The craven trio backed out of the box.
Mrs Dunwoody uttered something derogatory as a final farewell, but a scream of laughter from the audience drowned out the cutting remark.
Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief. She was one step closer to reclaiming her sewing box. Yes, Lady Lucille would probably warn her friends to find a new modiste, but Eleanor would not die tonight.
“Well, thank you for an entertaining evening, Mr Chance, but I have business elsewhere.” Having wasted enough time, she bid his family farewell and gathered her cloak. “May I have a private word outside?”
The amusement in his eyes confirmed he was unaware of the secrets hidden inside the box. “Of course.”
He drew back one curtain but blocked the exit so she was forced to squeeze past him. This time, it wasn’t the divine smell of his cologne that made her heart flutter but the man’s sheer size.
Theodore Chance might be the youngest of four brothers, but he was no less intimidating. He stood tall and robust, a perfect monument to maleness. His powerful presence would make any woman feel safe. What a shame he was her enemy and not her ally.
The devil grinned as he joined her in the corridor. “I suppose this is where you demand I keep my end of the bargain.”
“You made such a fuss about being deceived. I’m confident you’re a man of your word.” She straightened. Something about his manner made her wary. Perhaps he liked this game and had no desire to see it reach a swift conclusion. “I did everything you asked. It is imperative that you return my box to me tonight.”
He drew his thumb across his bottom lip as he studied her. “You did more than I asked, Miss Darrow. I asked for a kiss, but you gave me a glimpse of something more intriguing.”
Heavens above!
This man would test a nun’s patience.
“Do not mistake me for those simpering misses who hang on your every word.” She tried to dismiss thoughts of their kiss, but the touch of his lips had left an indelible imprint in her memory. “I am immune to your flirtations and flattery.”
“I beg to differ.” He raised his chin, his eyes shining in silent challenge. “You may lie to yourself, Miss Darrow, but you cannot lie to me. Had I deepened the kiss, you would have welcomed me into your mouth.”
The mental image of him pressing her against the wall and ravishing her senseless was entirely unhelpful. Fortunately, the fear of being slain in her bed snapped her back to reality.
“I thought you had taken a vow of celibacy.”
“I’m willing to bend the rules for you, madam. You’re not inclined to marry, and perhaps you’ll find an illicit liaison more satisfying than sorting the spools in your sewing box.”
If she had nothing better to do than tidy the threads, she might agree. His comment meant he didn’t know the box had a hidden compartment. Her survival depended upon the secret notes reaching their recipients.
“The only satisfaction I seek is having my box returned to me.”
“Yet your eyes tell a different story.”
As if in agreement, the theatre erupted in a symphony of applause. As the audience prepared to flood the halls, eager to stretch their legs and find refreshment, she spoke with an air of finality. “No more games, sir.”
Mr Chance inclined his head in acquiescence. “Your box is wedged between the mattress and headboard in my bedchamber at Fortune’s Den.”
The weight of her burden lifted from her shoulders. “Bring it to my shop in New Bridge Street tonight and we can put this sorry business behind us.” If she did not deliver the blackguard’s note by six o’clock tomorrow, she would have to leave London.
Mr Chance chose to be pedantic. “I agreed to tell you where to find the box. If you wish to reclaim it, you must do that yourself.”
With her relief short-lived, she firmed her jaw but felt like throttling him with his starched cravat. “You will be the ruin of me, sir, and not for any romantic reasons I may have once envisioned.”
He narrowed his gaze. “Ruined over a few threads? Is there something you’re not telling me, madam?”
Confess, the logical voice in her head cried.
She was out of her depth, drowning in a quagmire of deception, sinking in a swamp of secrets. Telling the truth meant admitting she was involved in immoral schemes and wicked charades. He would think less of her than he did already.
“I’m tired, Mr Chance.” She had barely slept since realising her precious notes were missing. “What do you want me to say? That I shouldn’t have helped Delphine? That I shouldn’t have lied to you?”
“You let me think you enjoyed my company.” As he spoke, she caught a fleeting glimpse of sadness behind his stoic facade. “You let me believe our conversations were the highlight of your day.”
“I am truly sorry.” To say anything else meant admitting she held him in high regard—well, she had before he began his quest for vengeance. “Delphine is my client and my friend. How could I refuse her request?”
He remained silent, though the hum of conversation echoing from the auditorium built to a crescendo. People poured out of the private boxes. Many stared in their direction.
Her blackmailer might be amongst them—a devious dog in a docile pack. She had no clue whether the villain was a man or a woman.
“Come with me, Miss Darrow.” Mr Chance parted the curtains to the earl’s box, spoke to his brother and left abruptly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Aramis was glued to his wife’s lips.”
With a firm grip on Eleanor’s elbow, he led her to the foyer, pushing past those loitering on the grand staircase. All eyes were upon them as he opened the wooden doors and led her outside into the cool summer night’s air.
He inhaled deeply. “I would rather watch libertines lose at the card table than endure the nonsense on stage.”
His remark was a cue to ask an important question.
“Is the club closed tonight?” she said, gauging how and when she might force the lock on the front door. “I’m surprised your eldest brother could spare you.”
Aaron Chance was a hard taskmaster. Fooling him to gain entrance to Fortune’s Den would be no mean feat.
Being astute, he gave a playful wink. “I suppose you’re considering how you might force your way inside. This would be much simpler if you were honest and told me what’s so special about the box.”
