Page 65 of Rose and the Rogue
He brooded for hours. Despite his words, he became convinced that there was something he could do to prove to Mr. Blake that he was worthy of Rosalind. Both Blake and Carlos had mentioned that many rumors and tales of Adrian’s past had resurfaced recently. He doubted that was a coincidence. He had to find the source of these rumors and put a stop to them.
When he returned, Carlos had a few ideas of his own. “We need to find the author of that godawful poem. Maybe a past mistress or lover, looking to get back at you?”
Adrian shook his head. “Why wait so long? None of these rumors are new. And they’re circulating among the wrong crowd. A woman’s rumor mill operates through the salons and through her friends. You said Rose’s friend heard them via men who were playing cards, which means they must have heard them at clubs.”
“So a man, then,” Carlos quickly revised his theory. “A husband.”
“No. A husband with a grievance seeks out a duel,” Adrian said. “He wants to defend his own name and honor, not tarnish mine further.”
“Yes, but dueling with you rarely ends well for anyone else. Perhaps this man is too frightened to confront you directly, hence this stupid poem in the paper.”
Adrian nodded. “That’s a theory. But again, I haven’t offended anyone in the past several months.”
“Well, someone thinks differently,” Carlos stated flatly.
The pair spent the evening visiting their own clubs, knowing that it would be difficult to get any man to speak of the rumors directly.
“Oh, rumors,” said one acquaintance they’d finally found liquored up enough to talk freely. “They flare up now and then, don’t they? But who believes them? I mean, I heard you seduced some virgin this week, spirited her right away from her chaperone at a ball or some such. Wish I’d hear those whispers about my exploits,” he added, grumbling.
Adrian was furious. It was one thing to hear his own ancient scandals thrown up against him, but it was chilling to hear this new and precise description, as if someone had specifically been following him. Worse, Rosalind was a victim too… He suddenly understood Mr. Blake’s fear in a way he hadn’t before. Rosalind’s reputation, unlike his, couldn’t withstand even a hint of impropriety. He had to find the source of these oddly detailed rumors to protect her, even if he never saw her again.
“Norbury?” Carlos asked, watching him. “What’s the plan?”
“It hasn’t changed,” he said. “It’s simply more urgent. I’ll find who’s responsible for these stories, and then I’ll run a sword through him.” Adrian turned on his heel and stalked out of the club.
“It has a certain direct charm,” Carlos muttered, hurrying after his friend. In the street, he thought out loud. “The odd thing is, why bring Miss Blake into this at all? If someone wishes to harm your chances of courting her––perhaps he’s a rival?––it would be counterproductive to hurt her reputation as well. I mean, unless there is someone in London who has equal cause to hate you both! And who do you both have in common? You and Miss Blake live in separate worlds.”
Adrian stopped suddenly, staring at his friend.
“What?” Carlos asked.
“Someone we have in common. Someone who wants revenge for what he perceives as his embarrassment. Someone petty enough to hurt a woman he barely knows.”
“I take it you have a candidate.”
“I do,” Adrian growled. “Now we just have to find him.”
It didn’t take long. In a popular gaming hell, Adrian sighted a figure in a long black velvet jacket, standing near the dicing table. Carlos followed his gaze. “Jonathan Hynes? That no-account? You used to associate with him, didn’t you?”
“Years ago. When I was less discriminating about the company I kept.”
“Well, your choice of friends is better now, if I do say so myself. But he didn’t wager on Miss Blake getting ruined.”
“Yes, his name was conspicuously absent.”
Adrian stalked up to the black-clad figure. Just as Hynes tossed the dice in his hands, Adrian said in a mild voice, “I should think you’d get sick of losing.”
Hynes jumped at the words, but recovered quickly. He watched the dice turn up poorly and his stake removed from the table.
He laughed his loss off. “Ah, Lord Norbury. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. You seem to have shifted to musicales and knitting circles.”
A number of men within earshot laughed at Hynes’s comment. Then Carlos stepped behind Adrian, glaring at the circle in general, and the chuckles quickly died.
“The reason I’ve come, Hynes,” Adrian said in a quiet voice, “is because there’s something in this place that I simply can’t find anywhere else.”
“Excitement? Money? A sense of humor?” Hynes snapped, his eyes nevertheless betraying his nervousness.
“A liar.” Adrian looked Hynes over deliberately.
