Chapter 7
Seven
“Hell and Damnation, my friend. Forgive my strong language but it is deucedly difficult trying to help you if you will not tell me all the facts! I implore you to take me into your confidences—surely I have shown that I may trusted. I feel I am close to making an important discovery that will greatly aid your endeavor, but I must know more in order to proceed.”
Ha! thought Augusta with a twitch of her lips.
If Tinder considered those rather tame words worthy of apology he had obviously never come in contact with the Earl of Dunham!
Then the expression of wry humor faded as she considered his request. It was a ticklish dilemma.
On one hand, he had certainly proven both his loyalty and his practical skills by tracking down the vital information she had needed.
On the other, she still feared exposing him to danger.
It was all very well for a tall, lean, powerfully built gentleman like Dunham to suffer a few cuts and bruises, but in all likelihood her friend was not cut from the same cloth as the earl.
Few men were.
Another faint smile, this one more wistful than amused, flitted across her features as she recalled the feel of those broad, muscled shoulders against her bare arms. The heat from those chiseled planes had seared her, even through the layers of his linen and wool.
She could even recall the exact shade of his eyes—a blue the color of the sky at twilight—and every intriguing curve of those sculpted lips, fascinating to look at even when they were busy mouthing some unflattering comment at her.
She squirmed in her chair. Really, the nerve of the man, to imply that she was any more at fault than he was for the injuries he had suffered in their earlier encounters. At least he had admitted she could not possibly be blamed for the latest assault on his person.
That gave her pause for thought. But who was responsible?
Despite her comment to the contrary, she, too, doubted any affair of the heart—or other anatomical part—had prompted an attempt on the earl’s life.
And there was no doubt that the stone had been launched with lethal intent. The question was why.
A sharp rap at the door of her study interrupted her train of thought. She pulled a face, then quickly tucked the letter into her desk, realizing with a start that she was still undecided as to how to answer it.
“Augusta!” Her mother came in without waiting for a reply to her knock. “You have a caller. A gentleman caller.”
Augusta’s face took on a guarded expression.
“Lord Dunham wonders if he might be allowed to take you for a drive in the park.”
“I’m busy. Tell him to come back some other time.”
Her mother’s mouth began to work, but it was several moments before any words came out.
“Perhaps you did not hear me correctly. I said, the Earl of Dunham wants to take you up with him in his high perch phaeton and join the rest of the ton in promenading in the park. Surely you would not be so willful as to refuse such an honor and blight your dear sister’s chance of making a splendid match this Season? ”
Augusta was not quite sure she followed her parent’s logic, but decided arguing was useless. Neither her mother nor the earl would shrink at using physical force, if need be. With a weary sigh, she straightened the papers on her desk and rose.
“Oh, very well.”
Lady Farnum looked down her nose at the simple slate grey muslin day dress that her daughter had chosen to work in, its unadorned long sleeves now bearing several smudges of ink at the cuffs, and gave a slight shudder.
“Pray, go upstairs and change. And make it quick. You do not want to keep His Lordship waiting.”
Oh, yes. She did. However, a short time later she appeared in the drawing room, attired more properly, if not fashionably, for the outing.
Marcus rose. “How gracious of you to accept my invitation, Lady Augusta,” he said smoothly, on noting the jut of her jaw.
Augusta bit back a retort on seeing the look on her mother’s face. “How kind of you to offer, milord,” she replied through gritted teeth.
There was a flash of amusement in his eyes as he offered her his arm.
She had no choice but to take it. They proceeded in silence out of the townhouse to where the earl’s small tiger was struggling manfully to keep the spirited team of matched grays in check.
Once settled in the driver’s seat, Marcus gave them their head and the phaeton sprung forward at a good clip.
Augusta made a point of not meeting his gaze, though from out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help but notice the discreet patch of sticking plaster peeking out from under the thick raven locks curling over his brow.
It prompted her to finally speak up. “I should have thought you would have stayed home in bed today, sir, after what happened last night.”
“Ah, well, since it was empty, save for myself, there seemed little reason to do so.”
There was an audible intake of breath. “Are we going to have another pointless conversation where we end up hurling insults at one another?” she demanded.
Marcus guided the high-strung team through the entrance to the park with consummate skill. “I should hope not, Lady Augusta, for we have far more important things to discuss.”
She didn’t answer.
The earl drove on through the normal crush to a less crowded path before slowing the horses to a sedate walk. “As I was saying, before we were so rudely interrupted last night,” he continued, “I think it might make sense for us to be forthright with each other.”
“I am willing to listen to your explanation, milord.”
He muttered something under his breath.
“What was that? I am always interested in expanding my vocabulary.”
“I think it is stretched quite far enough as it is,” he growled. His hands tightened on the reins. “Dash it all, you are truly the most stubborn, willful, provoking chit I have ever encountered—”
“I thought we were not going to indulge in such childish fits of pique, sir.”
His jaw clamped shut.
“Like you, I prefer to stop shilly-shallying and get to the point,” she went on. “Are you going to tell me what you were up to in that study? If not, then let us not waste each other’s time and drive me home at once.”
For a moment she thought he was going to urge his team into a dead gallop. Instead, a reluctant smile toyed on his lips. “I have to admit it is rather refreshing to be around a female who is not coy about what she wants.”
“Lord Dunham, I am not the least interested in your preferences regarding a lady’s deportment!”
“That’s quite obvious.” His hand came up before she could snap out another retort. “Very well, very well. I don’t suppose I have any other choice. Er, do I?”
A scowl was her only answer.
“I thought not.” He cleared his throat. “Recently, I have come to suspect that a certain gentleman is involved in some very unsavory doings. I was attempting to, er, verify my suspicions when you appeared and caused things to go awry.”
“Me! You were the one clumsy enough to fall and cause such a racket as to raise the dead—” She stopped in mid-sentence. “Wait—how did you come to be suspicious of the gentleman in the first place?”
“That’s not important. What matters right now is what you were doing there. I’ve been forthcoming, Lady Augusta. Will you be the same?”
Augusta stared down at her lap where her hands were balled together into a tight fist. After a considerable silence, she let out a sigh. “I am looking into a … crime committed against one of our tenants at home.” That was close enough to the truth, she decided, without revealing the whole.
“A crime? Why haven’t you simply gone to the authorities?”
“Because the authorities don’t give a fig for a lowly tenant, in case you haven’t noticed! But then again, you’ve probably been too busy with other pursuits to have a care for how those less fortunate live.”
He flushed slightly, but didn’t respond to her harsh words. Instead he asked quietly, “Can’t you voice your concerns to … some male member of your family?”
“My father is away indefinitely in Vienna and my brother is dead!” She sought to control the tremor in her voice. “I’m the only one who can help.”
Marcus was silent for a moment. “Did you learn anything definite from the papers you took?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “There are certain accountings which look rather incriminating to me, but the way they are written, it would be hard to say they are conclusive evidence.”
“Would you let me have a look at them?”
She hesitated.
His jaw tightened. “I see,” he said with some asperity as he made ready to turn the phaeton around. “It seems that in addition to being stubborn, willful and provoking, you are also opinionated, unbending and unwilling to accept that you may be wrong about anything. Come, I will take you home.”
Augusta reached out to stay the reins. “Lord Dunham, why is it you are taking an interest in all of this? Why are you offering to help me?”
“Why ask? You do not wish to hear aught but what may reinforce your own smug assumptions.”
She was startled to hear the raw edge in his voice, as if she had scraped some vulnerable spot. “I … that is, if I have truly been so blind and stupid, then I deserve your scorn, sir.”
His head jerked around in some surprise.