears in her eyes.

He clenched his fists. “I ask you again, Miss Hadford, what are people saying about me?”

“That . . .” She swallowed. “That you lost your entire family fortune in a drunken wager, and . . . and that the shock of it killed your father.”

Pain, deep and cutting, slashed through his chest. He caught his breath in a vain attempt to control it. The unfairness of the accusation paled in comparison to the knowledge that those who knew him believed him capable of such a thing.

“I see.” He led her off the dance floor. They were still several feet from the other guests when he stopped. Releasing her hand, he bowed. It was all he had left to give. “I am twice amazed that you consented to dance with so vile a man, Miss Hadford. Forgive me for not walking you all the way back to your friends. I find that I must locate my sister immediately.”

Then he did the unthinkable. He turned on his heel and left Miss Hadford standing alone at the edge the ballroom.

The letter had come—and in excellent time. Freddie carried it to the small writing desk in his makeshift accommodations and set it down. Taking a knife, he held the blade over the candle’s flame long enough to warm the metal, then he slid it carefully beneath the seal. As he had hoped, the hardened wax peeled off the paper in an undamaged lump. Setting it aside, Freddie unfolded the paper.

Voorburgwal 95, Amsterdam

23 September 1788

Dear Mr. Wilmott,

I was pleased to receive your recent correspondence and to learn of your interest in investing in den Haan Textiles. I consider my company’s products to be second to none, and I am delighted to know that the excellence we strive to achieve in the Dutch Republic has been duly noted in England.

New printing techniques are being developed as we speak, and although they will require considerable funding to implement, I am confident that the financial remuneration to be recouped by our investors shall be considerable.

If you remain interested in backing this venture, might I suggest a visit to Amsterdam. I should be most happy to give you a tour of our facility followed by an overview of our future plans. Please make arrangements to come at your earliest convenience.

Yours sincerely,

Willem den Haan