Page 104 of Never Beguile a Duke
“I’ll lie on the floor of the coach.” Silas shrugged. “Once you enter the gaming hall, I’ll sneak out and slip into the building undetected.”
“Is that prudent?” Mrs. Webb wrapped a comforting arm around her trembling daughter. “If Mr. Curtis’ accomplice catches you, Winifred will be killed.”
“In all likelihood,” Mansfield said, stepping forward, “she’s going to die, anyway.”
A blood-curdling shriek exploded from Miss Webb, and she leaped up from the sofa and fled the parlor.
“Was that necessary?” Roxburghe asked as Mrs. Webb hurried after her daughter.
Mansfield’s eyebrows raised. “You want me to lie?”
“You could have found a kinder way to state your grim expectancy.” Roxburghe glanced at the section of the staircase, just visible beyond the parlor doorway.
“We’ll see to her,” Miss Braddock said, rising from her sofa and gesturing toward Miss Philbert, who stood as well.
“Your Grace.” Miss Philbert clasped her hands in front of her waist as she addressed Silas. “It’s best that we take Miss Juliette upstairs with us. This type of discussion isn’t suitable for someone of her age.”
Juliette appeared as though she wished to protest, then she nodded, slid from the chair, and crossed the room. After taking Miss Philbert’s hand, Juliette grasped Miss Braddock’s as well and led both ladies from the parlor.
Mr. Braddock slid from his unobtrusive position and crept to the doorway, tracking his sister’s progress up the staircase. When she reached the second-floor landing, he spun around, his blue eyes glowing.
“I have a suggestion that may facilitate our rescue of Miss Fernsby-Webb,” he said, moving to the center of the room. “Since I’ve only been in town a short time, no one will recognize my face. I can secure lodging at the gaming hall this evening without raising suspicion and be poised for tomorrow’s meeting.”
Roxburghe exchanged a glance with Lennox, then said, “The clientele at this particular location can be a bit…unruly.”
“And your sister,” Lennox said, tilting his head toward the parlor’s exit, “would discourage the scheme.”
“My sister faced Mr. Drummond without my protection,” Mr. Braddock said, his voice hitching. “Allow me to express my gratitude for the assistance she received from all of you.”
“You could stop punching me,” Lennox muttered, rubbing the side of his face as though attempting to speed the disappearance of several fading bruises.
“That will be my gift on your wedding day.”
Every man erupted into laughter.
“Despite your argument,” Mansfield said once their amusement died, “one of us should accompany you to the gaming hall. If Roxburghe needs a chaperone, you most certainly do.”
“Which of us is unrecognizable?” Silas asked, his eyes flicking to each man in turn. “Our titles make clandestine activities difficult.”
“Warwick would be the best solution,” Mansfield replied with a grimace. “However, he’s currently unavailable.”
“I’ll go.” Grisham’s soft voice drew their attention. “With my engagement early in the season, the death of Miss Philbert’s brother, and the arrest of her sister, we’ve been avoiding most social functions.”
“I have one request,” Mr. Braddock said, addressing Mansfield. “As my absence will prevent me from protecting my sister from her fiancé’s nefarious designs, would you act in my stead?”
“May I strike him as well?” Mansfield asked, his dark gaze jumping to Lennox.
A smile twitched across Mr. Braddock’s cherubic face. “I would expect nothing less, Your Grace.”
“I agree to your terms.” Mansfield held out his arm and pumped Mr. Braddock’s hand once.
Mr. Braddock and Grisham departed without giving warning to either Miss Braddock or Miss Philbert, knowing if they shared their precarious plan, one—or both—of the ladies would strongly object.
Grabbing the coin sack, Mansfield upended the bag, dumped the contents onto a small table, and strode toward the parlor’s exit.
“Lennox,” he said, over his shoulder, “come outside with me.”
“Why?” Lennox grumbled, his eyes shifting to the blanket of light snow collecting on the window ledge.
