Lady Emma remained perfectly composed, her head high, but she couldn’t disguise the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “Forgive me, my lord, but I must go and check on my grandmother now. It was kind of you to call on methis morning.”
With that, she was gone. Her retreat was so graceful, Samuel wasn’t certain if it was a retreat at all, and he couldn’t help but notice he was once again left speechless, breathless, staring at her back as she disappeared.
* * * *
This was a disaster, a nightmare.
Emma hurried down the corridor, ducked into a small closet, closed the door behind her, and fell back against it, her heart thundering in her chest.
A nightmare, yes, but not the nightmare she’d thought it was. Lord Lymington didn’t seem to know anything about her past at the Pink Pearl, as she’d feared. That was a stroke of good fortune she hadn’tdared hope for.
No, this was a different nightmare altogether.
He’d been lurking in the shadows the night she’d met Helena in Madame Marchand’s library. He knew all about her conversation with Letty. Worse, he’d heard them mention Caroline’s name.
Lady Clifford had warned Emma not to go near the Pink Pearl, but she’d gone anyway, and now she’d made a dreadful mess of things. This after she’d taken such care not to attract any notice so she might appear in London as Lady Crosby’sgranddaughter.
She hadn’t seen her friends inweeks. Why, it had been so long she could hardly recall the faces of Sophia, Cecilia,and Georgiana.
Now, because of one tiny misstep, all her efforts lay in ruins.
Good Lord, but Lord Lymingtonwas a sly one.
Why, ohwhy, had he been at the Pink Pearl that night? If hehadto be there, why couldn’t he have spent his evening chasing courtesans in the usual way, rather than sneaking off to a cold library to sit there in the dark, alone? What sort of gentleman went to a brothel toread?
Now he knew everything, had heard everything—
No. Not everything. He didn’t know who she really was, and that meant there was still hope, some chance to salvage this. It would simply require a different approach, that was all.
Emma closed her eyes and tried to think, but they popped back open again at once, a shaky breath on her lips. Those penetrating gray eyes of his saweverything. If she blinked, Lord Lymington’s gaze darted to her eyes. If she smiled, he focusedon her mouth.
He saw it all, assessed it, and drew his conclusions, all without givingaway a thing.
God in heaven. Of all the gentlemen who might have been lurking in the library, why did it have to behim? He was the last man in the world she wanted knowing her secrets.
Presumptuous, infuriating marquess.
Clever, too. Don’t forget clever, Emma.
Yes, he was clever, damn him. Downright diabolical, even, creeping about the Pink Pearl as he’d done. That sneakiness made him dangerous, and that was to say nothing of those enormous hands, that slow, predatory smile.
Couldn’t any of the other dozens of brothels in London have done for Lord Lymington that night? Of all the choices he had at his fingertips, why did he have to choosethe Pink Pearl?
But she already knew the answer. Because he hadn’t gone there to dally with a courtesan. Why should he? There must be dozens of ladies in London willing to warmhisbed. It was no coincidence he’d ended up at the Pink Pearl rather than someother brothel.
No, Lord Lymington had gone to the Pink Pearl that night to find Caroline Francis.
His interest in her might be perfectly innocent, of course. He might have found out she was there, and gone on Lady Lymington’s behalf to enquire into Caroline’s well-being, or to offer to restore her to her place as a housemaid, all hersins forgiven.
But in Emma’s experience, few things were perfect, even fewer of them innocent, and forgiveness was as elusive as a virgin courtesan. No, it was far more likely Lord Lymington had gone to find out just how many of his family’s ugly secretsCaroline knew.
Ugly, potentiallydeadly secrets.
That he’d gone there to uncover them, or…
Or bury them.Bury them so deeply they’d never again see thelight of day.
And now Emma had exposed Helena to him with her carelessness, and there was no telling what he’d do, or how far he’d go to getwhat he wanted.
