Page 98 of One Night with a Prince
But she couldn’t think about him right now. Or the fact that she’d passed Lady Kingsley heading for the music room. An assignation? With the only woman he’d ever loved? She couldn’t bear to think it. But she had to face the prospect of a future without Gavin, of hearing about him with some new mistress, while she and Papa weathered whatever awful prospect lay before them. Shaking off the icy fear stealing down her spine, she set her fan on a console table near the door. She’d been using the fan as her excuse for being in any room. If a servant came in or one of the guests, she said,
“I was looking for my fan—have you seen it?” Then she’d pretend to find it and leave the room. After so much time searching, she’d developed a routine. Begin at the door and work steadily around the room twice. In the first time around, she examined the furniture, though she doubted she’d find the letters just sitting in some drawer. The second round was for the walls. She searched every panel andGenerated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlmolding within reach, looking for anomalies in paint and trim and design, anything that might hide a safe. Of course, once she found one, she’d have to deal with Gavin, because he could open it, and she couldn’t. But she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.
She’d just opened a drawer when she heard the door open behind her and a voice say, “You won’t find them in there, Lady Haversham. What kind of an idiot do you take me for?”
Whirling to face Lord Stokely, she felt her blood freeze as he reached behind him with a cold smile to turn the key in the drawing room door, then drop it into a coat pocket.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She fought not to show fear as she edged toward where her fan lay on the console table. “I was looking for my fan.”
His hand came down on hers just as she reached for it. He pocketed her fan, too, and her heart sank. A chilling laugh escaped him. “We both know you weren’t looking for any fan, my dear. You and Byrne must take me for a complete idiot. I know what you want—and you can be sure that you willnever find those letters just lying around in some drawing room. I have them in a very safe place, I assure you.”
Oh, Lord, he knows everything.
He shocked her by lifting her bare hand to his lips and kissing it. “Of course, you might persuade me to share the fruits of my labors if you make the effort. You might as well receive something from this scheme, too. The letters did belong to your family, after all.”
When he closed his mouth around her forefinger and sucked, it was all she could do not to punch a hole in his palate. But she wasn’t ready to draw the battle lines—she’d find out what she could while they were still on good terms.
So she swallowed her disgust, and asked coyly, “What do you mean, you could help me get something, too?”
He lifted his head, but didn’t release her hand. “I knew you would see reason. Especially after Byrne kicked you out of his bed.” His eyes gleamed. “Your dear Philip didn’t leave you with much, did he? And the prince is no doubt breathing down your neck for the letters.”
She schooled herself to show no response. “What is your offer, sir?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Greedy little spitfire, aren’t you? I think you’ll like what I propose. If you’ll tell Prinny that you’ll authenticate the letters if I’m forced to publish them, then I will make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.”
“Byrne offered me riches, too,” she lied. “Why should I takeyour offer?”
“He doesn’t have the letters. And I do. When Prinny marries me off to Princess Charlotte—”
“He’ll never do it,” she broke in. “His Highness has loftier husbands in mind for her.”
The baron snorted. “Given the choice between marrying his daughter to me or losing his chance to be king, the prince will never choose Charlotte, I assure you. And if heis fool enough to do so, then I can sell those letters to a publisher for a hefty sum.” He entwined his fingers with hers and drew her close.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
“Especially if you agree to tell your side of the story. They’ll be fighting over who gets to publish the book. You were what age when you and your father sailed off to Gibraltar with a prince’s son? Six? Seven?”
“Eight,” she said tightly.
“Perfect. A child’s perspective.”
She fought down the roiling of her stomach. “You forget that my father is still alive. And he could be hanged for treason if they’re published.”
Lord Stokely shrugged. “Your father’s a general—he could flee to America or any number of places from France, and no one would ever find him.” He bent his head to her ear. “Youare the one you should be thinking of, my dear, not your father.”
When he placed a wet kiss to her ear, she eased her head away from him with a shiver. “And I suppose a friendship with you would be part of this bargain.”
“Of course.” His eyes bored into hers, lust shining in their depths. “I will be a most generous lover, my dear. I know you have nowhere to go, but I would set you up in any house in London that you choose, a slew of houses if you want. Princess Charlotte comes with a substantial dowry, so I could afford to shower you with jewels and gowns and—”
“There’s only one problem with that,” she said, extricating her hand from his. “I don’t particularly care for jewels and gowns and houses in town. And I have no desire to be your mistress.”
“Holding out for marriage, are you? Not sensible, you know. A penniless marchioness is of little more use to a man than a penniless milliner.” He ran his slimy gaze down her. “Some fellow might marry you for your obvious charms, but beyond that, you’re little good to a man.”
“Then why would you want me for a mistress?” she snapped.
“Because I happen to like obvious charms.” He slid his hand about her waist. “And you’ve shown that you prefer men of my sort.”
“Not really.” Time to get out of his. She wrenched free of his hold and backed toward the door. “I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse your generous offer, Lord Stokely. Being one man’s mistress is more than enough for me.” She searched for something that might make him open the door. “In fact, Byrne and I had planned to meet here to search for the letters. He’s probably on the way even as we speak, and since he’s adept at picking locks—”
“Good try, Lady Haversham, but it won’t wash. I saw him heading out into the gardens with Lady Kingsley right before I came in here. Why do you think I chose that moment to speak to you?” As he stalked her, his smile sent a shiver down her spine. “Ever heard the phrase,divide and conquer ? Lady Kingsley is interested in renewing her acquaintance with your good friend Byrne.”
