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Authors: Kate Harper

Tags: #romance, #suspense, #murder, #mystery, #regency

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BOOK: Lord Scoundrel Dies
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‘No, you’re damned
un
lucky if you’re rolled
up that badly,’ Charlie agreed grimly. ‘No,
more
than unlucky. You’re a gambling
pariah. Why do you do it?’

‘I like it,’ Mr. Truelove said simply.

‘You like to lose money?’

‘No, no. I like to place wagers and to be
honest, I don’t really think I’ll lose. But even if I did I don’t
think it would make any difference because placing wagers makes me
happy.’

‘It must certainly make your bookmaker
happy.’ Charlie stared at him for a long moment, then sighed.
‘You’re an idiot.’

‘I know. But it’s alright,’ Monty smiled
with far more confidence than his predicament deserved. ‘I have a
plan.’

‘I hate your plans. They usually end up with
you in an even worse pickle than you started out with.’

His friend looked offended. ‘That’s as may
be, but I really can’t go wrong with this one for if I don’t
succeed I’ll be no worse off.’

Charlie opened his mouth to protest that
that was highly unlikely but changed tack. ‘Tell me, then.’

‘I am going to break into the fellow’s place
tonight and steal my chits back.’

Charlie stared at him
incredulously. ‘You’re going to
what
?’

‘Oh I know it’s bad form,’ Monty said
hastily. ‘Debts of honor and all that. But the thing is, Sutton has
no honor to speak of and is one of the worst Banbury Men in London
and he’s far too full of juice for my liking. He was lording it
over me yesterday when we encountered each other at Waiters. It
made me dashed angry, I can tell you. So he can wait for his money.
When I come into my inheritance in six months’ time I will give him
what I owe then but right now –’

‘In the unlikely event that you find those
chits, you won’t be giving the man a groat, my lad now or at any
other time,’ Charlie snapped. ‘It’s about time somebody bloodied
that man’s cork for him. He makes a target of those who can’t
defend themselves.’ He had heard a rumor that it was Sutton who was
behind the suicide of Lord Fritton six months before, having driven
him into despair by just such a situation as Monty was in. The
details of the affair had been hushed up very efficiently but there
seemed no doubt as to who was responsible for Fritton’s death. ‘Are
you really going to try and break into the fellow’s place?’

‘Indeed I am. This very night.’ Monty eyed
Charlie hopefully. ‘What do you think? It’s not the worst plan in
the world, is it?’

It wasn’t the best, not by a long shot but
Mr. Lampforth could see why his friend was keen on tackling it.
Fronting up to B&L and putting out his hand for two thousand
pounds would be utterly soul destroying and while Charlie would be
happy to stump up for a loan, he would be hard pressed to come up
with that kind of scratch without moving a few mountains. All in
all, Mr. Truelove’s plan really wasn’t the worst one to be had in
that it had a small chance of succeeding.

‘All right, then. What time do we
leave?’

‘We?’ Monty said, with a mixture of hope and
uncertainty.

‘Of course. You don’t think I’m going to let
you do anything so madcap as break into Sutton’s place without me
there to watch your back? You’d get nabbed by his butler in all
likelihood. Fellow would probably call the Watch.’

‘You’re a damned good friend, Charles
Lampforth,’ Mr. Truelove said warmly.

‘Don’t go getting all mawkish on me, if you
please,’ Charlie begged him earnestly. ‘Have some of these kidneys
and some more coffee, for God’s sake. Then we’d better sort out a
plan. We need to know how we’re going to tackle tonight.’

‘A plan,’ Monty agreed, suddenly a great
deal more cheerful.

Charlie watched his friend gloomily as he
tucked into the breakfast that, not two minutes before, he could
not bring himself to face. But that was Montague Truelove for you;
troubles tended to sail on by, leaving sunny skies behind. If only.
Somehow or other, Charlie needed to sort out what to do to help his
friend. Because if there was one thing that was certain; for all of
his plans, Monty did not have a clue how to help himself.

 

 

Brindlebyrn Lodge,

Hounslow Heath

 

Not three miles distant from central
London…

 

 

‘If you do not tell me what is wrong, I
cannot help you,’ Aubrey, Viscount Talisker, tried to keep the
exasperation out of his voice because he knew from experience it
would make Celeste cry all the harder if she heard it. She was
currently wetting his waistcoat – a very nice waistcoat he was
extraordinarily fond of – her golden head leaning against his
chest. It had come to rest there some time before and he was
beginning to doubt that it was ever going to leave.

‘I… c-cannot… I…’ there followed something
unintelligible, followed by snuffling. He knew his sister-in-law
well enough to predict that she would come away from this encounter
in far better shape than he. Somehow, Celeste managed to remain
angelically unblotched while his clothing would probably require
considerable attention.

This was not how he liked to start the
day.

Patting sometimes helped, so he patted her
shoulder tentatively. He was very fond of Edward’s wife but there
were times when he wished that it was Edward’s clothing that bore
the brunt of Celeste’s more emotional excesses. The patting seemed
to do the trick because, after a time the sobs became sniffles,
which in turn, settled into a more rhythmic breathing pattern.

‘There now,’ he said cautiously. He wanted
to add something along the lines of ‘feel better?’ or ‘that’s the
ticket’ but, once again, experience had taught him well. Sometimes
it was best to just shut up and wait.

‘Oh Aubrey,’ she sighed, raising her –
predictably unblotched – face to his. Her blue eyes were still damp
with tears but they merely made her look delicate and vulnerable.
‘You are so good to me.’

‘I am,’ he agreed wryly. ‘I’m devilishly
good to you, considering I shall probably have to get changed. But
only tell me, whatever is the matter? Have you quarreled with
Edward?’

‘No. Oh no… although if he finds out what I
have done he will likely throw me aside and I could hardly blame
him. I promised, you see and… and…’ The tears threatened again,
making Aubrey fling himself hastily into the breach.

‘Why would he do anything of the kind?
Unless…’ he frowned at Celeste. ‘Have you been gambling again?’

She nodded, perfect pink lips quivering. ‘I
did not mean to. I swear I did not! But Lady Swann told me that she
knew the most marvelous place and… and I only intended to go and
have a very quick look. Not to do anything, you understand. But
then…’

‘But then there were card tables and all
manner of other things and you could not resist,’ his lordship said
grimly. ‘How much this time?’

‘It is not the money,’ Celeste protested.
‘For truly, I did not lose anything. I came to my senses quite
quickly and I left, I swear I did. And,’ she sniffed sadly, ‘I was
so proud of myself for leaving.’

‘So what is the problem, then? I mean I can
see how you might be cast down by the fact that you broke your
promise to Edward by going there in the first place – Lady Swann is
a wretch for taking you – but you saw the light so it’s a happy
ending, yes? I won’t tell him if you don’t. Just make sure it
doesn’t happen again.’

He couldn’t understand why she was so upset.
Yes, Celeste had promised his brother that she wouldn’t gamble any
more. She had developed a taste for the tables since their marriage
and had managed to rack up quite a few debts in the early days. In
themselves, the debts weren’t a problem for there was plenty of
money. That wasn’t the point and it hadn’t been why Edward had been
unhappy. Rather, his unhappiness stemmed from a very real concern
that his wife did not seem to be able to stay away from the kinds
of places a fellow did not want the woman he had married to be
seen. Celeste had promised him faithfully that she would be good
but it seemed she had lapsed.

‘I realised quite quickly that I was being
foolish, really I did Aubrey. I decided I would leave immediately
and return home. But I ran into somebody at the door and they
recognized me and… and…’

‘They recognized you? That’s hardly
surprising, surely.’ He still was not sure what the problem was.
Not that he wasn’t trying. Celeste’s outburst was making him late
for an appointment and he was eager to reach an understanding,
bestow absolution and be gone. He was meeting several fellows at
Gentleman Jackson’s for a good go round with the master and he was
going to be deuced late if they didn’t move this along.

‘I did not want to be recognized in such a
place and my mask had fallen off –’

‘You were wearing a mask? What the devil
were you doing that for? I thought it was some sort of club.’

‘It is. The Pharaoh Club, which is
absolutely the rage right now. Unfortunately it is the kind of club
that Edward might not like me being seen in so I wore a mask to
ensure nobody recognized me,’ Celeste explained in a small
voice.

Aubrey shook his head. ‘I can quite see why
Edward flies up in the boughs about this gambling business. It
sounds decidedly shady.’ When Celeste’s lips quivered again, he
held up a hasty hand. ‘But never mind about that now. Your mask
fell off and somebody recognized you. Proceed, I beg you.’

‘The man I ran into
threatened to tell Edward where I was and what I was up to if I did
not give him some money!’ The words exploded out of Celeste
forcefully. ‘I am being
blackmailed
Aubrey and I do not know what to do.’

Aubrey looked at her in astonishment.
‘Blackmailed? The deuce you are. Who would dare to do such a
thing?’

‘Lord Sutton,’ Celeste quivered. ‘Who is
absolutely the very worst person who could be blackmailing me as
Edward dislikes the man intensely.’

Aubrey could not help but
take a moment to wonder who his sister-in-law would consider to be
a
better
sort of
blackmailer. A good friend? An amiable acquaintance? Not that it
was any surprise to learn that Edward did not like Sutton. He
didn’t care for him any more than his brother did.

‘Are you telling me that Arthur Sutton had
the impertinence to try and blackmail you?’

‘Indeed. It is rather a
hobby of his. He is one of those unfortunate creatures that appear
when you least want him to and discovers all manner of things one
would prefer him not to know. Why, he managed to get nearly two
hundred pounds off poor Selena Winton. Of course, she
was
having an affair, but
even so, it did seem rather wicked. Selena ended up having a
breakdown and retiring to Kent. Can you imagine?’

Aubrey was astonished. Clearly Society was
harboring a snake in the grass. This was intolerable behavior. ‘Why
doesn’t somebody do something about it?’

Celeste looked at him, perplexed. ‘What do
you mean?’

‘I mean, why doesn’t somebody call the
blackguard on it? A man cannot go round scaring funds out of people
in such a manner. It’s just not done.’

‘Well the thing is, nobody wants their
secrets aired in public and so they pay up,’ Celeste explained,
clearly surprised that her brother-in-law needed to be told such an
obvious thing. ‘What else are they supposed to do?’

‘Tell him to go to the
devil,
I’d
say,’
Aubrey retorted grimly.

‘Well that’s all very well for you, Aubrey
dear. You don’t care what anybody knows about you. Besides, you’re
a man and men can get away with anything. Women cannot. Our
reputations are so very fragile.’

‘But he wouldn’t really speak of it, surely.
I mean, it’s a sly kind of creature that would try anything of the
kind.’

‘Mary Fitzherbert did not pay up and
suddenly it was common knowledge that she wears wigs. She has no
hair, you know.’

‘Mrs. Fitzherbert has no hair?’ Aubrey
repeated, taken aback.

‘No, but her wigs are awfully good. They
come from Paris, I believe. You really can’t tell the
difference.’

‘Well sink me! And you’re saying Sutton put
the news about?’

‘Of course. Poor thing, she’s still in
Cornwell. I don’t think she has the nerve to come back.’

‘It seems to me,’ Aubrey said ominously,
‘that somebody should have a word with our Lord Sutton. I’ll be
damn… uh, deuced if he should be allowed to get away with this kind
of thing. I mean, I never liked the man but I never dreamed that he
was such a wrong ‘un.’

‘You can’t have words with
him. Edward would hear of it and then I really
would
be in a mess. He would want to
know why you had elected to… to… Good heavens Aubrey, never tell me
you’d call him out!’

‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ he begged. ‘I am
merely going to suggest that he never speak to you again. I am not
having that man threaten my family.’

‘You’re very sweet, Aubrey but –’

‘Sweet be damned. Sutton is going to receive
what appears to be a long overdue talking to. Don’t worry about it
Celeste, Edward need not know anything about it. You can leave the
man to me.’

Chapter Two

 

 

 

 

Harry waited until eleven before she
ventured out. She had dressed for the evening ahead in breeches,
waistcoat and jacket with a hat covering her bright curls to
disguise their revealing glow. Her Aunt Margaret might find Harry’s
hair color to be delightful – possibly the only thing about her
niece she did appreciate – but her locks were far too vivid to be
allowed to see the light of day on such stealthy business as she
was about. Dressing as a lad was not unheard of for she had done so
at home for pantomimes and the occasional play and enjoyed the
freedom it afforded. Besides, nobody would be likely to recognize
Miss Harriet Honeywood in such a guise even if they knew her well,
which they did not as she was newly arrived in London. She had no
desire to generate censure so quickly after her arrival. It would
be nice to have a few weeks before anybody tumbled to the fact that
she was socially disastrous.

BOOK: Lord Scoundrel Dies
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