Rendezvous (14 page)

Augusta eyed him warily. “That is very kind of you, sir, but I must insist.”

“In that case, we must arrange to discuss the matter in a more private atmosphere.” Lovejoy glanced meaningfully around at the throng that filled the lobby. “This is surely not the appropriate time or place.”

“But I have a draft for the amount with me.”

“I have just told you I cannot take your money.”

“Sir, I demand that you allow me to settle this debt.” Augusta was beginning to feel frustrated and quite desperate. “You must return my marker for the thousand pounds.”

“You want your marker back very badly, do you?”

“Well, of course I do. Please, my lord, this is very awkward.”

Lovejoy’s eyes glittered with amused malice as he appeared to consider her demand. “Very well, I think we can make arrangements. You shall have your vowels back if you care to call on me two nights hence. Say around eleven o’clock in the evening? Come alone, Miss Ballinger, and we will settle the debt.”

Augusta was suddenly chilled from head to toe as she realized what he was saying. She moistened dry lips and tried to keep her voice calm. It sounded unnaturally thin, even to her own ears. “I cannot possibly call on you alone at eleven o’clock at night. You know that very well, my lord.”

“Do not concern yourself with the little matter of your
reputation, Miss Ballinger. I assure you, I will mention your visit to no one. Least of all to your fiancé.”

“You cannot force me to do this,” she whispered.

“Come, now, Miss Ballinger. Where is that adventurous spirit and thirst for recklessness which everyone says is a family trait? Surely you are not too timid to risk a little late-night rendezvous at the home of a friend.”

“My lord, be reasonable.”

“Oh, I shall be, my dear. Most reasonable. I shall expect you at eleven, evening after next. Do not disappoint me, or I shall be obliged to make public the fact that the last of the Northumberland Ballingers does not pay her gaming debts. Think of the humiliation, Augusta. And so easily avoided by a short visit.”

Lovejoy turned and walked off into the crowd.

Augusta stared after him, her stomach churning.

“Oh, there you are, Augusta,” Claudia said as she came up behind her cousin. “Shall we join the Haywoods in their box now? It is almost time for the performance to begin and we are expected.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

Edmund Kean was as compelling on stage as always, but Augusta did not hear one word of the play. She spent the entire time trying to deal with the new twist in the disaster that had befallen her.

No matter how she viewed the situation, there was no way around the horrible fact that a note saying she owed Lovejoy a thousand pounds was in the odious man’s possession and he had no intention of returning it unless she compromised herself.

Augusta was reckless, but she was far from naive. She did not believe for one minute that Lovejoy intended her late-night visit to be a social call. The man was clearly going to demand much more of her than a little conversation.

It was clear that Lord Lovejoy was no gentleman. There was no telling what he would do with her vowels should she
fail to show two nights hence. But she had seen the chilling promise in his eyes. Sooner or later he would use her note against her in some malicious manner.

Perhaps he would go to Graystone with her marker
. Augusta closed her eyes and shuddered at the thought. Harry would be furious with her. The evidence of her foolishness would confirm all his darkest suspicions concerning her character.

It would be humiliating, but she could tell Harry the whole story now. He would be thoroughly displeased, even disgusted with her behavior. This incident would no doubt be just the impetus he needed to finally agree to allow her to call off the engagement.

That thought should have brought her a giddy sense of relief, but for some reason it did not. Augusta forced herself to examine the reason why. Surely she did not actually want the engagement to stand. She had resisted the notion right from the start.

No, she decided firmly, it was not that she still believed that marriage to Harry was a sound idea, it was simply that she did not wish to be embarrassed and humiliated in front of him.

She had her pride, after all. She was the last of the proud, daring, neck-or-nothing branch of the Ballinger clan. She would look after her own honor.

On the way home in the Haywoods’ carriage, Augusta came to a grim conclusion. She had to find a way to retrieve the incriminating gaming voucher before Lovejoy found a way to embarrass and humiliate her with it.

“Where the devil have you been, Graystone? I’ve gone to every damn ball and soiree in town tonight looking for you. You’ve got a bloody disaster on your hands and here you sit, calm as you please, drinking claret at your club.” Peter Sheldrake dropped into the chair across from Harry and continued to mutter darkly as he reached for the bottle. “I should have tried here first.”

“Yes, you should have.” Harry looked up from the notes he was making for a book on Caesar’s military campaigns. “I decided to come here for a few hands of cards before retiring for the evening. What seems to be the problem, Sheldrake? I have not seen you this agitated since the night you nearly got caught with that French officer’s wife.”

“The problem is not mine.” Peter’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “It is yours.”

Harry groaned, sensing the worst. “Are we by any chance about to discuss Augusta?”

“I fear so. Sally sent me to find you when it transpired that you were not conveniently at home. Your lady has taken up a new profession, Graystone. She is about to become a cracksman.”

Harry went cold. “The devil she is. What are you talking about, Sheldrake?”

“According to Sally, your fiancée is even now on her way to break into the house Lovejoy has leased for The Season. It seems she tried to repay her debt but Lovejoy refused to take the money. Nor would he return her marker unless she collected it in person. At his place. At eleven o’clock tomorrow evening, to be precise. She was instructed to come alone. One can imagine what he had in mind.”

“That son of a bitch.”

“Yes, I fear he is playing some rather dangerous games with your Miss Ballinger. However, never fear. Your intrepid and ever resourceful fiancée has decided to take matters into her own hands. She has gone to fetch her marker herself tonight while Lovejoy is out on the town.”

“This time I really will beat her.” Harry got to his feet, ignoring Peter’s wicked grin as he headed for the door.
Ana afterward I will deal with Lovejoy
.

Dressed for the occasion in a pair of trousers and a shirt that had once belonged to her brother, Augusta crouched
beneath Lovejoy’s garden window and surveyed the situation.

The window of Lovejoy’s small library had opened easily enough. She had been afraid she might have to smash one of the small panes of glass in order to force her way inside. But one of the servants had apparently failed to lock the window earlier in the day.

Augusta breathed a sigh of relief and took one more look around the little garden to make certain she was still unobserved. All was quiet and the windows of the floor above were still dark. Lovejoy’s small staff was either abed or out for the evening. Lovejoy himself, Sally had managed to ascertain, was at the Beltons’ soiree and would no doubt stay out until dawn.

Convinced the entire business was going to be very simple and straightforward, Augusta hopped up onto the windowsill, swung her legs over the edge, and dropped soundlessly to the carpeted floor.

She stood still for a moment, attempting to get her bearings in the dark room. The silence was oppressive. There was no sound at all from anywhere in the house. She could hear the distant clatter of carriages out in the street and the whisper of rustling leaves through the open window, but nothing else.

There was enough moonlight filtering in through the window to reveal Lovejoy’s desk and some of the furniture. A large wing chair was placed near the hearth. Two bookcases loomed in the shadows, but there was only a handful of volumes on the shelves. A large globe on a heavy wooden base stood in the corner.

Augusta glanced across the small chamber and assured herself the door was closed.

Her observations of the male sex had informed her years ago that gentlemen were strongly inclined to keep their most valuable papers locked in their library desks. Her father, brother, and uncle had all followed that policy. It was that observation that had enabled her to guess the
location of Rosalind Morrissey’s stolen journal. Augusta was certain she would find her marker in Lovejoy’s desk tonight.

It was unfortunate that she had been unable to ask Harry to come along on this venture, she thought as she went over the desk and crouched behind it. His knowledge of how to use a bit of wire to open locks would have come in handy. She wondered where he had picked up the skill.

Augusta gently tugged on the drawer, which was most definitely locked shut. She wrinkled her nose as she studied the desk. She could just imagine Harry’s reaction if she had requested his help tonight. The man had no sense of adventure.

The lock of Lovejoy’s desk was difficult to see in the shadows. Augusta toyed with the notion of lighting the taper. If she closed the drapes no one would be likely to spot the light coming from the library window.

She rose to her feet and started to search for a light source. Her back was to the open window and she was just reaching for what appeared to be a candle holder on a high shelf when she sensed a presence.
Someone else is in the library. I have been discovered
.

Shock and fear vibrated through Augusta. A cry of raw panic rose in her throat, threatening to choke her. But before she could whirl around or even utter a scream, a strong hand closed forcefully over her mouth.

“This is getting to be a most unpleasant habit,” Harry growled in her ear.

“Graystone.”
Augusta went limp with relief as his hand dropped away from her lips. “Dear God, you gave me an awful start. I thought it was Lovejoy.”

“You little fool. It easily could have been. Indeed, you may wish it had been by the time I have finished with you.”

She turned to face him and found him looming tall and dark in the shadows. He was dressed entirely in black, including black leather boots and a long, black greatcoat which concealed his clothing. He carried his ebony cane,
she noticed, but saw that for once he was not wearing a crisp white cravat. It was the first time she had ever seen him without one. Dressed in this fashion the earl blended perfectly into the darkness.

“What on earth are you doing here?” she demanded softly.

“I would have thought it obvious. I am attempting to keep my future wife out of Newgate Prison. Have you found what you came for?”

“No, I just got here. The desk is locked. I was searching for a taper when you snuck up behind me.” Augusta scowled as a thought occurred to her. “How did you know I was here?”

“That is not important at the moment.”

“Sir, you have the most unsettling way of always knowing what I am about. One would almost believe you can read minds.”

“No great feat, I assure you. Why, if you try very hard, I’ll wager you could even read mine tonight. For example, what do you believe I am thinking at this very moment, Augusta?” Harry went back to the window and closed it softly. Then he moved to the desk.

“I suspect you are rather annoyed with me, my lord,” Augusta ventured as she followed him across the room. “But I can explain everything.”

“Your explanations can come later, although I doubt that I will find them much of an excuse for this nonsense.” Harry went down on one knee behind the desk and fished a familiar-looking length of wire out of his pocket. “But first let us finish this business and be gone.”

“Excellent notion, my lord.” Augusta crouched beside him, peering intently at what he was doing. “Do you not need a taper to see what you are doing?”

“No. This is not the first desk I have opened by touch. If you will recall I had some practice on Enfield’s.”

“Yes, so you did. Which reminds me, Harry, wherever did you learn—”

There was a faint click from the small keyhole. The desk was unlocked.

“Ah,” said Harry very softly.

Augusta was filled with admiration. “Where did you learn how to do this so efficiently, my lord? I vow it is a most remarkable skill. I practiced on Uncle Thomas’s desk with one of my hairpins, but I never acquired this degree of talent.”

Harry slanted her a repressive glance as he pulled open the desk drawer. “The ability to pry open someone else’s desk is not an admirable skill. I do not consider it the sort of accomplishment a young lady should learn.”

“No, you would not, would you, Graystone? You think it is only men who should get to do the exciting things in this world.” Augusta peered into the desk drawer. She saw nothing that even remotely resembled her IOU among the neatly arranged papers. She reached out to sift through the small assortment of items in the drawer.

Harry’s hand closed over hers. “Wait. I will do the searching.”

Augusta sighed. “I assume this means you know what I am searching for, my lord?”

“Your note to Lovejoy for the thousand pounds you owe him.” Harry was sorting rapidly through the contents of the center drawer. When he found nothing, he closed it and started opening other drawers in the desk.

It was obvious Harry knew everything. Augusta decided to get an early start on her explanations. “The thing is, Graystone, it was all a mistake.”

“On that we agree. A very stupid mistake.” He finished going through the last of the drawers and straightened, frowning intently. “But we now have an even larger problem on our hands. I see no sign of your vowels.”

“Oh,
no
. I was certain he would keep them in here. Every man I have ever known keeps his valuable papers in his library desk.”

“You have either not known a great many men or you
were not privy to all of their secrets. Many men keep their valuables in a safe.” Harry started around the desk toward the bookcases.