‘Of course. When she gets in. She’s taken a fancy to long country walks for some reason. Come back after dinner, Inchbold, and you can talk all you like.’
‘My lord.’ From the sound of his voice the Runner was on his feet and making for the door. ‘Thank you for your co-operation, my lord.’
There was the sound of
the front door closing, of wheels on the drive. Lina stayed were she was, not at all certain her legs would hold her up. She heard Quinn pull the bell rope and a few moments later the door opened again.
‘Trimble, get Jenks in here at the double. And, Trimble, no member of staff speaks to that Runner, or to any other stranger asking questions, on pain of instant dismissal. Is that clear?’
‘My lord, I will see to it at once.’
Quinn came to stand by the screen. ‘Stay where you are.’ His voice was cold and Lina shivered and obeyed, listening to the sound of Quinn’s booted feet pacing on the boards until there was a tap at the door.
‘Ah, Jenks. That gig that has just left—I want you to follow it, see where it goes and if the driver is joined by anyone else. Don’t let yourself be seen. When you are certain he’s fixed wherever he ends up, come back to me.’
‘My lord. Up to no good, is he? We’ll see about that.’
‘You can come out now,’ Quinn said when the room was silent again. ‘Stay at the back away from the window.’
‘Thank you.’ Lina got as far as one of the hard upright chairs and sat down, shaking. ‘Thank you so much. I thought—’
‘And I thought you were telling me the truth and in fact you are a demi-rep from a St James’s brothel.’ He looked furious as he stood in front of her, hands fisted on his hips. ‘I have just given my word to an officer of the law that you are not here. Now, tell me the truth this time or I’ll have him back here so fast you won’t be able to say hanging cleat.’
‘I did not steal the sapphire. I am not a prostitute.’
‘And you don’t know this brothel, The Blue Door, and you’ve never met this Tolhurst?’
‘I live there.’ Quinn’s eyebrows rose. ‘And I was in his bedchamber when he died. And I did not steal anything.’
‘How did you get here?’
‘My aunt owns The Blue Door. She is unwell and she sent me to Lord Dreycott because they knew each other, a long time ago. I told him the truth. Aunt was certain they would not believe me. Quinn, if they still have not found who took the sapphire, they’ll hang me.’
‘And you saw fit to make me an accomplice after the fact,’ he said grimly. ‘Well, we had better make certain Inchbold believes me, hadn’t we? Come upstairs.’
‘Why?’ Lina stayed where she was. This was a man she found she did not know at all: hard, angry, all humour and sympathy banished.
‘So I can get some return for my lies before dinner?’ She felt herself go pale. ‘No, nothing so pleasurable. So we can put on a convincing performance when Inchbold gets back. I just hope you can act.’
‘I’ve no idea. I’ll try.’ The look he gave her promised a multitude of consequences if she did not, and none of them were good. Shaking, Lina followed him from the study and upstairs.
Quinn halted at her bedchamber door. ‘Show me your clothes.’ Beyond questions, Lina opened the door and pulled wide wardrobe and drawers. ‘Put this on,’ Quinn said, picking up a deep blue silk gown, one of the few she had not dyed.
‘I need a maid for the lacing.’ Lina reached for the bell.
‘Leave it. You’ll make do with me. The less the staff are involved in this, the better, I don’t want to risk their safety, too.’ He took her shoulder, turned her round and began to unhook the back of the gown she was wearing.
‘Quinn! You cannot undress me!’
‘Why not? Or do you only feel comfortable when money has been exchanged?’ he asked.
‘I—no, that isn’t it.’ Lina clutched the bodice of the gown, unsettled more by his brisk handling than she might have been if his fingers had lingered on the bare skin as they brushed it. Quinn gestured impatiently and she let the gown drop, snatching up the other one and pulling it over her head under his cool green gaze.
He laced the new gown up just as impersonally, then turned her back to face him. ‘That must go,’ he said as he tugged out the infill of lace at the neckline. Lina gasped as she looked down to find her breasts half-exposed in the taut silken cups of the bodice. ‘Better,’ Quinn said. ‘Have you paint for your face?’
‘No, I told you—’
‘Come to my room. That sketch is too damn good for my liking,’ Quinn said, his hand hard on her arm as he marched her across the corridor. ‘But it looks as you do now—big innocent blue eyes, hair up neat and tidy. What was the idea? Did he like pretending he was getting an innocent?’