Chapter 2 #3
“And he is. Ruthless to the core. But he has principles.”
“Forgive me if I fail to see them.”
Lady Soanes glanced at the scrap of paper in Daphne’s hand. “You have the proof of it there. May I see the note Hawke left?”
“Of course. That’s why I came.” She handed Lady Soanes the letter, written in the intimate tone of a lover.
The lady read it, glanced up and arched a brow. “Angel?”
“That’s what Mr Hawke called me when we danced. And mouse. Though I imagine he thinks me a tiger after the way I pounced.”
Lady Soanes laughed, her green eyes bright with wicked delight. “What an interesting creature you are, Miss Harland.”
“I’m glad you think so, my lady.”
Interesting was better than useless or ungrateful.
“Yes, you’re wasted on the men of the ton.”
It was said Lady Soanes had once ruled the ton without a title or a husband. If anyone could teach her how to wield ruin as a weapon, it was her.
Scandal or no, she had no intention of marrying.
“My options are rather limited.” She hated how calmly she could say it now. “The wax had scarcely cooled on the note when Lord Templeton made me a scandalous offer.”
Lady Soanes muttered something decidedly unladylike under her breath. “I trust you refused him. The man hasn’t a shred of decency. Does Hawke know?”
Why would he care?
“No, I doubt he’d be surprised. He’s at Mivart’s tonight, expecting a visit from my father’s second.” Another mistake. Her father was the king of cowards. “But he’s averse to violence when the odds aren’t favourable. He decided to visit Mr Irving instead.”
“And now you’re in a dreadful predicament.”
The statement hung in the air like the threat of checkmate.
Lady Soanes refilled their glasses, her brow knitting as though she were contemplating which move on the board might save the queen.
“Angel,” the lady muttered. “Who’d have thought it?”
“Maybe he meant to soften the blow.”
Lady Soanes smiled. “Yet I’ve never known him let his guard slip. I can understand why he wrote the endearment, a clever ploy to cement his position. But not why he’d bother to flatter you.”
Was it flattery, or merely mockery?
“Who can say what he intended?” Other than to make a spectacle of her to satisfy his own devious ends.
“Who indeed?” Lady Soanes studied her as one might an odd curiosity. “Of course, he expects me to take you under my wing. Teach you the art of making men fall over themselves despite never knowing the pleasure of having you.”
Daphne imagined all eyes on her as she entered the ballroom. Fake smiles, empty compliments, and men waiting for the chance to catch her alone in a dark corner.
She shivered as though someone had walked over her grave. “My father may be a coward when it comes to his peers, but not so with his kin. Mr Hawke is wrong if he believes I can avoid capture. I expect my father is already sourcing a ticket to India.”
“You possess the qualities to succeed, Miss Harland.”
“Yet I’d prefer a simple life in the country.”
“Without funds, how would you survive?”
“I’d have to work, my lady.” Twelve hours of toil was preferable to twenty-four with Mr Irving. “And pray my father never finds me.”
The lady’s gaze roamed over Daphne’s figure. “There is somewhere you might put your talents to good use. Somewhere your father would never reach you.”
Daphne’s heart skipped a beat. “The Americas?”
“No,” the lady said, grinning. “Shadowmere.”
Shadowmere.
An image of Mr Hawke crashed into her mind, sending her heart pounding. He was formidable when calling her angel. How would he react when she invaded his territory? “He’d never permit me over the threshold.”
“He’s not there. He’s at Mivart’s. I could write you a note. My coachman will take you directly.”
A pang of trepidation hit her squarely in the chest. “It’s a house of ill repute. Tales of the wicked—”
“It’s Hawke’s home. He merely hires out part of the house on weekends. Don’t believe all the gossip. Judge for yourself. Stay for a month. If you decide to leave after that, I shall find you a safe place to live.”
She fell silent, a little dumbfounded.
“Use what you have: your poise, your perception, your unfailing ability to see through a man. You’re not as powerless as they’d have you believe.”
She shook her head, doubting she’d survive a night.
“Mr Hawke is not a man open to charm.”
“Yet you’ve done something right.”
“I’ve packed nothing but a few serviceable dresses.”
Lady Soanes’ eyes brightened. “Perfect. You must endeavour to be yourself, Miss Harland. No masks. No clever tricks. Refuse any other role he gives you. He’s accountable for his actions, and you shall remind him of that.”
She couldn’t deny the thought of confronting Mr Hawke had appeal. A few days away from London would keep her out of harm’s way and give her time to think. And she wouldn’t have to waste precious funds on a stage ticket.
“Very well, my lady.”
“Excellent. And you must call me Charlotte.” The lady couldn’t hide her elation. She captured Daphne’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Come. Let me write a letter, and we’ll devise a plan. The first being how you get past the guard at the gate.”