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Rafe stared at Sylvia’s profile. He could see the fear behind her frustration. For whatever reason, she didn’t want the authorities involved. But Rafe would have to reassure her later. He couldn’t quite explain it, but something else about these letters was off. Rafe frowned and began going through them again one by one. Sylvia was right about the “e” key, but that wasn’t what was sticking out to him. It was something else. Something that was just out of reach. He had to close his eyes for a moment to keep them from crossing, then moved on to the next letter. It was addressed to a Mr. Drummond, apparently the owner of a drapery shop, and appeared to ask for the monthly rent payment. But something caught his eye in the top corner. The property was listed at a tony Mayfair address, and Rafe happened to know there was no drapery shop there.
Because it was his brother’s town house.
He then went back and checked the previous letters. One was for an address in Belgravia. Another for Portman Square. A third for a home he happened to know belonged to a cabinet minister.
“My God,” he swore. “He’s blackmailing the lot of them.” Rafe would have been tempted to be impressed by Wardale’s audacity if he weren’t caught in the middle.
“What? What is it?” Sylvia tugged on his arm, but Rafe immediately bent down and pulled out the remaining folders. Most contained similar documents, but at the very end of the last folder he found what he was looking for.
“You were better staying disorganized, you wily bastard,” he muttered.
Sylvia took the document and scanned it. “I don’t understand. Why does he need a list of lords and politicians?”
Rafe tapped the far column. “For that.” It listed the alias used for every man, in every letter. “See this?” He pointed to a letter. “I believe Mr. Drummond is actually my brother.” He then ran his finger under Gerard’s name and the corresponding columns that listed his alias and an amount of money that made Rafe choke a little.
Sylvia’s eyes widened. “He’s given Wardalethatmuch? For what?”
“I have no idea. Truly. Gerard is meticulous about his public image. He never even goes outside without so much as a hair out of place. Whatever Wardale has on him must be…earth-shattering.”
Rafe immediately began replacing the papers in the corresponding folders.
“Wait,” Sylvia protested. “That’s more than enough evidence.”
Rafe shook his head and continued to put the folders away, working through the panic slowly brewing in his stomach. “No. You don’t know what this means. Even I don’t fully understand. Some of the most powerful men in the country are on this list, Sylvia. They areallpaying Wardale a king’s ransom.” And at the moment he was complicit. Just thinking the words made him break out in a cold sweat. Only Gerard knew he was here, and the provided reason was likely a load of horse shit. Henry had been right all along. There were no Scottish separatists, just Rafe rifling through his guests’ personal belongings to provide more fodder for blackmail. Nearly every man he could think to approach with this information was mentioned here. He could claim he had been lured here under false pretenses, but would anyone believe him?
He closed the drawer and fastened the lock as best he could, then rose to face Sylvia. She had gone as white as a sheet. “We need to leave. Immediately.”
“What?” she sputtered, but Rafe was already pulling her toward the door. “But what about the authorities?”
“I’m not sure who can help us at the moment. I need more time.”
“But I can’t just leave. What about Georgiana? And Mrs. Crawford?”
Rafe halted and gripped her by the shoulders. “Do they know anything? Anything at all?”
“Of course not, but—”
“Good. Then they shouldn’t be in any danger.” It also meant Rafe wouldn’t have to find a way to spirit away a viscountess and a septuagenarian to Glasgow under the cover of darkness. He needed to speak to Henry first.
Sylvia’s mouth dropped open. “You—you thinkwe’rein danger?”
“Yes. We’ve uncovered a very powerful secret, and I don’t know how far Wardale will go to keep us silent. Or what he might demand from both of us if he realizes what we know. Blackmail could be the least of what he is capable of. And he clearly has the connections to make any number of things possible.” Sylvia blanched.
“He warned me to stay away from you, you know,” Rafe continued. “At the time I thought he was simply concerned for your reputation, but I think he wanted to make sure we didn’t grow close and compare stories.” Sylvia looked away and gave a single nod in agreement. There was more she wasn’t telling him. And when they were far from here, he planned to get some damned answers from her.
“If you’re still worried about the viscountess, we can smooth things over with her later, but for now I think it’s best if we leave.” He brushed his hand along her jaw and tilted her chin up to meet his eyes. “Agreed?”
As Sylvia held his gaze, those wide gray eyes filled with curiosity. And suspicion. “You aren’t really a rake at all, are you?” she murmured.
The relief in her voice made him smile. “I most assuredlyam,” he said as he pulled back and took her arm in his. “And much, much more.”
Rafe locked the study door and guided Sylvia down the hallway, which was thankfully still empty. The other guests should be mingling over after-dinner drinks and card games. Rafe prayed that gave them enough time to slip away. He waited as Sylvia grabbed a coat and quickly packed a small bag; then they slipped into his rooms, where he retrieved his long coat, hat, and checkbook.
Rafe then knocked on Tully’s door before he entered. His valet was seated by the fire with an open book on his lap.
“I have to leave. No, don’t get up. Here.” Rafe dashed off Henry’s address on a slip of paper. “If you need to contact me, use this address. Don’t give this to anyone. If you are asked, I was never here. Understand?”
Tully nodded. “Perfectly.”
