“No, thank you, Lord Churton.” Althea sank down again. She took a deep breath. “I find myself in need of your help.”
“In what way may I be of assistance?”
“Do you know Sir Horace Crowthorne, by any chance?”
He paused in the act of lowering himself into the chair opposite, eyebrows raised. “I do. He’s a member of my club. A fellow who makes his mark on theton,does he not?”
Althea explained Sir Horace’s wish to buy Owltree, omitting the more distasteful aspects.
His blue eyes widened as he listened. “The deed to the property has been found to be genuine?”
“It is. My lord, my property is but ten acres. A watercourse runs through it. It would be so much simpler for Sir Horace to make improvements to the village road.”
“An odd business.” His shrewd eyes studied her. “I suspect there is more to it.”
Althea sighed. Churton was too canny. she would have to tell the whole story. “He uses it as a bargaining tool. He wishes me to become his mistress.”
Churton grunted. “Ah, now I see. He holds this threat over your head to sway you to agree to his baser desires. I feel I must apologize for my sex, Lady Brookwood. Men can behave very badly at times, especially where an attractive lady is involved. One who is unprotected.”
Althea tilted her head and smiled. “Not all men, my lord.”
He nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “What would you have me do?”
A flare of hope warmed her breast. “I doubt it is desire that prompted him to make such a demand. I hoped you might speak to him, to learn what he plans for Owltree Cottage.”
“Ah. I understand. That I am happy to do.” He sat back and crossed his arms. “It is an odd business, no doubt about it.”
“I would be most grateful, my lord.”
He rubbed his chin. “A letter won’t do. I’ll need to speak to Sir Horace in person. I’ll look for him at my club. The perfect place for a quiet word. I believe I saw him there a night or two ago. I hope to find him there sometime this week. Unfortunately, Lady Margery and I are to depart for the country on Saturday.”
He must have read the disappointment in her face, for he leaned forward and took both her hands in his. “How upset you must be, losing Brookwood and now this. I hope I can be of some help to you.”
The door opened and Lady Margery swept into the room. At the sight of her husband holding Althea’s hands, she froze and her brows snapped together. She bustled forward, patting her soft brown hair. “Lady Brookwood, how pleasant to see you,” she said in a cool tone.
Lord Churton rose smoothly and went to greet her. “You have finished buying out Regent Street, my dear?” He kissed her cheek. “Lady Brookwood has come to us with a problem.”
“Oh?” Lady Margery still frowned, unconvinced.
Althea gained her feet and executed a curtsey. “You must forgive me calling without an invitation, Lady Margery. An unforeseen circumstance has brought me low. I find I cannot manage to deal with it without assistance. I immediately thought of your husband, who is greatly respected and, as you know, a former associate of my husband. He has kindly promised to speak on my behalf.”
“Please do sit, Lady Brookwood. You appear quite rattled.” The wary expression remained in Lady Margery’s eyes, but she bustled forward. “Have you ordered tea, Churton?”
Not wishing to overstay her welcome, Althea shook her head. “Thank you, Lady Margery, but I shan’t trouble you a moment longer. Lord Churton, I’ll leave the matter in your hands with my heartfelt thanks. Whatever the outcome, I shall be eternally grateful for your assistance.”
“It appears you are in difficulty, my dear. I hope Churton can assist you.” Lady Margery’s sympathetic smile was most welcome. “Shall we see you at Lord and Lady Gossards’ soiree?”
“Yes, how very fortunate.” The fear of running into Sir Horace had quite put her off the idea of going, but the Churtons’ attending changed everything. How very nice they were. Lady Margery appeared to warm to her and, in time, might become a good friend.
If Churton dealt with Sir Horace before he appeared at the Gossard’s, she would enjoy witnessing his discomfiture when thetoncut him. A foolish dream, but one she clung to.
A little more confident, Althea walked the few streets from the Churton’s palatial home in Grosvenor Square to her modest townhouse. A cup of tea served in her boudoir made her feel considerably better. The respect in which Churton was held might work to ferret out Crowthorne’s intentions. Once she gained that knowledge, she could put it to good use. Sir Horace was not as well born as Churton, but at heart was a dreadful snob. She narrowed her eyes. How apposite to use blackmail against a blackmailer. He would not wish for any of his nefarious dealings to become known. Dare she hope this would be quickly solved, and she could return to live in peace?
Thinking it through, she was quite pleased that she had managed to deal with the situation herself, and would have no need to cast herself on Montsimon’s broad chest and beg his help. She only wished his gray eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes, didn’t appear in her mind’s eye.
Two days later, Althea attended the Gossard’s soiree. Guests crammed into the white and gold reception rooms of their palatial home while others went to the library to smoke. Unfortunately, as soon as Althea arrived, she encountered Sir Horace in the drawing room.
“I received your note, Lady Brookwood.” He stared hard at her. “I don’t intend to let this matter drag on unnecessarily.”
