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"Really? How does it involve you?" Making an obvious show of widening her eyes, she looked up at him with mock dismay. "Oh, I'm sorry. You must have been one of my lovers. I find it so hard to recall them all."
His eyes narrowed as if her words had been a slap, then a sneer twisted his mouth as he leaned close. "Believe me, my lady. If I'd been one of your lovers, you'd remember it."
"Truly?" Alexandra let her gaze drift down to rest on the front of his trousers.
His fists tightened to rock on her desk. "Dinna think—" he began, but she cut him off again.
"You are not the first man to come here on the scent of easy prey. A ruined woman who just happens to be an heiress? Is that what you were thinking? Not very original, Mr. Blackburn. Please get out of my home."
"John Tibbenham was my brother."
Alexandra stared at him for a moment, rage trapped like ice in her chest, cracking against her ribs. When his words sunk past the roar of blood in her ears, she flinched and looked down, back to her rumpled papers, away from the hate in his eyes. The heat that had rushed to her cheeks drained away.
John's brother. He had mentioned a half brother once, as they'd trotted through a long country dance. Not the night he'd died. Perhaps the night before.
"I'm so sorry," she breathed and braved a glance at him. "I didn't realize."
He only stared at her until she couldn't hold his gaze any longer, until she flinched in shame. Her fingers smoothed the corner of a letter over and over again. "I am so sorry about your brother," she said more loudly and clasped her hands tight together to cease their movement.
"I'm looking for St. Claire. I would see him brought to justice."
"I don't know where he is."
"The man murdered my brother."
Alexandra took a deep breath and tried to gather her courage. She was not a cringing woman. It was just this one thing, this one night, that shamed her. Straightening her spine, she forced herself to look him in the eye. "His death was terrible. The duel was ridiculous. Still, your brother was the one who issued the challenge. I have no idea what happened afterward, but John challenged St. Claire."
"Regardless of your opinion, St. Claire is a criminal. Killing a man in a duel is still killing."
"I can't help you. I don't know where he is. It's been . . . It's been more than a year."
The office door opened and a maid poked her capped head inside, nodding toward the tea tray she held. The interruption should have been a relief, but Alexandra could not bear to extend this visit even a moment longer than necessary. She waved the tea away, and the thud of the closing door drummed against the silence of the room.
"You are telling me that this man was your . . . special friend, that he fought a duel over you—a duel that left him a fugitive—and he has never once contacted you?"
Was there any blood at all left in her veins? Her heart fluttered desperately. "Yes."
"St. Claire arranged for my brother to walk in on the two of you."
"What?"
"He wanted to be caught in an indecent position with you."
She blinked several times, felt the twist of her heart regaining its strength, and shook her head. "That's absurd."
"My brother was in the middle of a game of faro when he told his friends he had to meet St. Claire. William Bunting said John went straight to that study. He did not just happen upon you."
"But. . . That cannot be true."
"St. Claire used you."
Alexandra clutched the edge of her desk and surged unsteadily to her feet.
"He told my brother to meet him because he wanted to be caught with a hand up your skirts. It's the truth. John's father looked into this quite thoroughly, I assure you. You needn't protect St. Claire. He is a man without scruples."
Oh God, that was far too easy to believe. She'd been so young when she'd met him, only seventeen, and so thrilled to be running with a fast crowd. A true gentleman would never have accommodated her, but that had been the point, hadn't it? To dance on the edge of respectability?
"I did not wish to involve you in this. Your brother and John's father were both quite clear that I leave you out of it. But I've been after him for nine months and all my leads have run out."
