He cocked his head at her, flashing a sly grin. “Can you not, my lady? Because I can think of many. Specifically, one thousand pounds’ worth.”
“One thousand pounds?” She stared at him, failing to understand.
“Yes, Lady Huntingdon, one thousand pounds.” He raised a brow. “Recently, I came into a bit of misfortune, and I find myself in need of funds. Therefore, I am making calls upon all those indebted to me. You are one such person.”
She stiffened. “I am hardly indebted to you, my lord.”
“On the contrary, my lady. You arranged for an assignation with me, did you not?”
Helena refused to answer. For they both already knew she had.
“I think it is best if you leave now, Lord Algernon,” she told him frostily. “I owe you nothing. You shall have to collect your thousand pounds from someone else.”
“I am afraid leaving would not be in my best interest.” He moved toward her. “You are wrong to think you owe me nothing. It is thanks to me that you find yourself the Countess of Huntingdon. And what a clever jade you are, entrapping him into marriage when all London knows the earl was betrothed to Lady Beatrice first. Tell me, my lady, did you allow him to toss up your skirts at my bachelor residence, or did you go somewhere else for the honor?”
She would have slapped him for his impertinence were he nearer, the despicable cad. “If you will not leave, Lord Algernon, I shall have you thrown out.”
“I do not think you will, my dear countess,” he countered smoothly. “You see, there is something I have of yours, something which shall only be returned upon my receipt of the one thousand pounds.”
Instantly, she thought of the necklace she had lost. “I will not be coerced into giving you funds in return for anything.”
“Ah, I see your mind feverishly working,” Lord Algernon said. “However, you may wish to rethink your opinion on the matter. The item in question is a pearl necklace with an emerald pendant. One you are known to wear frequently. I do not see you wearing it today. Could it be because you left it on the floor of my chamber?”
Her necklace.Good heavens.She had noticed it missing that day, but in the madness which had followed, it had fallen from her mind.
Her fingers sank into her silken skirts, crushing them. “Your possession of a necklace hardly means anything, Lord Algernon.”
“Perhaps not to you, but I dare say it would mean a great deal to the gossips and the scandal mongers.” His smile turned nasty. “Imagine the details which could circulate. Such shocking tales. I do not suppose your husband would be pleased if all England knew what a scheming harlot he has taken as his countess.”
The thought of her plot to ruin herself being turned into fodder for the gossip mill made bile rise up her throat. As did the notion of the shame it would bring upon Gabe. They were newly married, and he placed such high importance upon his sense of honor and duty. They had only just begun to find a tentative truce. Scandal of the sort Lord Algernon threatened could have a devastating effect upon them both.
Still, she would not be strong-armed into doing this villain’s bidding. “My husband is aware of the reason I was attempting to ruin my reputation. It was solely to avoid an unwanted betrothal and marriage.”
“Do you suppose anyone will give a damn about the reasons, Lady Huntingdon?” Lord Algernon sneered. “I think not. They will be only too eager for fresh scandal. Imagine, if you will, the great Earl of Huntingdon’s reason for hastily abandoning his betrothed and marrying you. I will happily tell everyone I had you first.”
She recoiled at his last threat, for it was what she feared he had been intimating. “That would be a lie.”
“Yes, but who has your necklace, my lady?” He raised a brow, victory in his voice. “You never should have been so reckless, attempting to ruin your reputation. If you had taken greater care, you would not find yourself in this position. However, you did. I need one thousand pounds to settle some gambling debts, and you need the return of your necklace. It seems an honest trade.”
Nothing about the trade was honest, and they both knew it.
“I do not have one thousand pounds,” she said, for it was the truth. Her dowry was modest, and she did not have all the funds immediately at her disposal as Huntingdon had invested many of them with her blessing.
“Your husband has that and more,” Lord Algernon countered.
Correctly, drat him, for Gabe’s wealth was undeniable and well-known. And yet, she could not ask Gabe for money to pay for Lord Algernon’s silence. Just when she felt as if they were making progress in their marriage, he withdrew. Their evenings were spent in passion and by day, they remained the same polite earl and countess who were virtual strangers to each other. She feared that broaching the topic would shatter what little Gabe was willing to share with her.
“He will not give you a thousand pounds,” she said, knowing it was true.
Even if she went to Gabe with the request, he would be outraged. He would likely charge instantly to Lord Algernon’s apartments, and she could only shudder to consider the consequences of such a meeting.
“No, he will not.” Lord Algernon smiled again. “You, however, will, my dear countess. That is why I have sought you out. One thousand pounds in return for my lifelong silence and the necklace. Say nothing to your sainted earl of the matter. If you do, I will go to the gossip rags with my sordid tale, but I shall make it worse by letting everyone know Huntingdon wedded you after ouraffaireout of sympathy. Bring the funds to me tomorrow at two o’clock in the afternoon, or your secret will be shared with the world. And I dare say your husband will never forgive you for the shame you shall bring upon him.”
Helena stared at him, stricken, fearing he could be right.
She had already forced Gabe into this marriage. If she ruined his reputation, she did not know what would happen to the progress they had made. The last few days had given her a glimmer of hope they could have a happy marriage in the future, and now, it seemed it would be ruthlessly snatched away.
Unless she did as the insidious man before her demanded.
