The Danger in Tempting an Earl

by Sophie Barnes

  It was another two hours before Patricia announced that while she’d had a lovely evening, she desperately longed for the rest sleep offered. “I’m constantly fatigued these days,” she said. “But the worst part of it is that sleep often evades me because I cannot seem to get comfortable with this enormous belly.”

  “I think you look lovely,” Gray told her dutifully.

  “And I think I look and feel as if I swallowed a cannonball.”

  Katherine smiled at her friend. “It will soon be over,” she told her reassuringly.”

  Lucien accompanied them all out while Katherine remained in the parlor with Lady Roxberry, who immediately yawned when Lucien returned. “Well, I’m feeling rather exhausted myself,” she said as she rose to her feet.

  “You wouldn’t care for another sherry?” Lucien asked.

  “Oh no. I’ll be more content with the tea that I asked one of your maids to send up so I’d have it before bed. You go ahead though, if you like. I’ll see you both in the morning.” And then she left without saying anything further.

  Katherine stared after her, as did Lucien. “No word of warning?” he muttered. “How unlike her.” Turning to look at Katherine, his eyes narrowed a little before he finally said, “What were you really talking about earlier, before we gentlemen interrupted? You looked quite flushed, if I recall.”

  “And so I shall again if we don’t change the subject of conversation, but if you must know, they were all quite eager to discover if you and I had . . . well . . . you know.”

  “Including my grandmamma?” He sounded horrified at the notion, which she supposed was justified, even though he ought to have expected it. He, better than anyone else, knew how surprising the lady could be.

  “No, it was mostly Lady Huntley, actually. Your grandmother was apparently quite certain that we’d already been intimate with each other, and she was not opposed to saying so.”

  “Good God! I’m so sorry, Kate. That must have been terribly embarrassing for you.”

  She couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, I suppose it was, but I survived it.” She tilted her head as she regarded him. He still hadn’t taken a seat and was instead standing a few paces away, watching her with great intensity. “Aren’t you curious to hear her opinion?”

  He grunted. “I’ve little desire to know what she had to say on the matter. In fact, I’m surprised I’m in this room alone with you while she . . .” He frowned, and Katherine waited patiently for him to put it all together. “Are you telling me she approves?”

  “She says she cannot because of propriety, and then she reminded me that she didn’t insist I switch rooms. She knows we share a door and that we may visit each other whenever we choose, yet she has done nothing to change that. I think we can safely assume that she has turned a blind eye.”

  “Well, I daresay I ought to advise her on what’s required of a chaperone, but that would not be to my advantage,” Lucien murmured as he held his hand out toward her.

  She accepted it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Nor would it be to mine,” she whispered. And then she kissed him.

  Chapter 17

  “I have to meet Starkly in an hour,” Lucien told Katherine at breakfast the following morning after finishing his paper and setting it aside. It was just the two of them, since his grandmother had recently left to meet with one of her friends. “We’ll be heading over to the rendezvous spot together.”

  “I’m still not comfortable with this plan of yours,” Katherine said. “I wish you didn’t have to go.” Although her apprehension toward Starkly had significantly lessened after Lucien had told her that the earl had once stood up for her against her husband, she was still concerned for Lucien’s safety.

  As if reading her thoughts, Lucien said, “I have to put an end to this so we can move on, get married and be happy. If I don’t confront Donovan, your life remains in danger.”

  Katherine nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words. How easy it had been to forget the severity of the situation when she’d lain in his arms last night. “Very well, then,” she agreed.

  Rising from the table, Lucien crossed to where she sat, took her hand in his and kissed it, his eyes locking with hers as he did so. “You must also be careful, Kate. I know this is tedious for you, but please stay upstairs in your room until I return, and keep away from the windows. If anything were to happen to you, I . . .”

  His words trailed off, but not before she heard the desperation in his voice. She nodded, hoping to calm his fears. “I promise,” she said.

  Half an hour later, Katherine was attempting to immerse herself in a book she’d found in the library when Parker knocked on her bedroom door, ashen-faced. “Forgive me for intruding, my lady, but a footman has just arrived from the Gray residency, and his lordship left in such a hurry that he neglected to tell me where he was going. Did he mention his destination to you?”

  “Good heavens,” Katherine said, coming toward the distressed servant, alarmed by his lack of composure. “Whatever is the matter?”

  “Lady Gray is apparently having her baby.”

  “But it’s too early,” Katherine said. “She’s not due for another month.”

  “There has also been a complication. I’m not sure what the specifics are, but my understanding is that it’s—­”

  Katherine didn’t wait for the man to finish. Dashing past him, she swept out onto the landing and began hurrying down the stairs, tears burning in her eyes as she went.

  “Where are you going?” Parker asked with obvious concern.

  “To tell the footman where to find Lord Roxberry of course, and then to Lady Gray.”

  “But you cannot,” Parker announced with a bit more authority. “It’s too dangerous for you to—­”

  “If you imagine that you can tell me Lady Gray is suffering through a difficult birth and that I will simply sit here and do nothing, then you are sorely mistaken,” she said, spinning about and facing the butler with great annoyance.

  “His lordship insists that you remain here, my lady. Besides, I’m sure Lord Gray has the best physician and midwife available to assist.”

  “That may very well be,” Katherine replied, “but ultimately, Lord Roxberry is not my keeper, and in the event that the footman fails to find him and the worst should happen, I believe he’d like to know that I was able to offer his sister some measure of comfort.” Not waiting for a reply, she continued on through to where the footman was waiting. “His lordship is visiting Lord Starkly at his residency on Hanover Square, but you’d best make haste, for there’s no telling how long he’ll be there.” Heaven help her, she’d no idea where the footman might find him if he was no longer at Starkly House, since Lucien had failed to give her the location of his meeting.

  Thanking her, the footman quickly mounted his horse and took off down the street. Grabbing her pelisse from a hook on the wall and flinging it over her shoulders, Katherine addressed Parker next. “Please send someone to fetch Lady Roxberry.”

  “Yes, of course,” Parker said, following her out into the street. “I don’t like you going off on your own, Lady Crossby. If you’ll only wait five minutes, I can have one of his lordship’s carriages brought round with a maid to escort you.”

  “There isn’t time,” Katherine said. “I’m taking a hackney.” And before the butler could protest any further, she’d hailed a coach and climbed in, not noticing the other occupants in her haste to get on her way.

  A click sounded—­the cocking of a pistol—­and Katherine’s eyes flew instantly to the smartly dressed woman across from her. “Hello, Lady Crossby,” Lady Trapleigh said with a smile, “it appears we meet again.”

  “Are you ready to leave?” Lucien asked when he was shown into Starkly’s study by the earl’s butler.

  Rising from his seat, Starkly reached across his desk to shake Lucien’s hand. “I
n a moment,” he said. “But before we do, there’s something I must tell you.” He indicated one of the chairs opposite his own.

  Unsure of what to expect, Lucien swept his coattails aside and claimed the proffered seat.

  Starkly sat as well. As soon as the butler was gone and the door closed, he gave Lucien a serious look. “I didn’t want to bring this up until I’d looked into the matter and was absolutely sure,” he said, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his desk. “I don’t believe Lady Trapleigh’s son is in any danger.”

  Lucien stiffened. “How can you be certain?”

  “Because I know where he his.” The earl paused momentarily, as if attempting to decide whether or not to continue. Gazing back at Lucien, he eventually said, “Years ago, I created a sanctuary for women who found themselves in a less than favorable situation.”

  Lucien stared at Starkly in disbelief. “You offered desperate women a place to go for their confinement?”

  “They are welcome to stay there until they’re ready to return to the life from which they came. The ­people in my employ help them with that, either by finding them a suitable protector or by ensuring that they can support themselves and their child by some other means.”

  “But your reputation is in complete conflict with a man who’d be so kind and generous,” Lucien blurted. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, though it did align with Starkly’s attempt to help Katherine when he’d witnessed Crossby’s abuse.

  Starkly winced. “Things aren’t always as they seem. As you surely must know, there are many upstanding gentlemen who’d like to avoid word getting out about them fathering children on the side. In such instances, I will often take on the responsibility for the sake of the woman in question.”

  “But why?”

  “Let’s just say that I harbor a great deal of resentment toward my father and that I would like to make amends on his behalf.”

  “Am I to understand that Lady Trapleigh was one of the women you helped and that her son is in your care?” Lucien asked carefully.

  Starkly nodded. “He is at Guardly, roughly a half hour’s ride west of Hereford. After speaking with you the other day, I sent one of my men out to ensure that he was still there and to heighten the security. However, I don’t think anyone is planning to harm the child.”

  Lucien pondered that. “As his mother, Lady Trap­leigh would have gone to him first to ensure that he was all right, suggesting that she had no reason to doubt that he wasn’t. The threat against her son was a ruse.” He felt his heartbeat pick up. “She was merely buying time with the hope of eventually going through with the murder.”

  “It appears that way. Yes.”

  Lucien stared back at Starkly. “But Donovan . . . somehow he must be involved. Unless of course . . .” Lucien contemplated everything that pointed to Donovan. All they had was Lady Trapleigh’s word and a ­couple of fires to support her claim. “What if Lady Trapleigh arranged for Lady Crossby’s investments to be targeted, knowing it would implicate Donovan and remove our suspicions from her in case she got caught?”

  “They may have been working together,” Starkly pointed out.

  “Possibly, though I’m beginning to suspect that the widow has been leading us on a merry chase.” At least he hadn’t received word from Cresthaven yet, which meant that Lady Trapleigh was still under restraint there.

  “We will keep our appointment with Donovan in the event that he is somehow involved. After that, I plan on returning to Cresthaven, and I’ll be stopping by the local constable on the way,” Lucien said. Clasping his hands together, he leaned forward until his arms rested on his thighs. He looked at Starkly. “I was happy to prevent gossip from spreading when I thought Lady Trapleigh was being blackmailed, but since that no longer seems plausible, I’ll have to do what I should have done from the start and have her properly apprehended.”

  Starkly nodded as he rose to his feet. “We ought to leave now if you wish to keep your appointment with Donovan.”

  Agreeing, Lucien got up and strode from the room. For now, Lady Trapleigh would have to wait.

  Seated at a worm-eaten table at The Fox and Hound tavern, Lucien was stunned when a smartly dressed gentleman approached, offering a small nod by way of greeting. For some peculiar reason, Lucien had been expecting a scruffy ruffian.

  “Roxberry?” the man inquired.

  “Indeed,” Lucien replied, his eyes seeking Starkly, who was lounging lazily at the bar. “And you must be Donovan.”

  Donovan dipped his head in acquiescence before seating himself opposite Lucien, then he smiled affably. “Let us proceed with business, shall we?”

  Lucien leaned forward. “First, I should like to discuss your attempt to harm Lady Crossby.”

  Donovan’s eyes narrowed. “What is this?”

  “Nothing whatsoever if you can convince me that there is no connection between yourself and the recent attempts on Lady Crossby’s life.” Shifting, Donovan moved to get up, but he froze in response to a soft click. The corner of Lucien’s mouth drew upward. “I have a pistol trained on you beneath the table, so I suggest you sit back down and tell me everything you know.”

  “Don’t think I came alone, Roxberry,” Donovan snarled. “My men will kill you should anything happen to me.”

  “And I will kill you if they show any sign of trying.”

  There was a long pause before Donovan, crossing his arms with obvious disapproval, said, “The name of the lady you mentioned is unfamiliar to me.”

  “Yet word has it that she is a threat to your investments.”

  “My investments?” Donovan’s eyes turned cold. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table. “Now you listen to me, Roxberry. I am not the sort of man who wastes time on long-term ventures. I like fast returns, which is why I’ve chosen a more unconventional approach to earning a living. Your source is either mistaken or lying to you. Either way, you’ve wasted my time. Now, if you will excuse me, I have an important race to attend.”

  “Why should I believe you?” Lucien asked. “For all I know, you may be lying.”

  “Because I’m not a murderer, you bloody bastard! By God, I’ve a good mind to call you out for issuing such an insult, but I’d rather avoid the attention.”

  “What about Mr. Pitkin?” Lucien asked.

  Donovan muttered an oath. “I hope you’re not insinuating that I’m to blame for that poor devil’s taking his own life. Hell, it isn’t my fault that some men are fools with their blunt and willing to risk more than they’re able to lose. Either way, you and I both know it’s only a matter of time before men like him meet a sorry end. But just to be clear, I’ve never killed anyone.” Lucien nodded, and Donovan rose to his feet. “In the future,” he said, “have a care with where you lay the blame.” Turning away, he strode to the door, passing a flushed-looking man on his way out. Starkly went toward the newly arrived man, exchanged a few words and hurried him toward Lucien’s table. Lucien frowned.

  “Apparently Lady Gray has taken ill,” Starkly said, his features grave with concern. “Her footman here was sent to fetch you . . . something about an ailment pertaining to her delicate condition. From what I—­”

  “Good God,” Lucien exclaimed. He was already on his feet, fear prickling the back of his neck as he thought of his sister. “Thank you for accompanying me, Starkly, but I must be off.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Starkly agreed. “Take my carriage—­I’ll grab a hackney.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. Is there anything else you wish me to do?”

  Lucien halted on his way to the door. “I was hoping to return home so I could check on my guest,” he said, “but perhaps you can do so for me as I’m sure the Grays will need their footman returned to them.”

  Starkly nodded.

  “And if you don’t mind, please inform
my butler of my whereabouts.”

  “I’ll see to it at once,” Starkly promised.

  Parting ways, Lucien hurried over to Starkly’s awaiting carriage and flung himself inside, ordering the driver to make haste.

  “Are you mad?” Katherine asked as she stared across at Lady Trapleigh. She hadn’t changed her clothes since Katherine had last seen her, and she was not alone—­a gruff-looking man sat beside her.

  “On the contrary, I’m of perfectly sound mind, Lady Crossby. Unfortunately for you, however, your late husband didn’t hold you in very high regard.”

  “I don’t understand what my marriage has to do with this,” Katherine said, looking to the man sitting next to Lady Trapleigh. “How did you even manage to escape? You were locked in the butler’s pantry!”

  Lady Trapleigh chuckled. “Remarkable how useful a few hairpins can be, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Katherine sank back against the squabs of the carriage. How foolish they’d been to untie her, knowing what she’d done. And now Katherine was sitting at the wrong end of Lady Trapleigh’s cocked pistol. Sucking in a breath, she silently prayed that they wouldn’t hit a bump in the road. “You mentioned Crossby before. Why does my relationship with him signify?”

  “My dear, I do believe I ought to allow you the pleasure of figuring that out on your own,” Lady Trap­leigh purred.

  Katherine took a sharp breath. She’d been on her way to the Gray residency to offer her assistance. “My lady, whatever your reason for attempting to kill me, Roxberry’s sister needs me. I must get to her as quickly as possible.”

  “Ah yes, the increasing countess. Tell me, is her life at risk?”

  Katherine hesitated, not liking the tone of Lady Trapleigh’s voice in the least. “I’m not sure,” she said.

  “Hmm . . . well, one can always hope, I suppose.”

  The statement was astounding in its ruthlessness. “How can you say such a thing?”

  A measure of sadness lurched within the confines of Lady Trapleigh’s eyes. “Don’t you find that ­people will often say and do the most unexpected things for those they love?”