To Sin With A Scoundrel (25 page)

“Because I stopped by myself”—Jack held up his hand to cut off the curses—“to return an earbob that Lady Sheffield dropped
in my curricle.”

Somewhat mollified, Lucas muttered a few soothing words to his horse before replying. “You could have given it to me.”

“I thought you would be laid up for the day—with one of your usual cyprians to minister to your physical comfort.”

“You are one to talk,” retorted Lucas.

“I am not the one engaged to be married,” pointed out his friend. “So my habits are irrelevant. And besides, I was curious.”
He fingered his watch fobs. “You did not mention that Lady Sheffield is interested in classical art.”

“She is interested in a great many subjects. Her intellectual abilities are most impressive.”

“Well, she can’t be all that smart,” drawled Jack.

Lucas scowled. “Now see here, Jack—”

“She agreed to an engagement with you.”

He waited for his friend to mount, then urged his stallion into the narrow alleyway leading to the street.

“It’s a little complex,” muttered Lucas as they turned the corner.

“Well, keep it simple,” countered Jack. “You are, after all, Mad, Bad Had-ley. A fellow not given to thinking too deeply about
things.”

Lucas swore under his breath.

“I’m just trying to make you think twice before you get involved in something you’ll regret.”

The observation touched a sore spot. “Damn it, Jack,” replied Lucas. “People
do
change.”

The low snort did not come from one of the horses. “True, for right now I hardly recognize my fellow rakehell reveler. Indeed,
if I wished to be snide, I might imply that the widow slipped some potent potion into your medicine.”

Lucas felt his jaw harden.

“But I won’t,” continued Jack quickly. “I shall merely ask if the transformation is a permanent one?”

Lucas wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “Look, it’s a long story.”

Jack slanted him a sidelong look. “It’s a long ride.”

Ciara dabbed a drop of lavender oil to her temples and breathed in deeply. Mingled with the piney tang of the steam wafting
up from the simmering cauldron, the floral fragrance helped her knotted nerves to unwind.

“Ciao, cara!”
The lilt of Italian floated in from the corridor.

Ciara pushed a damp curl behind her ear. Was her head in such a fog that she had forgotten an appointment with Alessandra?
Her friend did not make a habit of dropping in without warning.

“I have something very interesting to show you,” announced Alessandra as she sailed through the door without knocking. “But
first, you must tell me—has Lord Lucifer a rival for your affections? I just saw the Prince of Darkness leaving your door.”

“Oh, you must mean Hadley’s friend, Lord James Pierson.” Ciara went back to measuring the bath oil into a set of glass bottles.
“Though from what I understand, his friends do call him Black Jack.”

“Whatever his name, Hadley’s
amico
is a handsome devil. But he looked as if someone had stuck a red-hot pitchfork up his arse. I swear, there was smoke coming
out of his ears.” Alessandra sniffed at the cloud of steam.
“Bella, bella,”
she murmured, rubbing at her neck. “I should like to soak for hours in a tub perfumed with—” She stopped short. “Good God,
you look pale as a ghost!”

“I may soon be one,” she said with an attempt at humor. “If my late husband’s family has any say in the matter.”

Alessandra clasped her hand. “Is that man—Black Jack—part of their cabal?” she demanded. “Did he come here to torment you
on their behalf?”

Ciara shook her head. “Lord James’s only quarrel with me is that he doesn’t approve of Hadley’s involvement in my affairs.
He’s afraid that his friend may suffer from getting too close to me. I can’t say I blame him.” Sighing, she went on to recount
what had happened in the park.

“Santa cielo,”
muttered Alessandra. “This is bad.”

“And likely to get worse.” Ciara tugged off her apron. “Alessa, although you speak little about your life in Italy, I have
a feeling that you are acquainted with certain circles of… radicals. Do you know anyone who could help me… disappear?”

Her friend looked away, hiding her expression in the scrim of steam. “Oh,
tesora,
I counsel you to think very long and hard before taking such an extreme step. To be a fugitive, always looking over your
shoulder, is not a life that I would wish on anyone.”

“I know, I know. But I am desperate.”

“To run now will give truth to the rumors that you committed murder.” The mist had formed droplets of water on the tips of
her lashes. Alessandra blinked and one fell away, etching a path down her ashen cheek. “Before you take that fatal step, I
would advise you to be very sure that you have no other alternative.”

Ciara reached out and touched her friend’s hand. Their fingers curled together. “Oh, Alessa,” she began.

Alessandra pulled free, her rings flashing with fire as she gestured for silence. “So let us put our heads together and decide
on the best course of action.”

Sensing that her friend would not talk about her own travails, Ciara gave a tiny nod.

“Has anything else happened to alarm you?”

“Sir Arthur was here this morning. The threats from Sheffield’s family are growing worse. And I have been thinking…” Ciara’s voice caught in her throat for an instant. “Is—is it possible that Perry’s mishap was no accident?” she said,
forcing out the terrible words. “When you look at it dispassionately, it is only logical that they seek to get rid of him.
Why go through all the trouble of raising Perry, when his demise means that the family lands and title go to Battersham, whose
loyalties are not a question?”

Alessandra’s eyes flooded with compassion.

“Besides, they would kill two birds with one stone,” went on Ciara. “If anything happened to Perry, it would cast more suspicions
on me. The hue and cry for my neck would have me on the gibbet at Newgate in no time.”

“Let us not panic,” counseled Alessandra. She thought for a moment. “Have you mentioned your fears to Hadley?”

“Lord, no!” Ciara hoped the quivering of her lips was not too obvious. “The man was nearly killed yesterday on account of
us. Risking life and limb was not part of our bargain. I can’t in good conscience drag him any deeper into my travails. It
is
my
responsibility to figure out a solution to this problem.”

“And we will,
cara,
” assured Alessandra. “The Circle may be somewhat smaller right now, but the three of us are clever enough to outwit the Sheffields.”

Ciara felt her insides unclench. “Oh, what would I do without such stalwart friends?” she murmured, wiping a sleeve across
her eyes.

“No tears.” Her friend wagged a bejeweled finger. “Men like that bullying oaf Battersham think that women are capable of naught
but hysterics. It will be a great pleasure to prove him wrong,
si?
”

“Si.”
She smiled through a sniff. “You are right, of course. We shall beat them at their own game.”

“That’s the spirit.” Alessandra gave her a quick hug. “For the moment, you must put on a brave face and go on in society as
if you haven’t a care in the world. Perception is part of the battle—let the
ton
see you smile and make merry and they will assume you have nothing to hide.”

“Hmmm.” She blinked. “Hadley said something similar the night of our first appearance in public.”

“Ah, so he has both beauty
and
brains,” quipped her friend.

Ciara wasn’t quite sure how to reply. Hadley played the careless rakehell well, but she, too, was starting to believe that
there was a great deal more to him than a sinful smile.

“Bene.”
Linking arms, Alessandra led her to the door. “Now, let’s go to the library. As I said, I have something very intriguing
to show you.”

L
ucas uttered a grim oath as he slipped out of the dank stable. “Let’s be gone. This place stinks of shite,” he muttered.

“Filth begets filth,” agreed Jack, untying his reins from the rusting railing. “It’s a nasty business the fellow runs, but
the sad truth is, the government gives many of our ex-soldiers little choice but to turn to a life of crime to survive. At
least we’ve a lead to follow.”

He grunted. “I’ve no doubt it will take us to Battersham’s doorstep. I swear, I will beat the bastard to a bloody pulp.”

“You won’t be able to protect your lady if you are swinging from a gibbet,” warned his friend. “We’ll need to gather proof
of Battersham’s perfidy.”

Lucas swore again.

“Look, why not leave this to me? I’ll enlist Haddan and Woodbridge to help. Between the three of us, we have enough connections
with former military men to call in a few favors.”

Lucas urged his horse to a quicker pace through the twisting alley. “Well, if you are serious about helping…”

“Of course I will help,” interrupted Jack. “And so will Nicholas and Devlin. We are friends, Lucas. No more need be said.”

Friendship.
Jack made it sound so simple.

“It looks like you will have your hands full looking after the lady,” added Jack dryly. “Why is it I hadn’t heard what a stunner
she is?”

“She’s been careful to keep her charms under wraps,” he replied. “Her experiences with men haven’t been overly good.”

Jack slanted a sidelong look. Lucas felt it linger a little longer than he would have liked.

“Don’t say it,” he muttered, feeling a stab of guilt for his thoughts of the previous night. “My reputation may not be lily
white, but I’ve no intention of being a blackguard with Lady Sheffield.”

That would, of course, depend on what shade of meaning was given to the word.

His friend seemed to be reading his mind. “I trust you will act honorably. The lady has enough trouble.”

“I thought you didn’t approve of her,” said Lucas a little snidely. “Why the sudden concern?”

“I didn’t approve of you involving yourself in her affairs,” corrected Jack. “And I still don’t, despite your explanation.”
Lucas had told his friend about Henry’s manuscript and the bargain of mutual aid with Lady Sheffield. “As to the lady herself,
I admit that my preconceived notions about her were wrong. However, there are too many things that can…”

“Blow up in my face?” suggested Lucas.

“Both of you are playing with fire.” Jack frowned. “This sham courtship could reflect badly on Lady Sheffield and leave your
reputation in complete tatters.”

“It was awfully frayed to begin with,” quipped Lucas.

“That’s my point—you are hanging on to your position in respectable Society by only a thread. It would be a pity to cut all
connections with the Polite World.”

“Respectability and manners are a crashing bore,” snapped Lucas. Even to his own ears, the retort had a hollow ring.

“You sound like a schoolboy, Lucas.”

“Since when have you turned so staid?” he retorted.

Jack didn’t deign to answer the gibe. “All I am saying is, be careful.” He guided his horse around a lumbering dray cart.
“Any chance you are actually going to marry the widow?”

Lucas jerked on the reins. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

“What do you think?” he snapped.

“Given your erratic behavior of late, it’s impossible to guess what you’ll do next.”

Ciara studied the sequence of letters one more time. “Why, I believe you are right,” she mused. “Whatever inspired you to
make such a guess?”

“Something you said earlier got me to thinking.” Opening an old leatherbound book, Alessandra pointed out several passages.
“See here, the chronicler speaks of a colony of Egyptian traders based in India. So it seemed logical to look to the dialect
of ancient Cairo for a clue to the code.”

Ciara read over the text. “I would never have thought of that,” she said admiringly.

“Only because cryptography is not your usual field of study.”

“You are being far too modest.” She carefully refolded the sheets of papers with her friend’s transcription. “That leaves
just one last section of the manuscript to figure out.”