Page 38 of Earl of Deception

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Lord Dowding dropped his hand to his side. “Let us savor the kiss we shared and then speak no more of it. Or about romance. I know this is not what you want to hear, but nothing more than friendship can come from this association.”

Jenny’s heart sank, but she took his hand in hers. “No matter what path this alliance takes, and although I would like something more, I will always remain your friend. But if you change your mind, promise you’ll seek me out.”

He smiled. “I promise.”

The sound of footsteps made Jenny take a sudden step backward, and she asked in a normal tone, “And in regard to my test, my lord?”

“You passed,” he said. “In more ways than one.”

Chapter Sixteen

The masquerade ball was scheduled to take place in just three more days. Nicholas was confident he would then be closer to gaining Lord Tulk’s confidence and thus, nearer to bringing the man to ruin.

Not only did he look forward to seeing Lord Tulk’s demise, but he was also excited at the prospect of being in the company of Miss Clifton. She was on his mind at every turn. As was their kiss.

It had been a very long time since he had delighted in such intimacies with a lovely young lady such as Miss Clifton. Her soft, supple lips tasted sweet, and hearing her whimper had woken a beast inside him that had been long dormant.

The last time he had felt such desire had been with Jane. Yet unlike Lady Ayles, he was experiencing a new set of emotions. Chords of a song he had never heard before. As much as he wished Jenny to be in his arms dancing together for the remainder of their lives, however, he could not allow it to continue. Such relationships only ended in heartbreak, and he would not see her suffer. Not by his hand. He had once believed he cared for Lady Ayles, but those feelings had been fictitious. What if the same was happening again? He cherished Jenny too much to break her heart. And that is what would come of further involvement with her.

Opening a drawer in the desk, he removed a letter from Mr. Thompson he had received several months earlier. The seal displayed a hammer within the letter T. Nicholas had no idea what the hammer symbolized, but whether it was a hammer, a rose, or a beetle, it made little difference to him. Once he completed this quest, the conspirators of evil would be devastated. Then he could move on with his life. Whatever life that would be.

Yet the identity of the mysterious accomplice still intrigued him. Over the past five years, he had heard others speak of the man, yet not one could say they had actually met him. Nor his son.

“My lord,” Osborne said with a deep bow. “Lord Walcott has arrived.”

Nicholas smiled as Henry, Lord Walcott entered the room. A widower with silver hair and a reputation for his integrity, Lord Walcott had made various offers for investments in several tenant farms he shared with Lord St. John, once known as the Baron of Rake Street.

He walked over and offered Lord Walcott his hand. “Welcome. Please, have a seat. Brandy? Or I can have Osborne bring us a nice bottle of port I just received from France.”

“Sure, why not?” Lord Walcott asked. “Let’s give this new port of yours a try.”

After Nicholas poured them each a measure, he handed a glass to his fellow earl.

Lord Walcott thanked him and took a sip. “Well, that is quite nice. So, Dowding, what did you want to see me about? Did you forget something when we last met?” They had spoken three days earlier, but Nicholas had something new to ask him. “Your message mentioned a new business opportunity. Is it another farm?”

Nicholas nodded. “Have you heard of the Notley farm?”

Lord Walcott knitted his brow. “I have.”

“I have it on good authority that it will soon be on the market. It’s in need of some work—its former tenants neglected it, and as you know, Glassington spent that last ten years in Africa. Now that he’s dead, his son plans to remain in Africa and thus wishes to unload what he sees as an encumbrance. Yet one man’s encumbrance is another man’s benediction, no?”

“These younger men can be so foolish,” Lord Walcott said, shaking his head. “If he wishes to sell, I say we take advantage of it. After all, it was once some of the best grazing lands around. It’s too bad Glassington allowed the tenants to run it into the ground.”

Nicholas lifted his glass, as well as an eyebrow. “Ah, but that means a bargain for us, so I’m not too distressed. I understand the new Glassington will be home next week, so I’ll arrange a meeting with him while he’s here. Though, I must warn you. No matter how hard I try, he’s firm on his asking price.”

Lord Walcott studied his glass. “His eagerness to return to Africa will be to our benefit. Besides, I’ve seen the state of that farm. The stable roof needs replacing, the fields are overgrown, and the animals have been living inside the cottage more than the stable itself. But there’s a tidy sum to be made once it’s back to its previous condition.”

Their conversation turned to other matters, and as the minutes ticked by, Nicholas struggled to keep his focus. His mind kept returning to Miss Clifton, Lord Tulk, and the masquerade ball.

“Is all well with you, Dowding?” Lord Walcott asked. “You seem distracted.”

Nicholas sighed and leaned his elbows on his knees. This was the true reason he had asked Henry to return. “Are you familiar with the school run by Mrs. Rutley?”

“Yes, very familiar.”

“I’ve become well acquainted with one of the students there. One who has captured my attention.”

Lord Walcott gave him a knowing smile. “That’s a good thing, is it not? Do you enjoy each other’s company? Or does this young lady not return your admiration?”


Tags: Jennifer Monroe Historical