Scandalous Deception. Rosemary Rogers
to remind me that you have always been a cad and a scoundrel.”
He arched a raven brow. “Well, then?”
“I do not gain control of my inheritance until my birthday in the spring, but I do have several jewels…”
His husky laugh filled the shadowed room. “I have no need for your money or jewels.”
She frowned in confusion, revealing just how innocent she truly was. “Then what sort of reward do you demand?”
Edmond deliberately allowed his heated gaze to run over her ivory features before lowering to rest on the slight swell of her breasts.
“Obviously, you have nothing to barter but your feminine charms.”
She attempted an expression of outrage, but Edmond did not miss the darkening of her magnificent eyes. She would never admit it, but she was not entirely averse to the thought of having those charms tasted. Perhaps even devoured.
“You are no better than Thomas,” she accused in a shaky voice.
Edmond smiled with cold intent, abruptly stepping back and tugging her from the door. He had wasted enough time. He was here to discover a murderer, not to seduce his brother’s ward. Stefan was far better suited to deal with such a mess.
He still intended to kill Thomas Wade. That was a given. But tonight, his priority was Howard Summerville.
“Then I suggest that you remain with your stepfather, where you belong, or find some other accommodations,” he informed her, releasing his hold so he could pull open the door.
“Damn you,” she hissed.
Edmond paused to cast a mocking glance over his shoulder. “You are too late, ma souris. I was damned years ago.”
IT WAS JUST PAST THREE in the morning when Brianna and her maid slipped through the back gate of the Huntley town house and made their way to the kitchen door.
Although only a few blocks away from her stepfather’s home, the two establishments could not be compared.
The entire area had once belonged to Westminster Abbey and had been taken into possession by Henry VIII. Later it was developed by the Curzon family, who named the neighborhood Mayfair after the annual fair that had once been held in the open fields.
Unlike many of the grand homes, Huntley House had been built by James Stuart, who preferred a plain exterior of pale stone and wrought-iron fencing to the more elaborate style of Robert Adam. The elegant interior, however, was a lavish display of wealth.
As a child, Brianna could recall entering the home and marveling at the split staircase that led to a formal landing that boasted heavy marble pillars and Grecian statues. A perfect setting for the Duke and Duchess to greet their guests in a truly regal fashion.
The jewel of the house, of course, was the neo-classical drawing room with its series of tall windows that extended the length of the house and overlooked Hyde Park. It was a room that had been near overwhelming for young Brianna, who had been terrified of destroying some priceless work of art.
And now here she was, about to enter the house as a thief.
More unnerved by the realization than she cared to admit, Brianna set down the heavy bags she had carried from her home, and watched as her maid bent over the door knob to study the lock in the faint moonlight.
The two women were currently hidden in the shadowed alcove of the servants’ entrance, having slipped through the mews to the back of the grand town house. Behind them, the silence of the sunken rose garden offered the sense of being isolated from the hustle and bustle of London, but Brianna was no fool. Huntley House employed over a dozen servants, any one of which could make an untimely arrival.
“Can you do it, Janet?” she whispered.
Janet straightened, her round face somber. “Aye, it be a simple enough lock.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“Are ye certain this is a wise notion, Miss Quinn?” the maid demanded, her words abrupt. “The way ye speak of the gent makes me fear that ye are leaping from the frying pan right into the fire.”
Brianna suppressed her instinctive shudder.
When Edmond had abandoned her in that bedchamber at the masked ball, she had been momentarily paralyzed with fear, knowing she had no one left to turn to.
It had seemed very much like she was doomed.
And then, gathering her shattered courage, Brianna had squared her shoulders and made perhaps the most dangerous decision of her life.
Edmond might not desire to help her, but it was no less than his duty. He was pretending to be Stefan, so he could bloody well take on Stefan’s responsibilities, including his obligation to save her from Thomas Wade.
Her mind settled, Brianna had silently slipped back into her house and awakened Janet, who was sleeping in a chair beside Brianna’s empty bed. The maid had not been pleased with the daring notion, but grumbling beneath her breath, she had at last assisted Brianna in shoving what clothing she could fit in her valises.
In less than an hour, Brianna and Janet had been sneaking through the dark streets, avoiding the traffic as the nobles returned home after their night of revelry. There had been a brief stop in the stables to ensure that Edmond had not yet returned before they slipped through the back gate and followed the flagstone path past elegant statues and lavish fountains to the mansion.
If Edmond would not help her willingly, then he would do so unwillingly.
“Edmond is no prize, but he is certainly preferable to Thomas Wade,” she muttered.
“But if this man has promised to contact the Duke, then…”
“I cannot take the risk of waiting,” Brianna interrupted. “If Thomas should even suspect that I am attempting to flee, he will have me hauled off to Norfolk before I could do a thing to stop him.”
Janet heaved a heavy sigh. “I suppose that is true enough.”
“I will sell my soul to the devil before I allow that to happen.”
“Mayhap that is what yer about to do,” Janet muttered, removing a thin strip of metal from her pocket before efficiently setting about tripping the lock.
The maid rarely spoke about her childhood, but Brianna knew Janet had been the child of one of London’s most notorious thieves. And that, until she had fled the underworld, she had learned many tricks of the trade. Such talents had come in handy more than once.
There was a faint click and then the tumble of the locks before the door swung open. Brianna heaved out a deep breath of relief. She knew that Edmond would be returning at any moment, and she had to be firmly settled into the house before he arrived.
Lifting her heavy baggage, Brianna brushed past her maid and entered the kitchen. If anyone was to be shot as a housebreaker, it was only fair that she take the bullet.
Thankfully, there was no sound of gunfire as she stepped over the threshold and glanced about the long room.
There was nothing more threatening than the bundles of herbs hanging from the open-beamed ceiling, a stack of gleaming copper pots and the flicker of dying embers from the massive stone fireplace.
With a gesture toward Janet, Brianna silently crossed the stone floor, keeping her gaze trained on the distant door that led to the private servants’ quarters. She skirted the long wooden tables, her stomach rumbling at the scent of freshly baked bread and raspberry pastries that had been left to cool. It was tempting to linger a moment and indulge her sweet tooth with one of the delicate tarts, but with a stern effort, she continued onward, ducking through the arched doorway that led to the back staircase.
If she did not find herself in the gutter in the morning, she could enjoy all the tarts she desired. For the moment, only sheer luck would allow them to reach the guest chambers