Branford knew what honor demanded … A special license would solve a great many problems. Her family—he had in truth grown very fond of her aunt and brother—would have his protection and support. And to his surprise, the idea filled him with an elemental happiness, an emotion he never expected to feel again …
But he wasn’t even sure if Alex liked him. And she had made her thoughts about legshackling herself to a husband crystal clear …
Lud, what a coil.
And yet, in that instant, his mind was made up. As for convincing Alex …
Heaving a sigh, he rapped on the trap and ordered his coachman to head to White’s. Perhaps a late-night brandy would help quiet all his jumbled worries
With luck, things would seem clearer in the light of day
“Get hold of yourself,”snarled Hammerton.
Standish’s hands were still shaking though he had just downed his second brandy. “Bloody hell.” His voice betrayed a note of rising panic. “How the devil did Branford know of our plan?
“No doubt he followed the chit,” shot back Hammerton. “It’s a pity your aim is not as good as mine.”
Standish poured another glass from the decanter on the sidetable, sloshing some of it over the polished mahogany surface.
“Do you think she’s … dead?” he asked after taking a hurried gulp.
Hammerton shrugged, his lips curling into a mercenary smile. “Impossible to tell. But that would work out just as well.”
As he paused for thought, the smile grew more pronounced. “In fact, it might be even better. Branford would have a great deal to explain—a lone young lady, a deserted part of town, the sound of a gunshot.It would be easy enough to bribe some night watchman to say he had heard an argument and then a pistol go off. With luck, he would be tried for murder. Polite Society would believe it possible.”
“Why, that’s devilishly clever thinking on your part,” said Standish slowly. The spirits were finally beginning to take hold, and he relaxed enough to break into his own wolfish grin. “No doubt you are right.”
“Try not to forget that I always am, Arthur,” replied Hammerton. “You need trust me. Our plans will not be thwarted.” He took the glass from Standish’s hand and put it down on the table. “I think it’s time you return to your lodgings.”
“But I plan to go on to Madame Madeline’s brothel,” whined Standish.
“Not tonight, Arthur,” ordered Hammerton. “In your current state, your tongue would no doubt be flapping as wildly as the sheets. We can’t afford such a thing—is that clear? You will retire until you have rein on your emotions.”
Standish’s eyes flared, but he said no more.
They began to leave the private room of White’s when the sound of a familiar voice in the corridor caused Hammerton to grasp his cousin’s shoulder and pull him back.
“What did you say, Tibbons?” Branford drew to an abrupt halt just short of the half-closed door.
“Begging Your Lordship’s pardon, but your man Simms arrived ten minutes ago and was looking for you, sir. He said it was urgent. I put him in the library since he asked to wait,” answered the nervous porter. “Did I do right thing, sir?”
“Yes,” replied Branford. Without further word, he hurried to join his groom.
Simms turnedfrom the fire as the earl entered the library.
“Sorry, Cap’n, but I discovered some rather interesting news in East Anglia. I rushed back as fast as I could—and I hope it ain’t too late.”
The two of them put their heads together and spoke in low tones for a short while.
“I thought you should know, Cap’n, seeing as how the man’s on his deathbed. You were right?—”
“Excellent thinking, Simms,” interrupted Branford. “You can tell me all the details in the carriage ride north. Go tell Brown we will leave immediately.”
Simms nodded and rushed from the room.
Branford made to follow, then hesitated. After a moment of reflection, he strode over to the writing desk behind the settee and took up a pen and sheet of paper. He hesitated again, nib poised over the blank sheet, unsure of how to strike a tone that was neither too formal not too, too …
He drew in a harried breath. Time was of the essence—there wasn’t a moment to waste in trying to polish his words as nicely as he might wish—and so the earl quickly scribbled a few lines across the paper.
