Scandal of The Season. Christie Kelley
I can turn to for this. It’s quite a simple case and you do not even have to leave the country.”
“No.”
“Please, hear me out before you say no again.” Ainsworth reached for the bottle of whisky and poured two glasses.
“Drinking on the job?”
“If that is what I must do to get you to agree, the prince won’t mind.”
Anthony wondered how much information the prince even had of these jobs.
“All I need you to do is collect a missive. Marcus Hardy will be at Lord Farleigh’s house party starting on the twelfth of December. My source said Hardy will be given information regarding a plot to kill the prince regent. All you have to do is collect the note and bring it to me as quickly as possible.”
“Farleigh?”
Ainsworth nodded and then sipped his drink.
Anthony wondered exactly how Ainsworth would get him invited to that party. Farleigh’s jealousy of his wife was renowned, especially with Anthony.
He sipped his whisky and tilted his head back. This was the last thing he wanted to do. Until the note came requesting his presence here, he had planned to watch the sneaky little Miss Seaton. But the royal family was in an uproar since Princess Charlotte’s untimely death only weeks ago. With the question of succession still in doubt, if anyone managed to kill the prince regent it would produce turmoil.
“And?” Anthony prodded.
“That is it. The information will be in a missive that someone will give to Hardy.”
“So all I have to do is steal it away from him. Why not get Roberts for the job?”
Ainsworth glanced down at the papers on the table. “Roberts was killed trying to get this information three days ago. Besides, I need your ears there listening in case anything is mentioned. And I need someone who can steal into a room to find this note if needed.”
Anthony muttered a curse. “All right. I will do this as long as you realize that this is my last case. Forever.”
Ainsworth stood and held out his hand. “I do understand. Thank you.”
As Ainsworth left, Anthony sat back in his chair in thought. Somehow, he would need to allay Farleigh’s jealousy. A smile lifted his lips upward. All he needed was a mistress to bring with him. No one of any social importance attended Farleigh’s parties because of Lady Farleigh. Therefore, no one would mind him bringing a woman with him. But who?
He had plenty of women he could ask, but he knew they would all want a commitment to become his real mistress, or worse, his wife. He had no real interest in any of them other than an occasional night of pleasure. There had to be someone.
He downed his whisky and checked the time. Damn. It was already almost two in the afternoon. He’d promised the boy watching Miss Seaton that he would not be gone long.
After nodding to a few acquaintances, he walked out of the men’s club and found his carriage. He rode to Sophie’s house to see if Miss Seaton was still speaking with his half sister. Anthony found the boy standing by a lamppost watching Sophie’s home.
“Anyone left the house, lad?” he asked, as he approached the boy.
“She’s still in there.”
Anthony pulled a few coins from his pocket and handed them to him. “Thank you, but I shall take over now.”
“Yes, sir,” the boy said and then ran down the street with a smile.
Anthony waited in his carriage for almost an hour before she finally departed. Foolish woman had no maid trailing behind. He stepped out of the carriage just as she was walking toward it.
She stopped and gaped at him with wide eyes. As she started to turn the opposite direction, he clasped her elbow and steered her toward the waiting carriage.
“Lord Somerton!” she gasped.
“Miss Seaton, it is a fine afternoon, is it not?”
“You must let go of me,” she whispered as if trying not to make a scene.
“Get in the carriage, Miss Seaton. We have much to discuss.”
She attempted to twist out of his grip once more. Realizing her defeat, she entered the carriage. She sat back against the velvet squabs and crossed her arms over her chest.
Anthony climbed inside and sat across from the defiant lady. Her quiet beauty surprised him. She had put her hair up into a loose chignon and several blond tendrils fell across her pale cheeks. Seeing her again, he noticed just how petite she was and far too thin.
And this time, he had no doubt she was the woman he’d been searching for these past ten years.
“You are very good,” he said quietly.
Her blue eyes widened slightly. “At what, my lord?”
“At your chosen profession.”
“I take care of eight children. Nothing more,” she said in a tight voice.
“Indeed.”
She glanced out the window. “Where are you taking me and why?”
“We shall be there soon.” He wondered at her calm demeanor. Most women forced into a carriage would be close to hysterics by now. Something told him instead of panic, she was plotting her escape.
Victoria sat across from the demon lord trying to determine the best course of action. Even if she managed to escape his clutches, he knew where she lived. He knew who her friends were. He would find her.
It appeared there was nothing more to do but wait and discover his intentions. As she watched the shadows fall over his handsome face, she didn’t believe his intentions were respectable.
Seeing him in the light of day, she wondered how she could have imagined it wasn’t him. The man from her past. Somerton had changed the direction of her life whether he realized it or not. And she preferred he never know how much what happened that night affected her life.
The carriage finally slowed to a stop. Somerton quickly scrambled to get down before she could make a move. Her lips turned upward. She could never outrun the man.
“I am not sure what you are smiling about, but if I were you, I would be worried,” he warned.
“About what?” she answered in defiance.
“About what I might have planned for you.”
She climbed down and attempted to pass him only to find her elbow back in his strong grip. “I doubt it could be any worse than what you have already done to me.”
His jaw tightened until a little tic started beating near his chin. “Let’s go.”
Victoria smiled fully. She had found her weapon against him. He led her up the steps of a small townhome only a few blocks from her own house. Well, her home in principle. She certainly could never afford such a place.
The door opened and a gape-mouthed butler stood silent as his employer forced a woman into the house.
“She is not to leave without my permission, Reese.”
“Y—yes, sir.”
He guided her up the stairs to the second floor and then flung open a door. After pushing her into the room, he blocked the door with his large body. A sliver of fear swept down her back. His face had darkened, and his eyes turned from a lovely shade of hazel to a dark green.
“What do you plan to do now?” she asked insolently. There was nothing he could do to her that he hadn’t done in the past.
“Get to the truth.”
“Truth about what?”
“Everything,” he answered ominously.