Stephen stopped petting Milton and leaned over to pick up a bottle of brandy from a side table. He held it up, but Harry shook his head. “Not at this hour. In fact, I think I might need to give the brandy and whisky a bit of a rest. I have a sneaking suspicion that I am going to have to get my hands dirty with this job,” replied Harry.
The last thing he needed was to be deep in his cups when the occasion called for the use of his fists, or worse, a pistol. He might well be considered somewhat of a fop by much of the ton, but Harry had never let a client down yet. And he wasn’t about to start.
“What else are you planning? A well-placed threat perhaps? I do find them quite effective,” said Stephen.
I have a feeling this blackguard won’t flinch if threatened. He has too much to lose if he backs off.
Harry sauntered over to the window. His head was now clear enough that he could risk looking out into the brightness of the mid-morning. On the street below, people moved up and down Grosvenor Street.
At least the weather is pleasant for seeing Mama at luncheon today.
His weekly catch-up with his mother in town was the highlight of his week. He might not be able to visit his family home but seeing her gave him hope for some reconciliation in the future.
“I’m not sure on the warning shot across his bow. I think a spot of reconnaissance is in order first. I want to get the measure of this Saint chap and to discover just how much of a hold he has over Miss Patience North. If she is but a passing fancy, a quiet word in his ear might well suffice.”
Stephen poured himself a generous glass of brandy, then sat back. Harry didn’t need to hear what his friend was likely thinking. Fortune hunters came in all forms, some downright dangerous. But they all shared the one attribute—dogged persistence. The minute they got a whiff of a pound note, the game was on.
“Let me know if you require a late-night roughing up of this blackguard. I am always available,” replied Stephen.
“I am expecting an update from my spies at some point today, and then this evening, I shall head to Viscount Ashton’s ball and get a good look at the situation for myself. I also want to have a longer conversation with Miss Alice North. There are a number of important questions for which I need answers from her.”
“Such as?”
Harry turned from the window. “Well, for a start, there is the most obvious one, why the hell is an unmarried young woman having to ward off a possible family scandal? The second being, just how far is she prepared to go?”
Handing over her papa’s hard-earned cash was one thing, but if they were going to get Cuthbert Saint out of the picture, Miss Alice North might have to step up to the mark.
She may have the spine for dealing with rude nobles, but when push came to shove, would she have the stomach for standing beside him and confronting a desperate man?
Hmm. I have a feeling my Alice might just have that sort of fortitude.
He could only hope that things would not get so bad as to have to put his client in danger.
Chapter 3
“Oh, do come on, Alice. We will be late,” moaned Patience.
Alice had dragged her heels for as long as she could, but there was no delaying the inevitable. Patience was determined to attend the ball and be seen on the arm of Cuthbert Saint.
Why couldn’t you have fallen for a nice noble or at least a war hero? Anyone but him.
She could just imagine the look of abject horror on their mother’s face if she was to witness her youngest daughter making a fool of herself over the charming Mister Saint. Mrs. North was all for her daughters living their own lives, but even she had her limits.
Pity those boundaries didn’t stop you and Papa disappearing to Paris for three months.
“I’m coming,” Alice replied.
After picking up her shawl, Alice draped it over her arm and hurried out of her bedroom. Downstairs, her sister paced back and forth. The moment Alice set foot on the ground floor, Patience took a firm hold of her arm and verily dragged her out the front door and into Mortimer Street.
“What is your hurry?” she pleaded.
An annoying grin appeared on Patience’s face, and Alice immediately gritted her teeth. How many times had she seen that smile in the weeks since Cuthbert had sunk his claws into the youngest of the North siblings?
“Cuthbert said he is arriving early this evening. He wants to spend as much time as possible with me. He is even going to mark my dance card; can you believe it?” she said.
Oh yes, I can believe it. I expect he has plenty of plans to mark other parts of you as well, the dirty swine. Patience, how can you not see beyond his easy smile?
A footman assisted them both into the North family carriage. While Patience prattled on about the wonders of her handsome beau, Alice took the time to check that there were no stray pieces of lint on her dark grey gown. Flecks always showed up on the fabric.
Not exactly a green-and-yellow-floral gown. Nor is it accessorized with a piglet. I wonder what Lord Harry will make of it.
Not that she particularly cared what Harry Steele thought of her attire, but it was always nice to receive an approving glance from a gentleman. There were men within the ton who appreciated a well-made garment, and the modiste which her father’s vast wealth afforded them was one of London’s finest.
“Oh, I meant to tell you. A letter arrived from Ireland this morning,” said Patience.
Alice stopped picking at her skirts and glared at her sister. The only person they knew in Ireland was their wastrel of a brother, Finn, who had bolted from the family home within days of their parents leaving for the continent.
“Why did you wait until now to tell me?” asked Alice.
Tears welled in Patience’s eyes.
Oh, heaven help me. Don’t become a watering pot when we are almost at the ball.
“I was going to tell you, but I knew you would get mad. When you came home from wherever you had been this morning, you were in such a foul temper. I didn’t want to add to your problems.”
Alice took in a long, deep breath, trying her best to find her calm. “What did Finn’s letter say?”
Patience dabbed at her face with her handkerchief but wouldn’t meet Alice’s eyes. If their brother intended to extend his impromptu journey to Ireland, she was going to kill him. So much for promising their parents that he would act as chaperone to his sisters during their absence.
“He said he was going to travel to Wexford to view some more horses.”
Alice waited. There had to be more to Finn’s note than that. Her brother was nothing if not predictable. He was also one hundred percent unreliable.
Is that a thing? Being reliably unreliable?
“What else did his letter say?” Alice leaned across the narrow carriage space and placed her hand on Patience’s arm, giving it an encouraging rub. Her sister finally glanced her way.
“He has met someone. The daughter of a local landowner. Finn fancies himself in love and has vowed not to return to England until he has made her his wife.”
Alice’s hand slipped and it smacked against the leather of the carriage seat. With her head bowed, she let her fingers continue to tap while she tried to absorb this latest piece of unfortunate news.
With Finn remaining in Ireland, she was condemned to handle the growing disaster of her sister’s foolish heart all on her own.