Lady Danbury drew back toward the ballroom, Fanny in tow. Eli didn’t move.
The marchioness sighed wearily and murmured, “If you wish a word with the earl, perhaps you might do so outside my garden?”
Eli heard her meaning.Don’t be overheard or cause a scandal.
Trailing after the earl through the dark garden, Eli weighed the satisfaction of knocking the earl down with a simple warning to stay away. The warning had fewer complications but would be significantly less satisfying. Still, attacking a peer could have ugly results. The decision made itself; he did neither. The sounds of voices distracted him.
“What were you doing in the garden?” Grimsley’s words vibrated with anger.
“Seeing whether you ignored my orders.”Bateson?Eli rather thought it was, but how was it the associate would be giving orders to the earl? Eli inched forward to the gate, standing in the shadow of the garden wall to the right of it. From that angle, he could see them. A street lamp illuminated Grimsley and his companion, a taller man. Bateson for certain. A carriage waited to the rear of both men.
“I don’t take orders,” Grimsley snarled.
“Oh, I rather think you do. The consequences to you of doing otherwise would be dire. She eluded me in Manchester, and it was only by the greatest stroke of luck she turned up in London. You have no idea how valuable she is.”
“Because of her bedamned hair? Red signals an ill-tempered, soulless—”
Bateson’s vile laugh churned Eli’s stomach. “Don’t tell my customer that. Did I tell you the potentate met the Duchess of Glenmoor? Met and wanted? When the dog found out I had the duchess’s sister, my price spiked. He wants her untouched, you fool. My orders were for you to get me a close look at the chit and perhaps frighten her a bit to keep her uneasy but leave her unmolested.” Bateson’s cold voice, clear in the night, horrified Eli.
“She’ll flee back to Ashly or Ashmore or whatever godforsaken backwater she wants soon enough,” Grimsley whined. “I just wanted a bit before she did. Now the Danbury witch ordered me to rusticate. Can you believe that?”
“The marchioness is smarter than you are, Grimsley. Do it,” Bateson said.
“I damn well—” Grimsley’s words stopped on a gurgle. From his vantage point, Eli leaned forward, trying to make out what happened in the shadows. Bateson’s silhouette merged briefly with Grimsley’s shape. Grimsley staggered back, gagging and choking.
“You know what I’m capable of, Grimsley. If you value your inheritance, your sister, and your manhood, I suggest you do as you’re told.” Bateson turned on his heels and strode away.
Grimsley lurched to the carriage and clambered in. Eli sank back against the wall, breath heaving.
What the hell was that about?He needed to talk to his brother—almost as much as he needed to see Fanny.
*
Dazed and distracted,Fanny smiled on cue as the Marchioness of Danbury swept her through the sea of guests, referred to her as “our Miss Hancock,” and led her into the nearly deserted green drawing room, where two ladies’ chatted on a settee and another couple spoke softly by the far wall. The lady drew her up in front of a painting.
Fanny stared at a sweeping panoramic view of a valley, an ancient manor house in the far distance, the sky a roiling mass of dark clouds. She saw little else in the work, absorbing instead its air of doom, a mood too close to her own at that moment for comfort.
“A grim view of the family pile, I know,” the marchioness said. “But I rather like the drama. Our Mister Turner is never one for the sweet and pretty.” She tilted her head to Fanny and whispered, “Simply look thoughtful. You’ll feel better momentarily.”
Fanny swallowed convulsively and did as the lady suggested, forcing her gaze to the painting while her thoughts ran to Eli. She might have thrown herself into his arms when he’d appeared at her side, staring down Grimsley, if the vile earl hadn’t held her arm is such a tight grip. She’d longed to when the villain had walked away, but the marchioness had more concern for Fanny’s reputation and her own. Fanny owed her a debt of gratitude—one she might give words to if only she could speak.
“Breathe,” the marchioness murmured.
She did. It helped. Where is Eli? Has he gone to confront Grimsley? He’s not a man prepared for violence. Her heart stuttered at the thought of what might happen to him. She choked back tears. The shock of that brought her to her senses.
You are made of sterner stuff, Fanny Hancock, and Eli Benson is no fool.She inhaled deeply.
“Good girl,” the marchioness murmured. “Better? Shall I take you to Lady Benson?”
Fanny nodded. “Thank you, my lady. I can’t begin to express my gratitude.”
“Nonsense. I enjoy showing off my paintings.” The lady patted her hand and winked. “Ah, here is our Sir Robert, come to find his sister.”
Rob’s piercing inspection of her person told Fanny he’d heard what had happened. She hoped it was Eli who’d spoken with him, not one of the other guests. He pulled his expression under control and smiled at the marchioness. He took Fanny’s hand and placed it on his arm.
“Your soiree has been a joy as always, Lady Danbury. My family appreciates your hospitality more than I can say,” he said.
“You enrich the assemblage every time you gift us with your presence,” the marchioness replied. “Are you leaving us? The hour is not yet so terribly late.”
