A Persistant Attraction (15 page)

She was talking with a tall blond-haired man he had seen her with before. Two other men were present. He assumed they must be good friends of Miss Halverston’s gentleman by their casual manner with the couple. The entire group looked young and carefree. Rhys felt a pang of nostalgia but dismissed it posthaste.

Amanda introduced Mr. Whittaker, and he, in turn, introduced his friends. After a few moments of casual talk, Amanda asked to speak privately with her sister for a few moments. Mr. Whittaker promised to find Miss Halverston before their next dance. Then he and his friends went in search of refreshments.

“Perhaps we should go a ways into the garden,” Rhys suggested.

“Yes, that would be best,” Amanda replied. Her sister looked concerned, but Miss Halverston took the arm Rhys offered her, and the three of them walked outside.

“What is going on?” Miss Halverston asked once they had gone far enough from the house that Rhys felt comfortable stopping by a bench.

Amanda spoke first. “There was a man dancing in your set, a few couples below you and Mr. Whittaker. He was tall and very thin with hair far too long to be fashionable.”

“The pale man with the bushy eyebrows?”

“Yes. Do you know his name?”

Rhys recognized Amanda’s description. Faron d’Eglantine was here, and Amanda had noticed him last night, after all. A knot formed in his stomach.

Miss Halverston shook her head. “I’ve never seen him before.”

“Did he say anything to you when you crossed paths in the set?”

“Not that I can recall. The dance was rather complex. I was concentrating too much to make conversation. Why? Do you think—” She paused and looked around. “Is he connected with your attack?”

Amanda shrugged. “I don’t know. I believe I saw him last night when I was…out.” Rhys smiled. So Amanda had confided in her sister. He was glad someone in Amanda’s household knew she was in danger.

“Would you like me to make inquiries?”

“No!” Rhys and Amanda answered simultaneously.

Rhys continued, “I know the man Amanda is describing. He is not someone you should be acquainted with. If you find yourself near him again, do not do anything to draw his attention. But if you hear his name or he says anything unusual or improper, let me or—”

Amanda interrupted him. “You will do no such thing. Stay as far away from him as possible.” She gave Rhys a scathing look.

Now who’s overprotective?
He raised his brow at her before turning to her sister. “I do not recommend that you seek out his company. But if you are in close proximity again, listen carefully to anything you hear him say.”

“Only if Mr. Whittaker or another trustworthy gentleman is with you.” Miss Halverston’s eyes narrowed. “Who is this man?”

Rhys answered before Amanda had a chance. “I suspect that he is involved in serious criminal activities. I cannot caution you enough to be careful around him.” Miss Halverston looked dissatisfied with his answer, but she nodded and asked nothing further.

“Shall we return to Aunt Claire now?” Amanda asked.

Rhys stood and offered his arms to the ladies. He liked the younger Miss Halverston.

She was warm, vibrant and vivacious. He could see why many of the Season’s young bucks were ready to lie down at her feet. But for some unexplained reason, he preferred the challenge of countering Amanda’s barbs to the sweet innocence her sister offered.

Once inside, they delivered the younger Miss Halverston to her aunt’s side. Rhys had planned to ask Amanda to dance so they could get a good view of the crowd. He was hoping for a waltz, not wanting to risk joining a set with d’Eglantine or Mouton. But as he opened his mouth to ask her, those very men exited the ballroom through a side door.

“Stay here.” He lifted Amanda’s hand from his arm. “I need to check on someone.”

“I’ll come with you.” He gave her a look that would have frozen the blood of most men, but she was undaunted. “You said we could work together.”

“No, I said I would help you solve your own dilemma, and you promised to listen to me.”

“I might recognize someone you would not.”

Rhys closed his eyes and exhaled. “You may come with me, but if I tell you to go back to the ballroom, do so immediately. Your life may depend on it.” When they entered the foyer, Rhys saw the two men disappear up the stairs. He motioned for Amanda to follow him, and they ascended to the next floor. He was grateful Amanda had chosen soft-soled slippers for the evening, but her dress rustled far too loudly in the silent hallway. Fortunately Mouton and d’Eglantine were whispering to each other and did not notice their pursuit.

At the end of the second floor corridor, the two men turned a corner. Rhys imagined they were looking for a back stairway. He signaled for Amanda to stop and leaned slowly around the corner, hoping to see where the men were headed.

Mouton cursed loudly as he tried a doorknob and found it locked.

“Shut up, you bastard.” D’Eglantine turned to the only other doorway in that part of the hall. It opened easily and the men stepped inside.

Rhys faced Amanda. As he did so, he stepped on her toe. She brought her hand to her mouth, but a shriek still escaped.

Around the corner, a door opened.

Fear washed over Rhys. Mouton and d’Eglantine were mere steps away. He pulled Amanda into the closest room, thankful it wasn’t locked.

Seconds passed. Someone walked by the door then turned and passed by again.

When he heard nothing else for several seconds, he exhaled for the first time since the crisis began.

They were in a private sitting room, likely attached to one of the female family member’s chambers. As he took in the lush carpets and nauseating pink decor, his gaze and Amanda’s met.

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.

He nodded and smiled at her. Her reaction had been quite natural, and she had tried to stifle it. He couldn’t blame her. He had no such excuse for his own clumsiness. He’d never been this inept in the field, further proof that Farrington’s notion of working with Amanda was ludicrous.

Fortunately, their impromptu hiding place was adjacent to the room Mouton and d’Eglantine had chosen for their meeting. Rhys motioned for Amanda to follow him as he crossed the room and put his ear against the far wall. Amanda joined him, and she drew in her breath as they heard a loud, distinct curse from d’Eglantine. Rhys pointed to her ear and motioned for her to listen.

The next words he heard were muffled, but Rhys thought they came from a third, unidentified speaker.

D’Eglantine cursed loudly again. Then the third party spoke in an angry tone. Rhys could only make out a few precise words, but he gathered that the unknown man was

displeased with how slowly Mouton and d’Eglantine were progressing with their assignment.

D’Eglantine must have moved closer to the wall where Rhys and Amanda stood listening, because when he spoke again, his words came through clearly. “We’re not meeting the others for a fortnight. You have nothing to worry about. We will have gathered more support before then.”

The unidentified man said something along the lines of “see that you do”. Then, after a pause, he said, “And you!”, speaking the words as if they were a curse.

“Me?” Mouton inquired.

The man’s anger made him raise his voice enough to be heard clearly. “Yes, you idiot, who else would I be speaking too? You will stop all pursuit of your vendetta against this woman.”

“But she’s—”

Could they be talking about Amanda?
Rhys glanced over at her. She had her ear pressed tightly to the wall, and her face showed a look of deep concentration.

The unidentified man interrupted Mouton. “She will be dealt with, but she is no longer your concern. You are here to help, Faron, and you need no distractions.”

“But I—”

“I will hear no more protests. Anything else you learn about her will be communicated to me. You will not act against her on your own.” Rhys watched fear cross Amanda’s face. He wanted to reassure her, but he didn’t want to risk speaking.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” Mouton answered, sounding like a recalcitrant child.

“Good, that is all for now. Please have the good sense to return to the party separately and stay apart for the rest of the evening. The fewer people connect the two of you, the better.”

Rhys heard retreating footsteps. Then the door opened and closed.

“Bastard,” Mouton said. “She was there last night. I know it was her.”

“You know nothing for certain, and you will do as he said. I told you it was foolish to mix your personal business in this.”

“But she’s involved. I want her and that damned man she’s working with. I owe him one too.”

“Your loyalty should be to this mission alone.”

“I made a deal. I would work for Les Centimes if I could use this trip to get my revenge.”

“The deal has changed. You’d better change with it if you know what’s good for you.”

Loud footsteps echoed, then a door slammed.

Rhys looked at Amanda. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her eyes were wide. He held his fingers to his lips, wanting to be certain she kept silent until whichever man was still in the room made his exit.

A few moments later, a door opened and quiet footsteps passed down the hall.

“They were talking about me, weren’t they?” Amanda asked, her voice shakier than he’d ever heard it.

Rhys was disturbed by her pallor. He’d never seen her show fear before. “I’m afraid so,” he said. “Did you recognize either of the men we followed?” He motioned for her to sit down on the settee.

“I saw them both earlier tonight.”

“One was dancing in the set with your sister?”

“Yes.”

“And the other?”

“When I was searching for my sister, I ran into him, literally. I thought he looked familiar, and I realized I had seen him at the Black Eagle two nights ago. I think I’ve seen him somewhere else too, but I do not know where.” Rhys nodded. Both Langley and Amanda finding Mouton familiar was no coincidence. The man had definitely been in London before.

“He’s horrible. He flirted openly and asked me to dance when we had not been introduced.” Amanda shuddered. “Do you think he’s the man who attacked me?” Rhys nodded. An image of Mouton holding court by the betting book came to his mind, and red hot anger had him gripping the edge of his seat. “Do you have any idea how he knows you?”

“No, and I have no idea why he would want revenge on me unless he is connected with my father. He obviously has a vendetta against you too.”

“Yes.” Rhys debated telling her about the bet, warning her that was yet another way the man was trying to get to her, but he couldn’t do it. He’d put his name in the book to protect his operation and thus to protect Amanda. But he feared she wouldn’t accept his motives.

Suddenly, Amanda leaned forward and gripped his knee. “I know why he’s familiar.

He looks like the Linton twins. It’s his eyes, but he can’t be…Walter, can he?” Rhys’s memories catapulted him back months. The Linton twins, friends of Cassandra’s deceased husband Lord Reddington, had taken over Reddington’s business interests in an organization that forced young women into sexual slavery. The Lintons had taken offense at the cold reception Amanda had given them during the Season and decided she would be their next acquisition.

Mark had prevented her capture. Then Mark had been kidnapped himself by one of their accomplices. Rhys had gathered men to go after him, and Amanda and Cassandra had insisted on accompanying him. By the time they reached Mark, Oscar Linton had been killed by the men he worked for. His brother, Walter, eluded capture and disappeared.

Amanda was right. Mouton had the same froglike appearance as the Lintons, but Walter had died in France. “You’re right about the resemblance, but Walter is dead.”

“I thought he was never found.”

“No public mention was made of his death, but I continued to follow police progress on the case, and I contacted some…friends on the continent. Walter didn’t survive long after he arrived in France.”

“Then who is this man?”

“A cousin, perhaps? I’ll have a friend investigate the family. Perhaps they have relatives in France.”

“But the watch we found. W.B.L.—those are Walter’s initials.” Rhys ran his hand through his hair. He knew as well as anyone that a death could be faked. Walter’s body had supposedly been found, but how sure were the authorities that they had the right man? He wished to hell he’d asked more questions five months ago.

“I’ll find out what I can about the circumstances of Walter’s death. You stay as far away from Mouton as possible.”

“But we don’t want him to know we’ve recognized him.”

“You have only to act as you naturally would. You would never begin an acquaintance with a man of his character.”

Amanda nodded. “I suppose not. Of course I normally wouldn’t speak more than a few cutting words to a man like you either.” Rhys chuckled. Why did Amanda’s abrasiveness make her all the more attractive?

He had been a fan of easy conquests in the past. Since Therese had died, he had also preferred relationships that allowed him to stay numb, at least on the inside. There could be no such distance with Amanda. “I’m a friend of your brother-in-law. You are required to suffer my attentions for the sake of family harmony.”

“Ha! I’ve never been concerned with family harmony before.” In that moment, Rhys realized how hard it must have been for Amanda to grow up with a father who saw his daughters as nothing but possessions to be used to his advantage and a mother too weak to stop him. Had it not been for her sisters and her aunt, she would have grown up entirely without love. “You care about your aunt’s opinion.” Amanda nodded. “Yes I do. Very much.”

“If she knew what you were doing, she would be proud.”

“I hope so. I feel so wretched about lying to her.” Rhys hated the sadness in Amanda’s eyes. He’d thought nothing could be worse than the cutting look of contempt she had given him the night before, but he had been wrong.

Seeing her look defeated was much worse. He cupped her face with his hands and tilted her chin so she had to look up at him. “You should tell her the truth.”