All of the men in the room seemed transfixed and struck dumb by the entrance of another strong woman into the room.
Lady Camilla broke the silence and moved her assault to the seat next to Derek on the rigid settee. She swept her arm around the room, encompassing the men therein. "You lot are utterly useless. Have none of you ever seen a pregnant woman before?" She paused, as if suddenly realizing with whom she was dealing. "Never mind. What was I thinking? You reprobates are perhaps responsible for more pregnancies in England than all the royal princes put together."
As one, the three men made as if to protest, only to stop at the glares from Honoria and Camilla. Sythe had the good grace to duck his flushed face from view, considering how his most recent runaway lust had turned out for the woman he loved.
September 5,1826
Somewhere along the Strand
Obadiah fell in step with the agitated click of Adrienne's heels on the cobblestones along the Strand on the way back to Grosvenor Street.
"Why are you following me?"
"It's my job now."
She slowed and then stopped, gazing into his eyes as if seeking the truth. "What do mean, it's your job?"
"It's my job to make sure you stay alive until we find out who these ruffians are who've threatened to hurt you to extort money from the earl."
She poked a slender finger against his solid chest. "What aren't you telling me? If every aristocrat who kept a mistress was the target of blackmailers, Bow Street would run out of investigators."
"All right, so there may be more to their threats than I first told you."
Her eyes widened, and she placed her hands on her hips. "Obadiah Lassen, you'd better tell me everything you know about these blackmailers. Now."
"What do you want to know?"
"Everything, you big, lying hulk."
"This blackmailer claims one of you is a murderess." He paused, uncertainty in his eyes. "It isn't you, is it?"
Her mouth dropped open and she turned on her heel, walking quickly away from him and the comforts of Mayfair, back toward the bowels of the city.
Although Obadiah was taller, not to mention stronger, he'd never been able to best Adrienne in a foot race, even when they'd been children on Martinique.
Weighed down with fripperies, full skirts, and the huge, silk flower-and-fruit-embellished hat she wore, Adrienne nonetheless flew off down the street, disappearing into a sidealley toward the mews. By the time he'd rounded the corner she'd disappeared, like a fragile wraith in the evening shadows.
Obadiah threw his walking cane in a fit of anger only to have his favorite concealed weapon break in two after bouncing off a street lamp. By the gods, that woman could make him angry like no other. He tried not to examine too closely what that meant. He picked up the pieces of his cane and his heart before slowly heading back toward Grosvenor Street.
Adrienne Godet was like no other woman he'd ever known. She was more than able to take care of herself on the dangerous streets of London, but he hated that it wouldn't be him watching over her all the while. He wasn't truly worried, though. She'd be back. The skills they'd learned together in the alleyways of Martinique as well as the bonds of love that had been born there meant she'd always come back to him.
5 September,1826
St. James Square Townhouse
Lady Camilla's Drawing Room
Lady Camilla suddenly snapped her fingers again. She glared at Derek next to her on the settee. "Why don't you get rid of all of your mistresses and marry? You can afford to set them up handsomely in their own establishments..." She stopped, lost in thought and then immediately continued. "Their own establishments...far from your current harem on Grosvenor Street."
She smiled inwardly at the crimson flush that started at Framlingwood's already receding hairline down into the neatly tied cravat at his neck.
He rallied, however, and fired back. "My relationships with these beautiful women are nothing like the tawdry situation you paint."
At that pronouncement, Honoria smiled openly, like an aggressive tomcat who's finally cornered a terrified mouse in a corner of the pantry. "Well then, Framlingwood, you appear to be at Aunt Camilla's mercy to go along with whatever alternativeshedecides is necessary."
He paled and looked to Sythe and Col to save him. His so-called friend Sythe steadied his gaze on the carpet as if there were a spill he needed to call to the attention of Raines. Col splayed his hands out in front of him as if were counting his freckled blemishes.
In spite of her steely reserve, Camilla couldn't resist a full-throated chuckle at his plight. "Lord Framlingwood, since you have gotten yourself into this deadly kerfuffle, the solution and cure to the situation has to come from you."
