Amelia recognised an interrogation when she heard one.
“Also,” Lady Kemble continued, “there were reports of an unseemly rumpus–”
The front door closed, a deep voice rumbled and Amelia launched to her feet. She’d been trained to withstand questioning under duress, but Lady Kemble and her quizzing glass were a test of any spy’s button-lipped resolve.
“Mr Cadwalader’s home,” she said brightly. “I should go and…educate my charge. With a book and–”
“Sit.”
Amelia sat.
Silence stretched, like that before a summer storm, until the drawing room door swung open and Hugh strode in, handsome in a blue jacket and cream buckskins.
Scowling at her ugly grey governess skirts, Amelia rose and bobbed a curtsey.
Their eyes met and his lids hooded, lips twisting to downright sensual. Amelia’s breath caught before she cleared her throat and nudged her gaze towards his aunt on the far chair.
His head swerved as though struck by a fist, “Ah, my favourite aunt!”
Lady Kemble tutted. “Youronlyaunt.”
“What brings you here so early this fine morn?” He hastened over to buss her cheek. “And dressed in the splendour of an aubergine from paradise.”
“Pshaw! You devilish scoundrel.” She patted her purple skirts as he turned back. “I want words with you.”
Amelia rose. “I should…”
“Sit!”
Amelia sat.
“Concerning?” And flipping his coat-tails, Hugh seated himself beside her on the sofa.
Lady Kemble narrowed her eyes. “Letty Harcourt.”
“Do I know her?”
“Lady Twyford to you, young man. I wish to know why you have been inquiring about her atThe Berkeley Square Ladies’ Benevolent Fundtea and crumpet meeting? And why I found her in tears when I went to call this morn while Phoebe was at breakfast?”
Amelia gulped but Hugh merely leaned back into the sofa and laid his arm behind her, fingers brushing beneath her shoulder.
“How do you know Lady Twyford, Aunt?”
She pursed her lips. “We had our first Season together and along with some others were… Well, you would not imagine it now, but…” Her lashes fluttered. “We were known as the Dashing Debutantes.”
“I certainly could imagine it, my dear Aunt, but I don’t recall you ever mentioning her?”
“No. I do not speak of Letty, for a reason. And in any case, she mostly keeps to the countryside so I hardly ever see her. However, when she is in London, we meet for breakfast once in a while. And this morn, she tells me thatyou…” A purple-gloved finger was thrust at Hugh. “Have been asking questions about her. And furthermore, that she was accosted last night at the theatre by a woman that you had escorted there.” The finger stabbed to Amelia. “A blond woman with amber eyes.”
Hugh sat forward, hands clasped, hesitated… “Lady Twyford was suspected of deeds that have caused great harm to others, Aunt.”
“Breadcrumbs and fishhooks, what twaddle!Sheis the one being harmed.”
A furrow rutted Hugh’s brow.
“Blackmail,” Amelia murmured. “The lady is being blackmailed for money.”
“Precisely! Honestly, do keep up, Hugh.” Lady Kemble folded her arms, purple fingers tapping. “And I presume you, younglady, are no governess at all, but some…colleague of Hugh’s?” That haughty eyebrow rose once more.
