Intriguing. Handsome. Magnetic.
“He is not a good man, Freddy,” Leonora interrupted, saving her from making any embarrassing admissions. “Good heavens, he has beggared lords without compunction. He preys upon the weaknesses of lesser men for his own benefit. He harbors ladies of ill repute within his establishment. Scoundrels like him are the reason why you are writingThe Silent Baron.”
“Yes.” She could not deny her friend’s words, for they were true. All of them. Even the last. Gambling was a sin. It was wrong. The way in which men such as Duncan Kirkwood earned their fortunes by exploiting the weaknesses of others had motivated her to writeThe Silent Baron. Her book would be a culmination of fact, fiction, intrigue, mystery, sin, and—ultimately—redemption. “I cannot argue with you, Leonora, but there is something about Mr. Kirkwood that is oddly compelling. I cannot explain it or make sense of it myself. How I wish you could accompany me.”
“Accompany you?” Leonora’s eyes widened. “Are you mad? What violence did he commit against you? Are you frightened of him? You can go away—join your father in the country, perhaps—if you fear for your safety.”
She shook her head. “He did nothing to me.”
Not true,taunted her conscience.He took you to the viewing corridor. He allowed you to witness unspeakable acts. He showed you depravity without a hint of remorse. Indeed, he was proud of it. And you liked it. You were not shocked or thoroughly disgusted as you ought to have been. Perhaps there is something wrong with you as well. Some moral deficiency.
Frederica ordered her conscience to muzzle itself at once. She had no wish to hear anything further on the matter. Her decision had been made, and it made her chest fill with a buoyancy she had never before felt.Freedom. Choice.She could be wicked if she chose. How freeing. How tempting.
“Did he take liberties?” Leonora demanded, her voice strident enough to attract the attention of their lady’s maids.
Frederica pressed her lips in a firm line and forced herself to answer in an equally loud tone. “That is what the gossip sheet claimed about Lady Marigold, but I am not certain we ought to believe such scurrilous accounts.”
“Just so,” Leonora agreed. “How remiss of me. Idle gossip ought never to be considered.”
“No,” Frederica agreed quietly. “It should not. I cannot explain it, Leonora. Do not ask it of me. All I can say is there is something decidedly different about him. Something intriguing. He is not altogether bad. Certainly not good either. But he is not the devil we have suspected him of being. I feel confident of it.”
“It does not signify,” Leonora charged quietly. “Freddy, you cannot mean to return. You cannot even contemplate it.”
But she was. And she would.
She was beginning to realize, however, she would never convince her friend of the wisdom of her decision. For the first time in their lengthy friendship, Frederica decided to do the unthinkable.
She lied. “You are quite right, of course, dear friend. I shan’t return. It would be dangerous, foolhardy, and ruinous. I do tend to allow my imagination to guide me, and I shall not make the same mistake in this instance. I will simply make the best of the research I was able to gather on my foray there yesterday.”
Leonora’s eyes narrowed into slits. Her disbelief of Frederica’s abrupt change of heart was apparent. “You cannot return, Freddy. It is not an abundance of caution on my part but rather my love for you that prompts me to warn you.”
Frederica sent her friend a reassuring smile. “Naturally, I shall not. Pray do not trouble yourself another moment more on my account, Leonora. I bow to your superior wisdom, as ever.”
If all went according to plan, Leonora would never know.
Just one more trip into the devil’s den, she promised herself. Another jaunt to The Duke’s Bastard.
Once more.
That was all she wanted. All she needed. For the sake of research alone. Of course.
Leonora pinned her with a searching look she could not like. “My wisdom is superior indeed. Do not forget I warned you.”
Frederica smiled. “I never required a warning, dear heart.”
Perhaps you do, threatened the voice once more.Perhaps you ought to take heed.
She smothered it in the same fashion she buried her friend’s doubts.Down, down, down.Until it was no longer there.
Chapter Four
“Sir, there isa visitor for you.”
Bloody, bloody, misbegotten hell.
Hades and Beelzebub.
Hellfire and damnation.
