Page 58 of Temptress in Disguise
“Oh! I recall thinking his name matched his snout of a nose.” With a flourish, Lydia recited a few examples. “Hogson. No. Pigford. No. Piggot. Yes, Mr Piggot. He told the maid he used to live with his aunt next door to the Herald’s office near St Paul’s. Mentioned something about being plagued by pigeons.”
Naomi couldn’t help but give a relieved sigh. Lydia had been surprisingly helpful. “Might you visit his aunt and see if she knows his whereabouts?”
Lydia screwed up her nose. “I can’t be seen where there are crowds. I’ve no transport, and Chivers is tired of this sorry business. I hope to persuade him to support our cause, but these things take time. Can you not take Mr Chance?”
Aramis cursed beneath his breath. “We’re wasting our time here. Your sister cares more about feathering her nest than punishing Melissa for stealing your inheritance.”
Lydia harrumphed. “We cannot rush these things. One mistake, and we lose our chance of making an appeal.”
“You’re missing the point,” Aramis yelled. “My wife is the prime suspect in Budworth’s murder. By rights, she should be in a cell while the useless oafs at Bow Street scramble to find evidence. I’ll not dally while her life hangs in the balance.”
He was right. Without Mr Daventry’s influence with the Home Secretary, she would not be free to walk the streets.
Equally frustrated, Lydia stamped her foot. “What has Budworth’s murder got to do with our inheritance?”
“Nothing. Everything. Until we investigate further, we won’t know.” Aramis drew a calming breath. “You saved your sister from Ingram’s evil clutches. I expect you to help save her now.”
Lydia’s eyes grew wide. “You told him about Mr Ingram?”
“Of course. I keep no secrets from my husband.”
“For pity’s sake, he’s not your husband in the true sense of the word. He is using you as an excuse to visit Melissa.” She glared at Aramis. “How convenient this is for you, sir. Perhaps you hope Melissa harbours secret feelings. Perhaps you mean to frame my uncle for fraud and live with our stepmother.”
“Were you anyone but my wife’s sister, I would tell you what I thought of your pathetic comments.”
Naomi couldn’t bring herself to believe Aramis would be disloyal. “My husband is not capable of such a wicked deception.”
“I think I know more about men than you do, my darling. Take him to see Melissa and seek the proof for yourself.”
Like Lucifer rising from the underworld, Aramis straightened to his full height. His dark eyes hardened as he looked down at Lydia. “Don’t presume to know me, madam. To hell with your inheritance. I don’t give a damn who owns Hartford Hall. My wife will have whatever her heart desires, while you will always be a vulture picking scraps from a dead man’s bones.”
Lydia’s throat worked tirelessly as she tried to keep her composure. Aramis was unlike the gentlemen her sister courted. He could be rude and blunt and coldly cutting. If he raised his defences, no one could break through the barrier.
“You will send word to my wife at Fortune’s Den, informing her of your direction. I’ll not have her lying awake at night fretting about you.” Aramis turned to face her, the fury in his eyes dimming as he captured her hand. “Gather what you need, love. I shall have a private word with Chivers and wait for you outside.”
She nodded and waited for his footsteps to recede before offering Lydia a word of caution. “Mr Chance has been good to me. I wouldn’t be standing here were it not for him.”
Lydia scowled. “You’d be living amid the wilds of Dartmoor were it not for my foresight and intervention.”
Naomi ignored her sister’s need to play the martyr. “And I’ve worked myself to the bone to repay you. But things are different now.” Their paths diverged the moment Lydia left the Belldrake without saying a word. “I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m not the same woman you abandoned.”
She was a stronger version of her old self. She was no longer Lydia’s poor little darling, the one made to feel like a useless burden. In truth, she could not share Hartford Hall with Lydia. If she did find proof of fraud, she would have to place her share of their father’s estate in trust.
But who would be her beneficiary?
There was no one.
No one but the man who made her heart sing.
No one but the wonderful man she had married.
ChapterThirteen
Aramis had a newfound respect for Lucius Daventry. How the man kept abreast of his cases, taught his sons to fence and ride, and kept a permanent smile on his wife’s face was anyone’s guess.
Having spent hours yesterday trying to locate Lord Bedlow and visiting Mrs Boyle’s emporium looking for the missing Maddock, the night ended with trouble in the club.
He had crawled into bed in the early hours and lay on his side in the darkness, staring at the golden-haired angel sleeping soundly on his pillow. Lust’s tightening coil urged him to wake her. God, how he longed to indulge in every wicked pleasure. He craved her smile, her touch, the intimacy that flowed between them whenever their eyes met. But the lack of answers to the mounting questions had left her weary. And since confronting her sister, Naomi had been subdued.
