A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Jeremy turned, expecting that the duke had returned to plague him.
But it was Lord Wilks’ smirking countenance in front of him instead. “She’s a lovely sight, isn’t she?”
“Who?”
“You know who. Lady Rivers is quite remarkable.”
Jeremy had taken an immediate dislike to Wilks and it wasn’t because he was three sheets to the wind already. There was just something decidedly too slick and false about his laugh to make Jeremy feel he was entirely trustworthy. “Yes, she is indeed,” Jeremy murmured.
“Tell me, do you have to follow all her orders—I’m sorry, stage directions—like a pampered pug on a leash or does she let you be a man and take charge of her on occasion?”
Jeremy stared at the fellow in shock and not a little revulsion, too. “What nonsense are you talking about?”
“Oh, come now. You did well to convince her to sponsor your fledgling career on the stage, but surely you could have asked for much more than a token payment of a hundred pounds. You’re pretending to be in love with her and deserve a higher compensation. She’d never have felt the pinch.” Wilks threw his arm over Jeremy’s shoulder. “I can help you squeeze more blunt out of her, for a modest fee, of course.”
Jeremy was appalled at the suggestion but tried to keep his shock off his face. He threw Wilks’ arm from his shoulders and faced the drunkard. How could Wilks have deduced their arrangement in one half day? He’d arrived barely in time for the nuptials, unless…
Unless he’d been given the agreement to read since the marriage had taken place.
Jeremy swore under his breath as he took in Wilks’ smug countenance. Had Lord Thwaite stolen Jeremy’s employment agreement from Fanny’s chambers and shared the contents with his drunkard of a son? Obviously, Wilks intended to use that information to line his own pocket, too.
He glanced across the chamber, only to see Fanny slipping from the ballroom with her sisters in tow. There was no way he could warn her. The bride was about to head off to her new home, if he remembered correctly. It was the perfect moment for Wilks to approach him, when everyone’s attention was diverted to the other side of the ballroom.
Jeremy steadied his temper. He couldn’t become flustered over the conversation. He intended to get that piece of paper back to Fanny tonight.
Wilks patted his pocket. “I could certainly make it worth your while to reconsider where your loyalties lie.”
Jeremy’s eyes narrowed on Wilks. The contract was in his pocket, right in front of him.
He had vowed not to waste this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, but his loyalty was to Fanny, not his own pocket. He smiled quickly, playing along with the fellow’s scheme to make him seem amenable. “How much should I have asked for?”
“Meet me tomorrow in the orchard at noon, and we can discuss it,” Wilks advised with another smirk.
Three booming rings from a staff upon the parquetry floor and Jeremy turned toward the sound. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Earl and Countess of Rafferty are taking their leave.”
People applauded, and then surged toward the entrance hall to see the newlyweds off.
Jeremy was bumped hard in the rush to reach the doorway first, falling conveniently against Wilks. The man threw him off—but not before Jeremy had checked inside his coat pockets and lifted a paper he found there.
It felt about the same size as the brief contract he’s signed. He had no time to check though. Jeremy palmed it as he righted himself, apologizing profusely, while he quickly flicked it up his coat sleeve and followed everyone else out the door.
Jeremy winced. His scandalous past had come in handy for his new role twice now. It would be the last time, too.
He followed everyone outside into the gathering gloom, suppressing the instinct to slip into the shadows to check what he’d pinched from Lord Wilks to make sure he had Fanny’s property.
Fanny was down on the driveway by the carriage, surrounded by her family, dabbing at her eyes, brushing aside happy tears—at least he hoped they were happy. He’d noticed she seemed to cry all sorts of tears. He found that confusing, but he had a handkerchief ready in his hand in case it was needed.
The wedding guests gathered on the steps together as groom and blushing bride climbed into the carriage and finally drove away toward Lord Rafferty’s home.
Fanny and Lord Thwaite fell into step on their way back inside. Thwaite was wearing a pleased expression, and he whispered something to Fanny that made her laugh. But she was quickly drawn away by the duchess and her remaining sister and swept into the house.
Jeremy put his hand to his coat pocket, returning his handkerchief.
The man in front of him turned about abruptly, and he found himself staring straight into Wilks’ eyes again.
The fellow touched his pocket, and his eyes narrowed as he searched for something that was no longer in his possession. “What did you put in your coat pocket?” he demanded.
“What, my handkerchief?”