The house proved to be as pink on the inside as it was on the exterior. A nondescript butler ushered Liam through a salmon-pink hallway and into a pale rose salon. Perhaps a dozen men mingled in the cozy room, along with a total of three women. Most of the men were familiar to Liam, and none of the women. A plump, middle-aged matron in a confection of pink and white lace sat next to Haversham, who presided over the room. With fading blond hair and pale blue eyes, she looked more like someone’s dotty maiden aunt than Liam’s idea of a mistress, but she matched the décor too well to be anyone but the hostess.
Eustace came over to welcome Liam in and led him to his hosts. “Haversham, you know McCullough here, don’t you? His pater is Lord Bell, but our man here works for Scotland Yard.”
“We’ve met.” Albert Haversham, a balding fellow whose clothes were too small for his portly form, held out a hand for Liam to shake. “Welcome to our so-called society, McCullough. May I introduce your hostess, Mrs. Renquist? Lily, dear, this is Inspector McCullough.”
Liam greeted her with all the decorum he’d use for one of the haute ton and she smiled like a debutante, fluttering her lashes. “Welcome, Inspector. I do hope you enjoy our little gathering.”
“I’ve looked forward to it all day.” Liam looked around the room taking note of the faces. None of the men had been particularly high on his list of possible fomenters of rebellion. “Just what does one do in a younger son’s club?”
“We’re not all seconds or thirds,” Haversham said. “Woodford over there is a bastard, so even though he’s Viscount Markham’s oldest, he can’t inherit. Kersleigh, who isn’t here tonight, is the grandson of a duke, but through his mother, so the poor blighter is cut off without a groat.”
“Ah, now that makes sense.” Liam nodded. “So we just get together to commiserate, is that it? Spend some time among our peers? Maybe play some cards?”
Eustace chuckled. “Well, we’re not planning to secretly do away with each other’s relations you know. Don’t think I’d be any good at that sort of thing, do you?”
Liam laughed along with the others. “No, I suppose not.” Oddly, that was one scheme he hadn’t considered for this group, though he probably should have.
“Mostly this is just a social gathering, but we are trying to get the inheritance laws changed,” said another man, one Liam recognized as a distant relation to the royal family. “Some of us have a bit of influence, and we get together to discuss how to use it. Watson over there is a barrister, lets us know what the law is up to. Haversham here is trying to get a seat in Commons. We’re all working on raising funds for his campaign.”
“Splendid idea.” Liam accepted a glass of wine from a passing waiter. Where was the inflammatory rhetoric? The diabolical plotting? This was little more than a party of chattering hens.
“We’re even trying to get them to do something about women’s suffrage,” said one of the mistresses with a pout. She sniffed at her protector. “But so far they just ignore us.”
“Don’t worry, darling, you’ll be well taken care of,” said the young officer on her left.
Liam tried not to roll his eyes as he let himself be drawn into a discussion of electoral law, and whether or not the idea of pocket boroughs ought to be eliminated.
A little while later, another newcomer arrived. The man, about Liam’s age of thirty, wore a clerical collar and a harried expression. The butler handed him off to Haversham, who spoke with him a bit before introducing him to the group as Reverend Samuels.
“How did you find us?” Haversham asked.
“Answered one of the pamphlets,” the vicar said. “Asked at the pub, and got an invitation from someone named Kersleigh.”
“And what brings you to us?” Mrs. Renquist studied him over her pink and ivory fan. “Are you the younger son of a lord?”
Samuels nodded. “My older brother’s the baron now, but even he won’t let me run my own life. I can’t stand the church, but he’s threatened to cut me off without a farthing if I don’t stay on as vicar. I’d be up for a spot of letting the lords know that their spares aren’t going to take it anymore. If we’re planning a riot, count me in.”
“A riot?” Haversham laughed. “Oh, gracious. I told Kersleigh those pamphlets of his were misleading. Sorry, Samuels. You’re welcome to join us, but our idea of rebellion is to send a petition to Parliament.”
That’s when Liam knew for certain the night would be pointless.
Kersleigh didn’t make an appearance, but his name was mentioned often with a good bit of respect. No one seemed to know much about his origins, though, or if he had property near town. Nor could anyone name just which duke he was supposedly descended from.
Four hours later, Liam left, after promising to return another time, with a donation for Haversham’s campaign. The men clapped him on the back and said they’d see him around. The mistresses waved cheerful good-byes.
Liam climbed into his hired hack and shook his head at Jamie and Connor. “Well, that was a complete and utter waste of time. They’re about as dangerous as a gaggle of schoolgirls.”
Jamie sighed. “Couldn’t they at least have been pretty schoolgirls? The one I saw through the window looked like somebody’s mother.”
Connor raised an eyebrow. “If you want to ogle schoolgirls, maybe you ought to, you know, go back to school yourself.”
Liam sighed. He had a longer list of names to investigate, but no real hope that any of them were involved in any trouble. “I’m meeting with the Life Guards and the Blues and Royals tomorrow about security for the royal enclosure at Ascot. It honestly doesn’t seem to me that there’s a serious threat. Does anyone disagree?”
Connor shook his head. “No, I think it’s mostly smoke and mirrors.”
Jamie sighed. “When I think about the races, I see trouble. But I can’t say what kind of trouble. I wish my gift was more reliable, but the best I can usually do on demand is get some sense of danger or safety.”
“And have you got anything for us to go on?” Liam asked.
He looked up, his eyes wide. “Nothing specific. Mostly I just see blood.”
* * *
Still dressed in the plain skirt and shirtwaist she’d worn earlier, Wink paced the floor of her father’s study. She knew Liam, Tom, Jamie and Connor weren’t just playing cards. They were off investigating something, but Tom had made her promise to stay home and not interfere. She wouldn’t have normally listened to him, but he’d called in a favor she owed him from the past Christmas, and she’d been forced to give her word. Damn it, she hated when they acted like cavemen, trying to keep the helpless females safe in cotton wool at home. Come to think of it, it wasn’t females in general, just her. Nell and Dorothy had gone off to a harp recital for one of Nell’s schoolmates.
At half past one in the morning, Tom and Jamie finally arrived home, in obnoxiously good spirits.
“Where the hell have you been?” Wink demanded as she dragged them into the study. “What did you find out?”
Between the two of them, they gave a scant reporting of Liam’s attendance at the Prodigal’s Club.
“And you didn’t think I might have been helpful if there had been trouble?” She resisted the urge to smash something over their smug, masculine faces. “What if they had been the rebels, and realized Liam was investigating them? They could have killed him.”
“Look, I know you can hold your own in a fight,” Tom said. “But Liam’s a little more traditional than we are. In fact, just today he tried to get me to send you and Nell back to Northumberland until this is over.”
Every hair on the back of her neck stood up as rage clawed at her chest. She narrowed her eyes and poked Tom in the sternum with the tip of one finger. “He did what?” Her voice was so quiet she wasn’t sure he heard her until he swallowed hard.
“He told me you and Nell would be safer up at the Hall.” Tom held out a hand. “Give me a little credit though. I told him he was barking mad if he thought you’d leave
.”
“Thank you.” She kept her voice and expression perfectly calm. “Well, then, gentlemen, it’s late. Are you two off to bed now?”
Jamie shook his head. “We’re going to Wapping. Want to come?”
Well, at least her younger brother didn’t think she was helpless. Wink gave him a slight smile. “No, but thank you. You two go on ahead.”
They both studied her suspiciously, but she waved them away. “Go on. In fact, take George with you.” That should convince them she didn’t plan to leave the house.
“If you’re sure.” Jamie glanced suspiciously back over his shoulder. “Come, George.”
The mechanical dog looked to Wink for confirmation.
Wink patted his head. “George, guard Jamie.”
With a creaking of metal and springs, George stood and followed Jamie to the front door.
Wink feigned a yawn. “I’m off to sleep. Have a good night, boys. Try not to get yourselves killed.” She trailed her way up the stairs as they let themselves out of the house.
As soon as they were gone, she dashed down the servants’ stairs and out the kitchen door.
Chapter Nine
On arriving home, Liam hung up his coat and loosened his cravat. His servants were long since asleep, so he’d let himself in and locked the front door behind him. He was tired and frustrated, but just to be safe, he wanted to make a list of everyone he’d met at Mrs. Renquist’s, on the off chance that one of them was involved in something even dirtier than politics. He’d always been blessed with a keen memory for names and faces, so it wasn’t hard to jot down all the members of the Prodigal’s Club, and even the mistresses present. Hiding a property in one of their names would be all too easy. Tom would have a lot more names to search for tomorrow.
After he listed the names, he made a few notes beside them, including profession, attitude and which peer each member claimed descent from. There were more than a few blank spots, as Liam hadn’t managed to converse with each one intimately, but he’d accumulated a fair bit of intelligence, or so he tried to convince himself, loath to believe the night had been utterly wasted. He did think Haversham might make a decent MP, so perhaps not so wasted after all.
A soft sound caught his ear and he looked up to see the handle to his study turn slowly.
Liam pulled a small revolver out from his top desk drawer and leveled it at the doorway. “Come in, why don’t you?”
“Thank you, I’d planned on it.” Wink’s voice nearly startled him into dropping the gun, but he kept it ready, in case she wasn’t alone. If someone had to pick a hostage to use against Liam, she’d be the ideal one. The door swung open and she stepped into the room, a paisley woolen shawl wrapped around her shoulders and her long hair in a braid down her back.
Liam drew in a breath. She was alone and unharmed.
Wink’s gaze rested on the weapon in his hand and she chuckled. “Really? You were going to shoot me? I have one of those too, you know. And mine’s bigger.” She pulled a revolver out from under the shawl, handle first, and laid it down on his desk. Then she unbuckled the rapier from around her waist and set that down too.
Liam scowled and returned his own pistol to its drawer. “What the hell are you doing here at two in the morning? Where are your brothers? Hell, where’s George?”
“Thank you, I think I shall have a seat.” She dropped into a chair next to his desk. “Tom and Jamie went to Wapping. I sent George with them.”
“Did one of your servants drive you here? Tell me you didn’t walk all alone. And how did you get in? I know I locked the door behind me.”
Wink waved a hand. “Please. That lock wouldn’t keep out a determined toddler. As to walking alone, I’ll have you know I have two perfectly functional feet. I’m not stupid. I did come armed, as you may have noticed. And I may not have George, but I do have Pippin. He’s programmed to detect movement and has laudanum in his teeth, which are also silver plated. No one came anywhere near us on the way here. He’d have howled up a storm if they had.” She swept her skirts aside to reveal yet another of her masterpiece creatures that Liam recognized. This one was a small steel spaniel, and had been Piers’s boon companion when the boy wasn’t at school.
Again, Liam should have known all of Wink’s so-called pets were weapons in disguise. Still, the idea of her walking out at night made his blood curdle. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
“Having a talk with you, Inspector. One that no one else in my family, the Order or the police needs to overhear.” She drummed her fingertips on the desk. “I understand your visit to the Prodigal’s Club was remarkably unexciting.”
He shrugged. “We’ll see. On the surface, at least, they seem entirely harmless. I still have doubts about Kersleigh, though.”
“He wasn’t there?”
Liam shook his head. “But that isn’t what you came here to ask. Out with it, imp. You were the one who said just yesterday that we needed to avoid being alone together at all costs.” He used the childish nickname on purpose, to remind himself of her innocence, though he hadn’t called her by it in years.
She pursed her lips. “I don’t believe I put it like that, but you’re right. I did say something of the sort. Then I spent some time thinking today, and realized it was absurd. You’re more than likely operating on incomplete information. Once we have our little talk, I think things may change between us.”
“Oh?” He raised one eyebrow. “I can’t imagine what you would say that could change my position on the subject of marriage.” He lifted the glass on his desk and sipped at his whiskey, deliberately not offering her anything. He didn’t want her to stay.
“I wasn’t going to try.” The drumming intensified and then stopped. “Liam, are you by any chance under the impression that I’m a virgin?”
He choked, spraying Irish whiskey out over his notes. “What?”
She leaned over and patted his back, none too gently. “I thought as much. You’re wrong you know. Do you really believe I lived in Wapping to the age of fifteen and kept my maidenhead?”
His eyes burned and fury boiled up from his gut. “Who?” He needed a name, so he could go kill the man. If the bastard was already dead, Liam would dig his body up and shoot it anyway, then maybe kick it to bits.
Wink shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, we can do whatever we please and you don’t need to marry me. I’m thoroughly ruined already.” She didn’t sound hurt or devastated as she said it. She even smiled, her expression downright…hopeful.
Liam growled. Articulating words was beyond him at the moment. She was trying to kill him, to punish him for almost ravaging her in the garden last night. She was leading him on so she could bash him over the head. That was the only thought that made any sense at all. His fingers clenched so hard on the edge of his desk that the hardened walnut creaked.
“You see, I thought about what you said last night. You don’t want to ever marry, and based on what you said about your family, I suppose I can see why.” She stood and paced the floor in front of the desk. “The thing is, while I do want companionship and, yes, a…physical relationship, I’ve decided I’m not all that keen on marriage either. I like my independence and working for the Order. I don’t want some man to have the right to tell me what to do, to whom I can speak, where I have to live, even what I should wear. Mostly, I don’t want children yet. Maybe someday, but not now. I want to live my own life, not be tied to the nursery and drawing room like some mindless puppet.”
“Say I believed you.” Liam tried to keep the rasp of arousal out of his voice. His body knew what she was proposing, and damn if his cock wasn’t trying to stand up and dance at the notion. “Not that I do, but say I did. Your father is still my friend, and you still have a position to uphold in society. I won’t be party to you making yourself an outcast.”
Wink shrugged. “Of course we’d have to be discreet. I’m thinking, though, that it’s time I got a house of my own. I don’t want to live with m
y family forever and I have the means to be independent. Once I’m established as a spinster, there will be certain liberties allowed by society, as long as we don’t flaunt our relationship—if it even lasts that long.”
“And your parents?” How the devil was he going to talk her out of this? How the hell was he going to talk himself out of this? Thinking of Merrick coming after him with a sword was the best he could do. And still—she’d be worth it.
“They’ll object, but in the end, they’ll go along with whatever I decide.” She continued pacing. “Look at Aunt Dorothy. She and Miss Julian have been an item for decades and no one says a word.”
“Partly because their relationship is not just socially ruinous, but also flatly illegal.” Liam had no problem with Dorothy’s lifestyle, but it wasn’t without risks. “While it may be stupid for the law to prohibit two women from being in love, saying anything in public could result in their arrests. No one wants that, so everyone keeps mum.”
“Exactly.” Wink laid her hands on the desk and leaned over it, coming nose-to-nose with Liam. “There are hundreds of quietly illicit relationships in society. Ours would simply be one more.”
“You can’t believe that.” He was trying so hard to hold on to his honor. Couldn’t she leave him that much? “Let me take you home, please. We can forget this ever happened.”
“Can we?” She kissed his nose. “The truth is, there’s chemistry between us and it’s powerful. While it might be normal for you, it isn’t for me. Fighting it has become too difficult. I think we’d both be better off if we gave in and got rid of this tension that keeps both of us from sleeping well or concentrating on our work.” She straightened up and brought both hands up to the pearl buttons at her throat. “I want you, Liam. So much I can barely think straight. Can you look me in the eye and say you don’t feel the same?” She opened the first button, showing him just a glimpse of her creamy throat.
Liam groaned. His fangs lengthened, emerging from his gums.
“You can’t, can you?” Another button slid from its hole, revealing another half inch of silky skin.
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