Hart quirked his lips at the younger man’s catch. A gaming hell in Holburn seemed an unlikely place to see the same symbol that a duke used to mark his correspondence. “Interesting. What’s the name of the place?”
“The Blue Angel.” Danby flushed as his gaze slid to the ladies.
His sister laughed. “It’s fine, George. We know men attend all sorts of unsavory entertainments.” She patted her brother’s arm. “We’re not naïve.”
“Hmmm, my curiosity is piqued,” Lucy said.
Hart raised an eyebrow.
“Not about the gaming hell. About why it has the Knot of Isis over the door.”
“Me too,” he murmured.
Danby turned to his sister. “We’d best head back to our seats.”
She nodded and gave a small curtsy. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Lady Amberley. Lord Danby.”
After the viscount and his sister left the box, Trudy came to take her seat next to Lucy. “Did you have a nice visit with Viscount Danby and his sister, dear?”
“Yes, it’s always a pleasure to see Adeline out of the house,” Lucy replied.
“Her brother is very handsome, don’t you think?”
“George? Yes, I used to have quite the adolescent tendre for him.” She chuckled.
Hart frowned.Handsome, bah.He took his seat, and he kept his hands to himself as the gas lights were dimmed. After he dropped off the ladies tonight, he would take a ride to the Blue Angel. Perhaps someone would be willing to tell him about the Knot of Isis.
*
“No, absolutely not.”Hart glowered at Lucy across the dim interior of his carriage. Since Trudy had gone on to play cards at Lady Fenwick’s house after the performance, he had agreed to escort Lucy home. Alone with him, Lucy had sprung her crazy idea on him.
“But I can help ask the right questions. And I’m very observant,” Lucy replied.
“I am not taking you to a gaming hell. Absolutely not.” He crossed his arms and then winced as his shoulder throbbed painfully.
Lucy pouted, her full bottom lip pushed out, enticing him to lean forward and nip it with his teeth. She was a far too tempting package, more than she realized. Not for a million pounds would he take her into a hell filled with drunken men.
Her eyes narrowed. “You should go home and have your valet wrap that shoulder in hot towels, then give it a massage.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my shoulder.”
“Pffft.It has been bothering you all evening. Don’t deny it. I told you I am very observant.”
He sighed. Observant? Trouble was what she was. “It gets stiff easily when I am in one position too long. It will work itself out eventually.”
“Martyr,” she muttered. “I have some salve specially made for Trudy’s rheumatism. It works wonders when massaged into stiff joints.”
“Great, now I am in the same league as old ladies. Perfect.”
Lucy stifled a giggle behind her hand. The carriage pulled to a stop in front of Trudy’s house. “Why don’t you come in for a moment, and I will fetch you a jar. It smells divine, not like old ladies. I promise.”
He reluctantly nodded; he didn’t want to make her cross with him again. He didn’t have to actually use the stuff. They exited the carriage. “Thomas, wait for me here. I won’t be long.”
The front door opened as they ascended the steps to the townhome. Lucy gave the butler a smile as they entered the house.
She handed him her wrap. “Thank you, Harris. Lady Weatherby will be home later. She is playing cards with her friends.”
