Page 3 of The Last Chance
Aaron mounted the stairs behind her, focusing on the new Axminster carpet and not the lure of her perfume or the gentle sway of her hips.
“Wait,” he commanded, urging her to pause on the landing. He never walked into a situation without knowing the facts. “Before we proceed, you will explain your dilemma.”
Her bottom lip quivered. “Where do I begin? This will be my undoing.” She spoke like the world had gathered an army against her, and Wellington led the charge. “It’s been a constant battle these last six months.”
Aaron did not want to hear a tale to incite his pity. He did not want to hear about her personal affairs. The little he knew kept him awake at night.
“Just tell me what sent you racing across the street barefoot in the rain. What is so shocking, you’d dragmeout of bed?”
She put one hand to her mouth and gripped the banister. “M-murder,” she stuttered. “That’s what had me fleeing the house. That’s what leaves me fearing for my future.”
“Murder?” Such things did not faze a man who’d fought thugs since the age of twelve. The horrors he’d witnessed beggared belief. “When did this murder occur? I assume you’re taking me to see the body.”
He doubted it was murder. More likely, a wallflower had swooned and smacked her head on the grate. Had a spinster suffered her tenth rejection and taken a lethal dose of laudanum?
“It must have happened before we closed tonight.” She glanced at the stairs leading to the second floor and paled. “Noone is permitted up here. It’s never been a problem before, but men like to wander.”
Men liked looking for places to conduct illicit affairs.
What did she expect when welcoming reprobates into her club?
“Were there any incidents prior to closing?”
She looked him in the eye. “What do you want me to say, Mr Chance? That you were right? That inviting men here was a mistake? Mr Daventry said?—”
“Daventry!” Aaron straightened. He should have known the scheming devil was involved. “What the hell has he got to do with this?”
“I spoke to him at Delphine’s wedding. He said under the right circumstances, my wallflowers could achieve miracles. He suggested inviting men so the ladies could practise the art of engaging conversation.”
“Engaging conversation,” Aaron mocked.
“It worked extremely well until one gentleman mimicked Miss Beckett’s stutter and the lady punched him on the nose. There was a terrible scuffle when he seized her arm and shook her quite violently. Miss Durrant whacked him with an iron poker. It was chaos after that.”
Aaron did not laugh at her absurd story. He was so bloody angry he would wring Daventry’s neck. Moreover, he suspected that wasn’t the only distressing incident of the evening.
“Miss Lovelace,” he began, grappling to keep his temper on a tight leash. “Trust me when I say Daventry always has a secret agenda. In future, listen to the man who deals with louts for a living.”
She raised her chin, her confidence returning. “I would if your comments weren’t so self-serving. You want rid of me and criticise all my suggestions.”
He almost smiled at a job well done. “If I wanted rid of you, I would not be standing here barefoot, keen to help you avoid thenoose. Let me speak plainly. This isn’t the life for you. This isn’t the right place for a ladies’ club. I’ve made no secret of that.”
She raised her hands and gave an exaggerated sigh. “Forgive me. I didn’t realise change was so simple. I shall marry a wealthy merchant and retire to the country. Or perhaps I might purchase a property on The Strand like your brother Theo. Shame on me for not considering my options.”
“Perhaps if you told me what you’re really doing here, I might learn to be civil.” He would not. Riling her temper meant she kept her distance. “Where is your father? And don’t say abroad.”
He caught a flicker of fear in her eyes, eyes that were usually so confident and self-assured. That said, with a dead body upstairs, she should be terrified.
“I don’t know where my father is.” The pain of betrayal clung to her voice. “The Burnished Jade belongs to me. I inherited the property from my maternal grandfather years ago. If you don’t believe me, I have the documents as proof.”
“I believe you.” He was like a bloodhound and could smell a liar from a hundred yards. “I assume you’ve looked for your father. That you’ve enquired at the relevant places.”
“Relevant places? You mean the morgue?”
Aaron shrugged. “Men fasten bricks to their ankles and jump into the Thames to escape their debts. Moneylenders will only listen to excuses for so long.” His father was forever evading his creditors. He might have been found dead in an alley had he not forced his young son to brawl with beasts.
“People disappear all the time.”
“People do not disappear,” he countered. “They do not evaporate into the ether. Forgive my blunt manner, but your father is either hiding from his creditors, or he’s dead.”
