Chapter 23
Anthony braced his arm against the coach window and rubbed his temple.
Kill the man. He was going to kill Braxton.
He had multitudinous questions for his superior, not the least of which was “Why in blazes are you here?” Braxton had upended Anthony’s life, had him following bread-crumb clues all over the globe, and now decided to swoop in like a hawk and muck around in the work Anthony had worked so hard to do? At his insistence!
It was bad enough that Anthony had begun sleeping with one eye open, fearful that whoever had the Janus Document had had time to start deciphering the code.
Anthony’s information, his friends’ information—everything was listed, according to Braxton.
Why the murderer hadn’t come forward with a blackmail threat made no sense, unless the code was still intact, of course.
But why threaten Sophia with Charlie’s broken toy?
Why lure Charlie away from home to his potential death?
Why not deal directly with Anthony, or Pilkington, even, who both had money and influence?
Why did the perpetrator’s actions seem to focus only on covering up Miller’s murder rather than on the larger issue of the document?
And by all that was holy, if Braxton did not stop leering at Sophia, Anthony was prepared to put his fist in the man’s throat.
Sophia, bless her, had eyed Braxton with thinly veiled mistrust from the moment she had joined them in the foyer.
Once again, her instincts were spot-on. As a woman who had been propositioned and harassed by Braxton’s type in the past, she likely recognized a Lothario when she saw one.
Even now, Braxton had extended his leg in the cab of the spacious coach and inched it closer to Sophia’s skirts.
She was looking at Dylan, but she subtly gathered the fabric of her dress and tucked it beneath her legs.
He was torn between pride in her ability to keep herself free from men of Braxton’s ilk, and fury that a man of Braxton’s ilk would take liberties with a woman if left unchecked.
The coach came to a stop, and he stepped out, taking a deep breath.
He told himself to pull it together, that none of them could afford mistakes.
He would act as he had since his arrival in Bombay.
He was on extended holiday, and he happened to meet up with his friends after a protracted separation, and as a group they were attempting to help Major Stuart with his investigation into the mysterious disappearance of a merchant seaman.
Until someone came forward either publically or privately to expose his connection with the War Department, he would not acknowledge it, and Sophia, Rachael, and Dylan would remain the only people who knew.
Braxton stepped from the carriage and eyed Anthony warily. And well he should. They had not had a moment to chat alone since Braxton’s unannounced arrival at the mansion.
“What a surprise to see you here,” Anthony said quietly. “On orders to work with the Bombay Presidency. And now investigating the death of a sea captain.”
Braxton brushed a hand down his sleeve and straightened his suit coat. He looked at Anthony evenly. “You’ve been away for some time. I thought you might appreciate support.”
Anthony bit back a quick retort and turned instead to help Sophia down from the coach.
“How wonderful to reacquaint yourself with friends from home, Wilshire.” Braxton smiled at Sophia as she moved a few steps away. “You must have been delighted when Miss Elliot arrived.”
“Implying something, Braxton?” he murmured.
“Wondering if you’ve kept your focus.”
“Have not wavered.”
Braxton glanced at Sophia, his eyes flicking from her face to her bodice, and back to Anthony. “I wonder.”
Anthony narrowed his eyes, his temper close to boiling over at the man’s crude insolence. “We should speak. Later.”
Braxton turned as the next carriage rolled to a stop and settled his smile back into place.
“Well, bless me, if it isn’t Lady Seadon!
And the young Lady Seadon, and Miss Vale!
” He left Anthony and Sophia without word or gesture, which was the height of rudeness, especially to Sophia.
He helped Lady Seadon, the mother, from the carriage and bestowed his blinding smile upon her as she stammered and fussed about what a pleasure it was to meet him.
“He is . . . oily.”
Anthony looked down at Sophia’s pronouncement.
She had returned to his side and observed the show with an impassive expression, her shoulders straight, her gloved hands lightly clasped at her waist, her hair shining like silk in the bright moonlight, her jaw curving gracefully into the elegant line of her neck.
Her bearing was impeccable, her sense of self firmly fixed.
She was more of a lady, had always been, than most of the women he knew.
“I love you.” He whispered it, but she still turned to him abruptly with wide eyes. She flicked them wider in surprise, as if asking if he were sane.
He smiled. “I do. You are glorious, and I love you.”
“There you are.” Rachael marched over to them and grasped Sophia’s hand. “Sophia, you simply must look at the hors d’oeuvres spread. Were you aware that Lady Pilkington had everything set up beforehand? I vow, she is incredibly organized. We must ask her . . .”
Sophia glanced back at him, and as he stood in profile to Braxton and the Seadons on his right, he winked at her with his left eye. It was dark; he wasn’t certain she saw it. But she smiled.
He moved to join the others at the center of the ruins but was, regrettably, too slow.
A hand threaded around his arm, and he looked down to see Lady Lissa Seadon attached to him like a barnacle.
His smile was tight; she had to know he didn’t care for her, had been all but rude in the past, but she was tenacious. Desperate, perhaps, given her mother.
“Lady Seadon.”
“Lord Wilshire.” She smiled up at him, and he was again struck by the fact that, beautiful as she was, he hadn’t a spark of interest. “I have been waiting interminably for an opportunity to chat with you. Miss Elliot quite seems to occupy your time.”
“I enjoy Miss Elliot’s company.” He prayed Miss Elliot would not turn around and see them. He was only just beginning to earn her trust after she’d lived through two years of sordid rumors.
“But it is quite unfair of her to monopolize so much of you. She simply must share.” The perfect mouth curved in a perfect smile.
“Where have your travels led you these last many months, Lady Seadon?”
“Ah. Seeking to distract me, are you? Very well, I shall play along. We began on the Continent and traveled through Europe, the Mediterranean states, coastal China, now we find ourselves here.”
“And you plan to remain here indefinitely?”
“Do you return home soon? Do you hope to see me there?” She affected a very sympathetic face.
“We are here, mostly, in hopes of finding my dear cousin Adeline a husband. She’s had no luck at home, and is unlikely to.
” She glanced over her shoulder and pulled herself even closer to his arm.
“Her face and form have little to recommend them, you see, and she has no fortune. Papa will settle a small dowry on her, but only out of the goodness of his heart.”
What a woman could do to another with a few carefully placed words. He shook his head. “I’ve always found Miss Vale quite pretty, and she is delightful company. We partnered once at whist.”
“Oh, Wilshire, you are such a gallant.” She looked over her shoulder again and sniffed. “The poor dear.”
They reached the courtyard, and Lady Seadon could not have timed their entry through the flowering arch more perfectly—or more likely she had intended a show for Sophia from the beginning.
Sophia was chatting with the Misses Denney, and she looked up at Lady Seadon and then at him.
Anthony wished for a way to detach his arm from his shoulder.
The length of Lady Seadon’s body pressed against his side.
“I am certain a man with your bloodlines can appreciate a woman whose own are equally impeccable. We are well suited, you and I, Anthony. We are cut from the same cloth. No surprises, no unexpected complications. Marriages are much more efficient between parties who are well-versed in the realities of a ton union. Emotions are such an unnecessary entanglement.”
He smiled tightly and pried her hand from his arm. Very deliberately he separated himself from her and bowed lightly. “I leave you here, Lady Seadon. You’ll forgive me, but I must thank our hostess for this wonderful adventure.”
Her mouth curled. “Of course. I shall avail myself of Lord Braxton’s company.” She glanced again at Sophia. “Do remember, society is not tolerant of upstarts.”
He watched her turn and head back through the arch, angry and irritated and not trusting her for an instant.
She approached Braxton, who had her mother and cousin on either arm, and she nudged her cousin ever so slightly.
Adeline immediately released Braxton and Lissa replaced her.
Braxton laughed at something she said, and Anthony’s gut clenched.
Sophia’s description of Braxton also applied comfortably on the young Lady Seadon’s shoulders. Oily. It was appropriate.
Sophia watched Anthony watch Lissa Seadon. Surely, no. He could not possibly be interested in her. But he had turned to watch her walk away.
I cannot do this again.
The thought swam insidiously through her head, and a sense of panic started in her chest and threaded through her until her fingertips felt cool and she was light-headed.
He loves me. He only just told me he loves me. Please, please, please, I cannot do this again.
Anthony sought out Lady Pilkington, and with effort, Sophia pulled her attention back to Charity Denney.
“Miss Sophia, are you unwell?” Charity tilted her head. “You suddenly seem most peaked.”