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t would finally reveal to the world the truth of Lord Debenham’s treachery, and thus her future husband’s innocence. Yes, Sir Aubrey was, without a doubt, the man of her dreams. With the incendiary, incriminating letter detailing Lord Debeham’s depravity pricking into her skin she wondered how she could for one moment have entertained ideas of allying herself with wicked Viscount Debenham.

She adjusted the veil that ensured her anonymity, ran her clammy hands down her red and gold flounced skirts and shivered with the thrill of simply being alone and unchaperoned. Any guilt or doubt about what she was about to embark upon could not be entertained. Of course, her Mama would be horrified if she knew what Araminta was about to do, and in fact Araminta did feel a trifle uncomfortable about sending Hetty off in the direction of Lord Debenham’s supper box.

When Hetty had discovered the letter missing a few minutes ago, Araminta had told her she’d given it to Lord Debenham, whereupon the silly girl had immediately run off to beg him for its return. It was almost as if Hetty had imagined that by presenting the letter to Sir Aubrey, he’d convey his gratitude through a marriage offer.

Yes, Araminta acknowledged it had been wrong to send Hetty off, alone, to confront such a dangerous man as Lord Debenham, but what choice had she had? She’d rather share dreadful Cousin Edgar’s fate and drown in a duck pond than finish a second season without an offer.

And it was unthinkable that Hetty might receive an offer first.

Araminta took a final deep breath, adjusted the lace that edged her décolletage, and stepped up to the door of Sir Aubrey’s supper box.

As long as the means justified the glorious outcome she had in mind, she’d be forgiven. It was only natural Sir Aubrey would wish to reward her bravery in seeing him vindicated, his reputation restored and Lord Debenham branded the villain he really was.

Her family would forgive her for the same reasons. And Araminta would be the beautiful consort at Sir Aubrey side, responsible for his rise from beleaguered politician to one of the leading peers in the land. Only last night Araminta had heard whispers that the health of the ailing, childless uncle to whom he was heir had taken a turn for the worse.

The strains of Haydn drifted across from the orchestra, mingling with the aroma of roasted chestnuts from a nearby brazier. Araminta felt almost giddy with her own boldness but as she raised her hand to knock, her courage almost failed her, which was rare indeed.

Then she thought of his astonishment when she presented him with the letter, and of the kisses he’d rain all over her as he begged her to marry him; and excitement curdled in her belly. She was conscious of a tremendous heat between her legs, similar to the sensations she’d felt when Jem had been so overcome with desire that he’d all but kidnapped her before kissing her so passionately in the tavern. She pushed aside the intruding memory of Lord Debenham’s kiss in the hackney carriage shortly afterwards. She couldn’t deny the excitement she’d felt at the time, but upon reflection she was glad she’d pursued the safer option: Sir Aubrey.

Quietly, she turned the door knob and slowly opened the door. Her moment had nearly come. Soon, Sir Aubrey and she would realize their shared destiny. Yes, indeed, victory was about to be hers.

With heart beating wildly, she stepped across the threshold. In just a moment she would drop the gauze veil and Sir Aubrey would spring to his feet in a blaze of hungry ardor that she’d so boldly taken steps to be alone with him.

She put her hand to the ribbons that tied the veil in place and her heart beat even more wildly. Her body was on fire. There he was, sprawled upon a sea of cushions, it appeared, his eyes lust-laden as he focused them on her. He’d obviously heard her enter for he swung round, still sprawled amidst the cushions. He didn’t even rise though the wicked glint in his eye made up for that.

And then he spoke. Words that stole the breath from her lungs and left her crazy with dismay. Then blood lust.

His voice was a low growl, dangerous with desire. “Hetty? Is that you, my darling? Come! My, my, so this is what you had in store for me.”

Chapter Nine

A cool breeze had sprung up. Cosmo rubbed his hands together as he and Lissa decided the final points on how to proceed, beneath an overhanging tree branch upon which two lanterns swung.

“I predict rich pickings, Miss Hazlett,” Cosmo remarked happily, encompassing the supper house a few yards away with a sweep of his arm. “Why, they’ve not even gone to the trouble of putting out the lantern hanging by the entrance. Very accommodating.” He chuckled. “You must make detailed sketches of their clothes so their identities might be further verified. Mrs. Crossing’s, in particular. Her husband is an exacting man.”

It was at this point Lissa realized she could not go ahead with the arrangement. An exacting man. Earlier, as she’d watched from the darkness while Mr. Crossing and Cosmo had talked near the rotunda, she’d been struck by Mr. Crossing’s belligerent manner. Even from a distance he’d appeared a frightening man, broad-shouldered with a massive head upon a bull-like neck. The way he’d waved his fists around reminded Lissa of two pork knuckles aggressively facing each other off in mid air.

Now she realized that she was about to become party to a situation that may well endanger the anonymous woman in that supper box.

“I can’t do it,” she whispered, raising her head to look at Cosmo. “Even if she is guilty, it’s not right.”

Cosmo’s mouth dropped open, as if he truly were caught by surprise. “What do you mean, you won’t do it? You’re as motivated by the riches that will come your way as I am. Besides, I’ve made a pledge and the pair is only a stone’s throw away. You must do it. I can’t be made to look a fool.”

Cosmo put his hands on her shoulders and drew her into the light. He looked more panicked than menacing. “You will do it, otherwise I’ll tell Mama about your young man. You know you’re not allowed followers. I’ll tell her he’s been making improper advances and that you’ve encouraged him. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you looked at him when he came to visit. And he at you. Something is going on. Well, let me tell you, Mama will happily shred his reputation, if you’re not so worried about your own. She’s very effective at that sort of thing. So do your job and do it well, Miss Hazlett, if you don’t want to suffer the consequences.”

Lissa shook off his grasp and rose. She hated this man who wielded his power in such a petty, tyrannical fashion. Of course, she could expose him and leave the Lamont household but the exhilaration she’d felt when Cosmo had unexpectedly thrust a sovereign into her hand after dinner had coalesced into a sense of her value and increasing power. He’d never have done such a thing if he’d not realized how reliant he was on her. Between his threats and the unexpected money, she saw that clearly.

So Lissa refrained from her impulse to flounce off into the night. To leave Cosmo, the Lamonts and London meant abandoning this arrangement, her only avenue towards independence.

“Your threats don’t frighten me, Master Cosmo, because I know you need me too much,” she said calmly. “But you will continue to pay me, as agreed, for if you do not, I have no incentive for staying or for keeping our arrangement secret.”

This had the desired effect. Of course he was frightened of exposure, though he hid it well enough. Just as Lissa hid her grave misgivings about what she was about to do as they trod the dark stretch of grass in silence.

Perhaps they would be confronted with a scene of perfect innocence. Perhaps the couple had slipped away already, unnoticed. She tried one final gambit. “This wasn’t what I agreed to do when I said I would do your sketches,” she whispered as they paused by a statue of a small boy. “It’s...so sordid. Please, Master Cosmo. Surely you can tell Mr. Crossing you never saw his wife. Just this once?”

“Do you know how much Mr. Crossing has offered?” Cosmo sounded determined. “Miss Hazlett, he has seen the detail in those sketches and tells me only a master could render such an exact likeness in just a few quick strokes. Do you realize how valuable th

is is? I can garner so many more such commissions. I can make a fortune from this! We can make a fortune, but we need to work together.”

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