Nicholas remained silent.
Parbrook did not wear a strange ring.
Parbrook needed to marry Helen, not kill her.
Nicholas might have confided in Sebastian were his friend not so hot-headed. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to the fact Charles Holland was his half-brother.
“We’ll question those in attendance. See if anyone has seen Parbrook about town.” Hearing the pad of footsteps on the stairs, Sebastian’s gaze moved to Miss De Luca and her ageing chaperone. He inclined his head and bid the ladies good morning, but as soon as they were out of earshot said, “I mean to avoid that woman like the plague.”
“Because she is hunting for a husband?”
“Because she is wildly exotic and has a mischievous glint in her eye that will land me in trouble.” He snorted. “We’ve avoided scheming misses thus far, and neither wants to break an oath.”
Nicholas suppressed a groan. “One day, a woman might sweep you off your feet.” He might brush tears from her cheeks and suddenly realise he had loved her forever. “Then you’ll say to hell with the pact.”
It was a case of wishful thinking.
Sebastian laughed. “There’s more chance of hell freezing over.” He caught Nicholas’ arm and brought him to an abrupt halt. “I meant to ask, did Helen say anything during the carriage ride? I fear this business has left her out of sorts because she seems to be in a constant daydream.”
“Not really.”
Was his life to be an endless stream of secrets and lies?
Sebastian frowned. “She must have said something.”
“Mainly, she spoke about Miss Ware’s interest in archaeology.” He chose not to mention the mystic’s prediction. “I get the sense Helen feels trapped by the confines of her sex. She has an adventurous spirit and seeks unconventional pastimes.”
It was all some semblance of the truth.
“Hence why she should marry before she finds herself ruined for good. She’s far too trusting.” Sebastian lowered his voice. “Did she say what she was doing alone in a dark corridor at the Hamptons’ ball?”
“No.” But it wasn’t to take air. Nicholas knew that.
“I thought if you were alone together, she might confide in you. You beat Parbrook to a pulp. She has every reason to be grateful.”
Was that why he had left them alone in the carriage?
“We never spoke about Parbrook.” Not until after the accident. Only then did it occur to her that the scoundrel might seek retribution for his injuries. And Charles Holland was not to blame, not when he needed Nicholas alive to pay the blackmail demand.
“Next time, remind me to give you a list of questions, Nicholas.”
The comment roused his ire. “Next time, do not leave your sister in a compromising position. Had she died, you would not live with the guilt.”
Sebastian winced against the verbal blow. “I suppose I deserve that. Still, it is unlike you to remind me of my failings.”
“I might have died, too. Perhaps my frayed nerves have affected my temper.” And he would be forced to watch men fawn over Helen for five days, and his friend hadn’t had the decency to give him fair warning.
Sebastian arched a mocking brow. “You dice with death every time you visit that rogue’s club in Aldgate. Parbrook escaped lightly. One day, you might forget where you are and kill someone.”
With any luck, it would be Charles Holland.
They entered the dining room to find Lady Brompton seated at the head of the table. She was a vivacious widow of fifty, with coal-black hair and a love of yellow.
“Denton. St Clair.” The lady flapped her hands to get their attention and looked like an excited canary in her jonquil morning dress. “We expected you to join us for piquet last night. What kept you?”
“An accident on the road, my lady.” Sebastian inclined his head. “We were forced to return to London and change vehicles.”
Nicholas scanned the faces of those seated at the table—Mrs Forde, Mr and Miss Thorndyke and Lord Bowden. All the drunken louts were still abed and wouldn’t rise until noon. Lord knows who else Lady Brompton had invited.