Page 36 of His Wicked Secret
“What else?”
Lucien frowned. “Isn’t that doing Pembroke a bit of a disservice? The man deserves to know.”
“I believe Audrey has a plan,” said Jonathan. “I would trust her on this.”
“Seems like she’s toying with him, if you ask me.”
“Gillian’s circumstances aren’t as simple as they seem at first glance.” In defending Gillian, Jonathan felt like he was defending his own position within their ranks. “Audrey believes they belong together, or at least a chance to be. And in the end what should matter are their feelings for one another, not what society deems to be an appropriate match.”
“Hear hear!” said Charles. “Let love go where it may, for those who care for such things.”
Lucien sighed wearily. “I suppose that explains why Horatia told me to call her Miss Beaumont and not to be surprised that she was joining us at meals like the other guests. They said something about a play, but to be honest, I stop asking questions after a certain point.” He paused and then sobered. “Do you think Pembroke murdered Langley?”
“No,” Charles said. “That man is the best of men, better than any of us. He’s not a killer. He would have punched Langley, certainly, bound him for the authorities if he could, but he would not have killed him.”
“Do we really believe Langley killed himself?” Lucien stroked his chin. “I don’t know much about the man.”
Charles glanced down at the paper. “He certainly didn’t care about his reputation, but there comes a point where any man can see no salvation for their situation and see hell as an improvement over their time left on earth.”
“That’s true.” Jonathan remembered the fire in Langley’s eyes. That coldhearted black fire didn’t belong to a man who understood shame, but he could recognize an unwinnable situation. The man was about to be exposed for running a hellfire club. Whatever indignities and difficulties he had suffered from Lady Society’s initial exposure would be nothing compared to that. That alone could have driven even the worst man to end his life.
The three of them were silent a long moment.
“Still, it’s also possible someone helped him pull the trigger,” Charles said at last.
“Perhaps,” Lucien said. “But who would kill him, and to what end?”
Jonathan couldn’t shake a bad feeling in his stomach, like he had left something undone or unremembered. Something important.
“Perhaps he had other uses,” Charles suggested. “And those uses had come to an end. Or perhaps, once Audrey had exposed him, he had been living on borrowed time. A man like that could have men all over England waiting to deal with him.”
“Someone did us a favor then,” Lucien mused. “But that rarely happens. I think this bears watching. Jonathan, it seems your unusual wooing technique will serve a greater purpose. I want you to be Audrey’s shadow, day and night. We all remember what happened to Horatia in this very house, abducted from her room and…” He left the rest unsaid.
And almost murdered.Jonathan knew that was a day which would haunt Lucien forever. Friendships had been fractured and loyalties strained. Though those involved had made amends, a fissure still lay hidden deep within the bonds they had formed.
“Will you be her shadow, Jon?” Lucien asked.
“Of course. She will hate me even more for it, though.”
Charles slapped Jonathan’s shoulder. “That’s when you know you are doing the right thing.”
Jonathan assumed his friend meant to comfort him, but the words had the opposite effect. If he had to be Audrey’s shadow, he was going to be put in an impossible situation.
“I’ll see to it that you are seated next to each other at dinner,” Lucien promised.
“We had better go. The gong rang several minutes ago,” Charles reminded them.
“True. We can’t have Horatia fretting. Not in her condition.”
Jonathan followed them out into the corridor. A flicker of movement at the end of the hall caught his eye, and hairs rose on the back of his neck. Had someone been listening at the door? Perhaps Lucien was right.
Starting tonight, Audrey would have him as her shadow, whether she liked it or not.
11
Tom Linley pressed his ear to the keyhole of Lord Rochester’s study, heart pounding.
“Will you be her shadow, Jon?” Rochester’s words were barely audible, but Linley heard them, as well as Mr. St. Laurent’s agreement. He’d heard all he needed to. He dashed into the nearest chamber down the corridor before the trio of gentlemen left Rochester’s study. They would soon be leaving for dinner.
