“Lily’s mixed up with a bad lot, is she?” Dunn surprised Alaric by saying.
“Why do you say that?” Emma said quickly.
Dunn snorted. “I may be a playwright, but my head ain’t in the clouds. One day Lily is as poor as a church mouse and the next she’s swimming in blunt. She said it came from a windfall, some dead relative she never met, but I didn’t believe her.”
“Why not?”
“Because she was right jumpy, desperate even, to leave London immediately. As if she were running from trouble. Fool that I was, I let her convince me to go with her. Got the tickets, made the plans, and packed up everything to run off to Brighton with her,” Dunn said darkly.
Brighton.Alaric met Emma’s gaze and saw his own excitement reflected in her eyes. Finally, they’d picked up the maid’s lead.
“You went to Brighton with Lily?” Emma said eagerly.
Dunn shook his head. “Never made it that far. We weren’t halfway there when she met some rich cove travelling in our coach. Next thing I knew, she threw me over and ran off with that bounder.”
“How long ago was this?” Alaric demanded. “Do you know where they were headed?”
“It was nearly three weeks ago and, as far as I know, they were continuing on to Brighton. I came back here and was lucky that I could get my old job back. All I have left of Lily is this.” Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a miniature of the maid. “I carry it as a reminder of love’s cruelty.”
Emma exchanged looks with Alaric.
“We’re going to need that portrait, Mr. Dunn,” she said.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The next afternoon, Alaric leaned back in his chair, rolling a smooth crystal paperweight from hand to hand. Sun streamed through the tall windows, brightening his study and his already optimistic mood. The tides were finally turning in his favor. He and Emma had informed Kent of their discovery concerning Lily White; although displeased by his sister’s involvement, Kent had given his partner Mr. Lugo, a stalwart African gentleman, the portrait of Lily and tasked him with hunting down the actress.
Mr. Lugo was presently on the way to Brighton.
Progress was being made—on all fronts.
For, bit by bit, Alaric was also winning Emma over. Not only was their passion burning more fiercely with each encounter, he sensed her resistance to marriage was waning. And, despite his dominant tendencies, he had to admit that letting her take the lead at the theatre had deepened his admiration for her. With her intelligence and determination, she would make him an excellent duchess. Once the business of his murderer was settled, he’d claim her for good.
And now his present visitor had come bearing more good tidings.
“The situation with the investors has stabilized,” the Marquess of Tremont said, crossing his long legs. “It seems your scandal has already become last week’s news.”
“Gossip can’t beat out the lure of profit,” Alaric said.
“A few wags like Mercer continue to forecast doom for our venture, but they are in the minority. Thank God.” Tremont’s grey eyes were rueful. “I must confess I’m breathing easier now that our plans are once again secured. As you know, I’ve got a fair share of my personal holdings tied up in United Mining. I’m afraid I’m rather depending on it to go through.”
Quietly, Alaric said, “If you’re short on funds, I’d be happy to—”
“No, thank you,” Tremont said.
Knowing the other’s pride, Alaric did not pursue the subject further. “No matter,” he said instead. “In a fortnight, we’ll get the expansion vote passed at the General Meeting, and the value of shares will go through the roof. You’ll be a rich man.”
“That was the plan.” The lines around Tremont’s mouth eased. “Onto more important matters—how goes the search for the fiend who shot at you?”
“We’re making progress. It’s only a matter of time before we catch the bastard.”
“I am relieved to hear it, old chap. Murder puts a damper on one’s plans.” Tremont paused. “At least with our venture going smoothly, you can spend what’s left of the Season focusing on your wife hunt.”
Alaric put down the paperweight with studied nonchalance. “Indeed.”
Tremont, however, must have caught some betraying sign. “Egad, don’t tell me you’ve managed to find a duchess with all the mayhem that’s been going on?”
“Nothing’s settled yet,” he muttered.
