Havisham worked his jaw. “Indeed. She’s never asked for a large sum, which makes the situation easier for me. But I’m concerned. I can’t keep living with the constant threat of having my secret exposed.” He paced, shaking his head. “Bloody hell, I want it over.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your troubles,” Royston said. Although if Havisham didn’t tup every skirt he liked, he wouldn’t be in this situation. “But what do I have to do with this?”
Havisham pressed a few keys on the piano, trying to play something. Then he faced Royston. “I’d be grateful to you if you could recover the compromising material Mrs. Haywood possesses about our relationship.”
“What do you mean?” He tilted his head.
Havisham didn’t flinch. “You have a… past. You must know how to deal with a problem like mine.”
Royston’s pulse beat a war tempo in his ears. “I beg your pardon.”
“Now, now, Wharton. Before coming to my employment, you were a thief, a pugilist in an illegal ring, and a member of a gang. I’m not judging you. I’m simply saying that you have skills I desperately need.”
No, Royston couldn’t change his past, but he could decide what to do with his future, and resuming his life of crime, even for a short time, wasn’t what he wanted. He wasn’t proud of what he’d done, but not ashamed either. His past crimes had been a matter of survival, not greed.
“I won’t do it, Havisham. I have no intention of using my former criminal skills to steal from a lady.”
“Lady? What lady? Mrs. Haywood is a blackmailer.”
Royston lifted a shoulder. “And you’re an adulterer.”
For a moment, he thought Havisham was going to punch him. But since the lord knew Royston’s past so well, he shouldbe aware that Royston was a good boxer and would dodge the punch easily.
“I’ll help you so that you won’t need to break into her house,” Havisham said. “I’ll think of something, an invitation perhaps. I’ll make sure she organises a party in her house and that you’re invited. No breaking and entering.”
“No.”
“I will pay you any sum,” the earl insisted.
If there was one thing he didn’t need, it was money. “I can’t do it. I don’t want to be involved in this.”
“Mrs. Haywood will be here tonight. You might want to talk to her and see for yourself that she’s a disgraceful woman. You’re good at understanding people.”
Royston ignored the quick flutter in his chest at the possibility of meeting Miss Haywood again. “I gave you my answer.”
Havisham came closer. “I can make a conspicuous investment in your steel factory. I heard you often employ people with a troubled past to help them. I’ll be more than happy to finance your charitable enterprise.”
Seriously? Then why hadn’t the earl done that before?
He opened his mouth to say, ‘no’ again, but Havisham cut him off.
“Listen, don’t answer now.” Havisham opened the door. “Please think about it. You’d do a great service to society by fighting against that blackmailer. She has ruined more than one life.”
Royston clenched his fists when he was alone. Sod Havisham. He was an adult who could solve his own problems, and Royston was free to make his own choices.
He sat at the piano and started to play.
Angeline’s mother was right.Mr. North was a handsome man, no doubt about that. With his straight, bouncy strawberry-blond hair and pale green eyes, he looked like an angel jumped out of an oil painting. If only he would keep his mouth shut.
His good looks didn’t change the fact she had no intention of talking to him. She wouldn’t sell her body to a stranger, and drugging the man was plain wrong.
“Miss Haywood, you’re a vision.” Mr. North took her hand and kissed it, showing a lopsided smile that caused his face to lose some of its beauty.
Angeline withdrew her hand, gazing around the busy ballroom. If he knew what was underneath the glove, he’d be horrified. “Thank you, sir.”
Lady Redvers was a viscountess, and some of her guests were high-ranking nobles. Who knew how many of those so-called gentlemen had been or currently were Mama’s lovers or victims?
“Miss Haywood?” Mr. North dipped his head, filling her field of vision. He let out one of his high-pitched, convulsive laughs that made her fear he might collapse with a fit. “For a moment, I had the impression you weren’t listening to a single word I said.”
