“And miss an opportunity to threaten her with arrest?” One look at the Home Secretary’s official seal and Mrs Dunwoody would choke on her own vitriol. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to watch that harpy squirm.”
Caroline Street
Bloomsbury
Theo did not give Mrs Dunwoody’s doddery butler a second chance to refuse them entry. The evil hag was at home. Her loud cackle might be heard as far afield as Gloucester.
“Step aside.” The fire of vengeance burned in Theo’s blood. He would forever blame the Berridge clan for abandoning them when their father died. “It isn’t a request.”
He gripped Miss Darrow’s hand, pulling her across the threshold as he marched into Mrs Dunwoody’s Bloomsbury abode.
“Wait,” she whispered, tugging his hand to halt his progress. “You’re like a wolf baying for blood. You must keep a tight rein on your temper. As an intelligent man, you know this situation calls for brains, not brawn.”
The gentle squeeze of her hand settled his thundering pulse. Theo cast her a sidelong glance, wondering how someone so dainty had the power to calm his restless spirit.
“A few week ago, you said I had the brains of a donkey.”
“Because you’re stubborn and calculating. Donkeys have good survival instincts. All things considered, they’re clever animals.”
“You’re saying I should be pleased I’m an ass?” He wasn’t sure why, but the need to see her laugh was as compelling as the need to kiss her again.
Her chuckle did something strange to his insides. “You should be ecstatic. A donkey’s ability to adapt to its environment is a quality to be admired. So, the goal today is to be assertive, not aggressive.”
He bowed his head. “I thank you for your counsel. I shall remain composed in the face of adversity.”
It should have been easy, but Mrs Dunwoody was having tea with Lady Lucille and Theo’s estranged cousin, the insipid Viscount Wrotham.
Wrotham nearly slipped off the French bergere chair when he saw them. “What the devil are you doing here, Chance? Perhaps you got lost on your way to a bordello.”
“Why would I be in need of a bordello? I am betrothed to Miss Darrow. No woman alive possesses her allure.”
Lady Lucille inhaled sharply.
Mrs Dunwoody sucked in her cheeks. “Tribbings!” she yelled, shooing the Persian cat off her lap. “I said you were to turn this thankless wretch away.”
Theo withdrew a letter from his pocket and handed it to Mrs Dunwoody. “I’m here on a matter of national security.” They did not need to know the letter Daventry gave him related to a different case. “As you can see, I come at the behest of the Home Secretary.”
Wrotham snorted. “Obviously it’s a forgery. What would a respectable man like Melbourne want with a gaming hell owner?”
Retrieving the eyeglass dangling from a chain around her neck, Mrs Dunwoody scrutinised the seal. “It’s a crime to impersonate a peer. Not that anyone would believe you were of good stock. You’re like windfall in an orchard—rotten to the core.”
Theo kept his cool reserve.
Miss Darrow was right. Calmness brought clarity. Yet the lady had trouble following her own advice.
“And you’re the fruit picked first,” Miss Darrow said, albeit with some eloquence. “You’re hard and so dreadfully bitter.”
Theo chuckled. He couldn’t help but admire her insight.
“Says the nobody dressmaker. Though once my friends learn of your shoddy taste, the only ladies you’ll dress are those walking the streets at night.”
“Why would anyone trust your word?” Miss Darrow countered. “You say your husband is in Boston on business when everyone knows he’s living in Hastings with an opera singer half his age.”
Lady Lucille gasped.
Mrs Dunwoody dropped her eyeglass and stared in stupefied silence. Twice, she opened her mouth, but only air came out.
“What is it you want?” Lady Lucille asked in a haughty tone. “Be warned, my father will speak to Lord Melbourne to confirm your claim.”
“Your father, not your betrothed?” Theo glanced at his pathetic cousin. “What do you say, Wrotham? Are you happy to play the docile pug? Will you roll over at the lady’s command?”
Lady Lucille answered for him. “I shall be Lord Wrotham’s responsibility once we wed next spring. Until then, I trust my father to act in my stead.”
“How strange,” Miss Darrow mused, looking at Theo like he was a god amongst men. “I’m quite confident Mr Chance would fight an army to protect me and I don’t even have a dowry.”
Wrotham snorted. “Why would Chance need a dowry? He fleeces the lords of the ton six nights a week.”
Theo firmed his stance, his amusement dissipating. “Are you accusing me of cheating, Wrotham? Have a care. I’ll be glad of an excuse to call you out.”
Mrs Dunwoody was quick to avert disaster. “Good grief! I am being violated in my own home.” She waved the letter at Theo. “Explain what you want then get out.”
Theo snatched the letter and slipped it into his pocket. “You requested two copies of The Vampyre from Pickering’s library.”
Mrs Dunwoody’s face was a masterpiece of disbelief. “What on earth has my taste in literature got to do with the Home Secretary?”
Wrotham tittered. “I told you the letter was a forgery.”
