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“Sylvia.”Her name burst from him. Rafe couldn’t let her do this. Exposing herself to these men would only complicate things for her. Things Rafe couldn’t fix.
She approached him, and he felt a vicious tug on his heart at the pleading look in her eyes. “Tell them. Tell them it’s true.”
“If I do, it willruinyou,” he hissed as desperation bubbled through him. With every second that passed, another crack appeared in the careful facade she had created. Soon it would shatter completely.
“I don’t care.” She shook her head. “I don’t care anymore.”
Before Rafe could respond to that inane statement, Wardale roared from across the room, “You cannot listen to a word this woman says. She is obviously lying in a desperate attempt to protect herlover.”
Some of the men voiced their outrage, while others grumbled that it was patently absurd until Lord Templeton, who had been silent this entire time, chose that moment to clear his throat and step forward. “It’s true. I saw them together earlier.”
Rafe muttered a curse. This was growing worse by the second.
Sylvia turned to face her accusers. “I amnotlying. Mr. Wardale wanted someone to spy on Viscount Arlington. So he used information he had about my past to force my hand.”
Lord Caldwell frowned. “Exactly what kind of information?”
Rafe’s breath caught, but Sylvia didn’t even hesitate. “That I was once arrested and publicly accused of harboring anarchistic sympathies. Then in order to gain my position with Mrs. Crawford, I lied about my identity.” She looked back at Rafe. “Which is true.”
The room exploded in an uproar as the men all began talking at once, arguing over what to do with the pair of them.
Rafe closed his eyes as regret tore through him. He sensed someone move behind him to loosen his bindings and turned around. It was Sylvia.
“You shouldn’t have done that. You’ve destroyed your credibility for nothing. Now Wardale will simply accuse us both. And this mob will believe him.”
“It wasn’t for nothing.” She kept her eyes fixed on untying his wrists. “I couldn’t stand back and let you sacrifice yourself.”
“That is what Ido,” he bit off. Christ, did she really think her little confession was enough to save him?
She looked up at him, and their gazes locked together for an agonizing moment. The room suddenly went quiet as someone else entered.
It was the viscountess. “I was coming down the hall and heard everything,” she explained unprompted.
“Then you know what this vile woman—thisharlothas done,” Wardale said, still trying to maintain control of the situation.
But the viscountess narrowed her eyes and stood even straighter. “That is my dear friend you speak so ill of, Mr. Wardale. I am here to defend Miss Sparrow’s character. And to take full responsibility for her deception, which, frankly, is a family matter and not any of your concern,” she added, now addressing the entire room.
Sylvia went still behind Rafe. “Oh God,” she whispered.
“Miss Sparrow was slandered years ago, thanks to a cowardly man and the newspapers’ insatiable thirst for gossip. When she asked for my help to find a position, I knew she would be the perfect companion for my aunt, but the viscount would be incapable of looking past her tarnished reputation. So together we created a fake name and credentials in order to deceive my husband. I don’t know how Mr. Wardale learned of our actions, but I have my suspicions, and they paint an ugly picture,” she said as she slanted him a scowl. “In any case, Miss Sparrow is telling the truth. And though you may not want to believe her, you can hardly say the same of me. Isn’t that correct, gentlemen?”
The room was so silent, one could have heard a pin drop. Then Lord Caldwell stepped forward.
“Of course, my lady.” The other men immediately mumbled their agreements.
Georgiana gave a single nod. “Then we will wait for the authorities to arrive, and we will stop treating Mr. Davies like a convicted criminal.”
Rafe pulled his hands loose and rose. No one moved to stop him, and for the first time that evening, Wardale looked worried.
Sylvia rushed over to the viscountess. She had just admitted to a room full of peers that she had conspired to deceive her husband, who was not known for his forgiving nature. Though her declaration had swayed the other men against Wardale for the time being, Rafe was concerned for what lay ahead. But Lady Arlington was practically glowing. It was as if an invisible chain had been removed from her person. As if the truth really had set her free. Just as a kind of envy began to trickle through him, someone announced that the police were coming up the drive. It was the first time in hours Rafe felt anything close to relief. There was still no guarantee that these men would listen, but they would be a hell of a lot easier to convince than Wardale’s friends.
And Rafe needed any chance he could get.
***
Sylvia stood with Georgiana in watchful silence as a group of Glaswegian policemen headed by a stern-looking constable swarmed through the study. No one bothered to approach them at first, as it was assumed the two ladies were too overcome to provide any useful information. Through all of this Mr. Wardale remained seated behind his desk, his eyes never leaving Rafe. It turned out the police had already been tipped off by an associate of Rafe’s—Sylvia didn’t know the particulars—so he was treated as a colleague, not a suspect. Eventually, the guests were told to head back to their rooms. More extensive interviews would be conducted in the morning. For now it was best to get some sleep. Georgiana moved to leave, but Sylvia hung back a little, waiting for Rafe to at least acknowledge her presence.
“Come, dear,” Georgiana murmured. “We aren’t needed.” She hooked her arm through Sylvia’s and tugged her into the hallway. The viscountess was still talking, but Sylvia didn’t hear a word as Rafe finally looked over at her through the open doorway. His arms were crossed, his necktie was loosened, and his handsome face was twisted in a frown. She had never seen him look so intimidating. Commanding. And dangerous.
