Dangerous Loves Romantic Suspense Collection (34 page)

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Authors: Dorothy McFalls

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BOOK: Dangerous Loves Romantic Suspense Collection
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Elsbeth squirmed with embarrassment. It didn’t matter that they were married.

Nigel must have sensed her discomfort. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You have better say what you need to say, George, before I call for a constable to haul you to Newgate.”

“I suppose you are in the right if you wish to do something so drastic. It is true, I have been running the family smuggling operation from your beach. The whole village has been doing so for generations. But I swear, I have never tried to hurt you or your lady wife.” Mr. Waver sipped his tea. “And I bloody well didn’t kill your butler or that deceiving footman of yours.” The beverage did have a civilizing effect on society. He very carefully set down the cup on a highly polished side table. “What I do know is that someone tried to kill Lord Purbeck this morning. If I hadn’t been following him and if I hadn’t had the opportunity to intervene, I’m certain your uncle would be dead right now.”

“And why were you following my uncle?” Nigel asked calmly. He still held Elsbeth’s hand, though it was very improper for him to continue such a blatant display of affection in front of guests. Perhaps it wasn’t affection he was seeking in her contact, but strength. He had sought her strength before, though the very idea still astounded her.

“I’d believed Lord Purbeck was trying to kill you.”

“Uncle Charles?”

“He is the heir apparent,” Mr. Waver pointed out.

“Uncle Charles raised me as if I was his son.”

“You aren’t his son, though. But apparently he isn’t the one we are after. His life is in as much danger as yours.”

“With Nigel and Lord Purbeck out of the way,” Elsbeth said, “Mr. Charlie Purbeck would stand to inherit the title, the fortune…and the power.” It was the power Charlie craved most. Elsbeth was certain of that.

“Charlie wouldn’t want to hurt me,” Nigel was quick to say.

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Mr. Waver said. “Lady Edgeware, you know Charlie from his acquaintance with your late husband. Tell me, what makes you believe he is capable of such treachery?”

“Lord Mercer and Mr. Purbeck were gamblers of the worst sort. They gambled with money they could ill-afford to lose.” She drew a deep breath. “I believe Mr. Purbeck has somehow gotten himself into trouble by betting a fortune on a single horserace.”

“I see,” Nigel said.

“The cove was foolish enough to put all of his money on one horse?” Mr. Waver asked.

“No.” She pulled her hand from Nigel’s grasp and clasped her hands tightly over her knees. She bent slightly forward, well aware of her unladylike posture as she explained what Mademoiselle Dukard had told her. “I have learned that he didn’t use his own money but had borrowed deeply from friends, telling them that they would all come out rich.”

“This is unbelievable.” Mr. Waver leaned back in his chair.

“So that is why he has been pressing me for the thirty thousand pounds,” Nigel said. “But he’s gotten himself deep into debt before and has never tried to kill me, or anyone else for that matter. I cannot believe he would do so now.”

“Within the last week I have interviewed several women.” She paused remembering the string of paramours she had encountered. “With their help I have compiled a list of gentlemen who gave Mr. Purbeck money for that bet.”

“With whom have you been meeting?” Nigel asked.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. He wouldn’t approve. What man would wish his wife to be consorting with women of that sort? But she needed to start being honest with him. She needed to trust him to be strong enough to hear what she had to say and to not punish her for it. “I met with Mademoiselle Dukard first.”

Mr. Waver drew back with a gasp of surprise.

“It is dangerous to go after a killer alone and even more dangerous for a gentle woman such as yourself to go to the places where women such as Mademoiselle Dukard reside.” There was a touch of anger in Nigel’s voice, but it was similar to the kind-hearted scolding he had given Lauretta at the ball. “I don’t want your life put into danger. Seeing you harmed shortens my life. You should have sent me in your place.”

The mademoiselle had only provided Elsbeth with the most rudimentary of details. It was Nigel’s own Bess who’d introduced her to the other women involved. She’d accompanied Elsbeth on the visits and they had been quite safe.

“Who I met with and how I was introduced to them is not important. What is important is that someone appears to be very interested in having you dead…someone who could make use of your money.”

Nigel sprang to his feet. “Not Charlie. He is like my brother. He would never do anything to harm me.”

Bess also didn’t believe Charlie capable of murder. But neither of them knew Charlie’s true nature. If only Nigel knew…yet Elsbeth could never tell him the full truth about that horrible night, or of how he seemed to relish watching as Lord Mercer tormented her. She could never tell him the pain, the humiliation she suffered when Charlie had joined her husband in the abuse.

“I still haven’t ruled you out, George.” Nigel shot an accusing finger in the direction of the chair where Mr. Waver was currently lounging.

“Are you back to that? I suppose I do owe you an explanation. Like I’d said, Edgeware, I have been using your shore to smuggle goods into the country.”

“Yes? And you lied to me about it. Why? Why not tell me the truth when I asked you?”

“Why?” Mr. Waver lurched forward. “Because you are so damned innocent. You don’t understand going to bed at night with a burning hunger in your belly. My family is respectable, yes. But there is no money behind that
respectable
name. My mother and father did the best they could to hold the estate together, mortgaging it several times over just so we would have a place to live, an illusion to preserve.”

“You could have told me.”

“I wasn’t looking for a handout, dammit!”

The two men stared at each other seemingly deadlocked. The calming effect of the tea seemed to be wearing thin.

“Will you turn me in?” Mr. Waver asked quietly. “If you do, all I ask is that you try not to involve the rest of my family or the villagers.”

Nigel clasped his hands behind his back and began pacing again. “Did you drug my wife?”

Mr. Waver’s jaw dropped as he stared at Nigel, dumbfounded.

“Did you drug my wife and put her out in the storm to die?”

“He saved me from the drenching cold, Nigel. He didn’t put me in it.”

“Is this true?” Nigel asked Mr. Waver.

“Yes, Edgeware. I am insulted that you have to ask.”

Nigel gave a small growl and tugged at his hair. The black strands all stood on end giving him a tousled look that Elsbeth thought adorable.

“Dammit, I no longer know who I can trust. Until this is over, the only person I will trust will be you, Elsbeth.”


Me
?”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

At three o’clock, the fashionable hour for riding, Severin turned his well cared-for but woefully old-fashioned phaeton pulled by two horses instead of the usual four onto the busy social circuit in Hyde Park. At least his two horses were prime specimens of horseflesh. Nothing at all to be ashamed of in front of the lovely Lady Lauretta.

This was the first time he’d ridden through Hyde Park for the sheer pleasure of a lady’s company. Lady Lauretta spun an open parasol in her hand, her large hazel eyes never sat still. She appeared to be searching the faces in the park, perhaps searching for someone in particular. Severin worried her heart still clung to that milksop, Sir Donald Gilforth.

“Oooo,” Lady Lauretta cried. “There’s Elsbeth. And she is with
him
. She’s smiling at
him
.”

Severin turned his head after tipping his hat in passing to an acquaintance who had smiled a bit too lewdly up at Lady Lauretta for Severin’s liking and caught sight of Edgeware riding in a sparkling curricle with the new Lady Edgeware seated beside him. Miracle of miracles, the severe lady was indeed smiling.

She looked quite beautiful.

“The Marquess appears to have a positive influence on your cousin,” Severin pointed out.

“Papa says there is naught but trickery and deception under Lord Edgeware’s roof. Poor Elsbeth.” Lady Lauretta spun her parasol even faster. “Papa says she’s been hoodwinked. She actually told Papa that only
she
could protect that bounder from the dangerous situation he’s gotten himself into.”

“You don’t say,” Severin said thoughtfully.

“She’s been investigating the matter on her own. Can you believe such nonsense? I told her just the other day that I have never known her to act in a foolish manner, but look at her. I told her this myself, she is acting the fool now. And still, she refused to come home with Olivia and me.”

“I say,” Severin chuckled at the thought of the mild Lady Lauretta trying to face down the formable Lady Edgeware. It was a wonder that Lauretta didn’t appear singed after such a harrowing experience.

“You are laughing at me!”

“No, my lady, not at you.”

“You are! Olivia laughed the same way, telling me I was a silly innocent.”

Severin tucked her hand into his large palm. “I am not laughing at you, my lady.” He brushed a quick kiss across her knuckle. “I am merely amazed at your bravery. I once stood up to Lady Edgeware years ago and was presented with the most harrowing set-down I have ever been handed in all my life.”

Lady Lauretta turned sharply and stared down her pretty little nose at him. Severin laughed again. She was so different from the jaded widows whose company offered him nothing long-lasting.

The fact that Lady Lauretta was also an heiress strangely did not matter one whit. It wasn’t her money but her mind that attracted him. She had an uncanny ability to recognize not only visible talent but also the potential talent of budding artists. Just the other day he’d taken her to both Sotheby’s Auction House and Christie’s to discuss the various artworks offered for sale. With her sharp eye and his slick business sense, they could develop quite a lucrative business.

“I simply do not trust him.” Lady Lauretta’s gaze had returned to Edgeware’s curricle. The Marquess’s pair of perfectly matched blacks pranced alongside Lord Charles Purbeck’s landau.

“Edgeware is a fine gentleman, my dear. I owe much to him.”

Lady Lauretta tipped her head back so he could clearly see her entire face below the rim of her wide bonnet. “How so?”

Now that wasn’t something a gentleman certainly shared with a lady.

A little over a year ago, Severin had slinked out the back way of a stinking gaming hell after losing a bundle of blunt he could ill afford to lose. He was following a path his father had taken, a path that led straight to ruin.

“Ho there,” Edgeware had called to him.

Severin had stumbled, having imbibed far too much while losing hand after hand in cards. “Leave off, sir. Leave a man to his honorable fate.”

Severin winced as he remembered. This was definitely not a story for genteel ears, for he had pressed a pistol to his own temple, fully intending to end his miserable life before he could drag his family even further into debt.

“You shouldn’t play with such toys,” Edgeware had said and pinched the pistol from Severin’s grasp, pocketing the weapon before Severin could slur a drunken protest. “They could inadvertently hurt a man.”

That was when Edgeware had begged Severin for his help. He had a pile of paintings he wished displayed and sold.

Severin now knew that Edgeware had no need to sell his paintings. He didn’t benefit from fame; he shied away from it, in fact. And he certainly didn’t need the money.

“Edgeware made a great sacrifice to save my life. Let’s just leave it at that,” Severin said to Lady Lauretta. He steered his phaeton off the social circuit and onto a shady tree-lined side path hoping to steal a kiss. He’d not had a moment alone with her since Edgeware’s house party and he rather enjoyed exposing Lauretta to such shocking adventures as stolen kisses and hidden embraces.

“I told you no! I will not!” A woman’s voice echoed through the leaves in the canopy above Severin and Lady Lauretta’s heads. Severin drew the phaeton to a halt.

“What do you think that was about?” Lady Lauretta whispered.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t at all a thing a respectable lady needed to be a witness to. “I have no idea.” He jumped down from the landau and then took Lady Lauretta around the waist and swung her down to the ground.

“Wait here.” He tied the reins to a tree. “But don’t stand too close to the carriage in case the horses decide to bolt.”

“No! I will not agree to help you!” The woman’s shrill voice carried through the air and assaulted their ears.

Severin sprinted toward the woman’s cries, following a narrow footpath, and then stopped mid-stride. Within a blink, he made his way back to Lady Lauretta. He took her by the shoulders, pulling her close. “I will be right back,” he whispered before he gave her a thorough kiss on the lips.

“Oh my!” Lady Lauretta cried. A full blush bloomed on her cheeks when he set her back down.

“Won’t be but a moment,” Severin called, as he ran again down the narrow trail on a quest to rescue the distressed lady hidden somewhere in the park.

He drew to a halt when he reached a small clearing. A man and woman, both dressed in the unmistakable flare demanded by the
haut ton
, stood toe-to-toe arguing. The gentleman, if one cared to call him that, was twisting the lady’s arm.

“No!” the woman cried.

Severin stepped into the clearing. “I would abide by the lady’s wishes if you know what is good for you, sir,” Severin said. He stripped off his riding gloves.

“You?” the man growled, still squeezing the poor woman’s arm. “Get out of here, Lord Ames. This is none of your affair.”

It took a moment for Severin to recognize Sir Donald Gilforth. The fop wore a high guillotine collar with an overdone strangling cravat. The combination of the two nearly swallowed the bottom half of Sir Donald’s face. His highly polished beaver hat was pulled low on his brow. Perhaps Sir Donald didn’t wish to be immediately recognized.

“Ducky,” Severin gave a deferential bow and quick smile to the lovely courtesan. Recognition of the seductive lady dressed in a high-waisted gown of the sheerest silver muslin had been almost instant. “Is this matter truly none of my affair? Am I simply an old prude intruding on a romantic liaison?”

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