Two Shades of Seduction (30 page)

Now, the sight of her holding court again crushed that hope. Hamilton gestured that they move to a more secluded spot in the ballroom, and Quentin followed his brother-in-law’s lead. From a small alcove, Quentin kept his eye on Sophie and her entourage.

“You need to give Sophie time to consider what happened here tonight, and the fact that you’ve turned the ledgers over to the authorities.”

“I haven’t told her about the ledgers.”

Quentin grimaced at the expression on his brother-in-law’s face. Hamilton clearly thought him an idiot, and with good reason. If Sophie believed he still had the ledgers, it was reasonable to assume she would think his revenge was more important to him than she was.

His jaw tightened as that realization sank its way into his brain. There was a strong possibility that Sophie might believe he’d staged his humiliating snub of Eleanor for her benefit. Damnit to hell, what could he do to make things right with his wife?

“I see you understand your dilemma,” Hamilton said with a resigned sigh. “Might I make a suggestion where my sister is concerned?
Send her a goddamn note explaining you’ve disposed of the ledgers
.”

Quentin nodded at Hamilton’s heatedly spoken instructions. The inspector at Scotland Yard had wanted to know how he’d come by the ledgers, but he’d refused to tell them. He had no intention of embroiling Sophie in what was certain to be a scandal when Townsend was brought to trial.

It was bad enough that he’d most likely have to testify against the man. That alone would cause a flurry of gossip. But perhaps Inspector Harris might prove useful. The man had requested to see Quentin in order to ask a few more questions. If the inspector were to visit Devlyn House, it would ensure Sophie would discover he’d given up the ledgers.

“A note from me might prove less effective than Scotland Yard asking to see me in regard to the ledgers.”

“Scotland Yard,” Hamilton bit out. “Are you intent on terrorizing my sister?”

“No. Inspector Harris sent word that he has a few more questions to ask me. I’ll simply instruct him to visit me at Devlyn House. Sophie will inform him I’m staying at my club, but will realize I’ve turned the ledgers over to the authorities.” Quentin’s explanation made his brother-in-law frown then nod his head.

“That might work,” Hamilton said. “But so help me, God, Devlyn, if you hurt her, I’ll make good on that promise I made you that day at the woodcutter’s cottage.”

“Understood.” Quentin clenched his jaw at his brother-in-law’s words. Any punishment Hamilton thought to administer wouldn’t touch the hell he’d fall into if he failed to keep Sophie safe. “Do you know what her plans are for tomorrow night? I’ve been reduced to watching my front door just to follow her when she leaves the house.”

“She asked me to escort her to the opera.” Hamilton said with a wry twist of his lips.

“Bloody hell, she knows I hate the theater.”

“It’s why she decided to attend. She says it’s the one place she’s certain you won’t haunt her.”

So she wasn’t completely immune to his presence. Relief sped through him at the knowledge. Could Hamilton be right? Did Sophie actually love with him? The idea bolstered his spirits immensely. The sound of his brother-in-law speaking interrupted his thoughts.

“What did you say?” His question made Hamilton shake his head with amused annoyance.

“I said you can use Revelstoke’s box at the opera since Sophie will be in yours,” Quentin’s brother-in-law said quietly. “The man is on the continent and offered me the use of his box whenever I like. It’s directly across from yours, and when you see me leave, you’ll be free to join Sophie.”

“If she even lets me into the box.”

“I don’t think she’ll protest your arrival. And even if she does, she won’t make a scene.”

Quentin nodded his understanding. Tomorrow night he’d be given one last chance to convince his beautiful wife that he was innocent. And if she believed him, he’d make sure his lovely wife knew precisely how much he loved her. The thought that she might not forgive him made his body hardened with tension. He wouldn’t consider failure. It wasn’t an option.

T
he front doorbell rang, and Sophie’s heart skipped a beat as she looked up from the weekly household accounts. Quentin. He’d come in spite of her telling him not too. A part of her desperately wanted the visitor to be him. The other half of her screamed it would be too dangerous to let him anywhere near her. When Thomas, the new footman, appeared in the salon doorway, he bowed slightly.

“My apologies, my lady, an Inspector Harris from Scotland Yard is here to see his lordship. I told him Lord Devlyn wasn’t here, and he asked to speak with you.”

“Send him in, Thomas,” she said with a small wave of her hand.

Scotland Yard? She frowned in puzzlement before a chill swept its way over her body. Had her father realized Quentin had the ledgers and solicited a police inquiry? Her heart in her mouth, she stood up and moved to the center of the room. As the inspector entered the salon, she forced a smile to her lips.

“How may I help you, Inspector?”

“I was looking for his lordship, and I thought you might be able to tell me where I could find him.”

“Of course, Lord Devlyn is at his club,” she said quietly. “Might I ask why you wish to speak with my husband?”

“It’s quite routine, my lady. We’re investigating some ledgers he provided us with almost a month ago.”

“Ledgers?” she rasped as she stared at the inspector in amazement. Dear God, Quentin had given Scotland Yard the second copy of her father’s books. And he’d done so either before or after that terrible night.

“Yes, my lady. The ledgers contain a vast amount of entries that relate to fraud and theft. His lordship hasn’t elaborated how he came by the ledgers, and I was hoping to persuade him to tell us,” the inspector said in a matter-of-fact voice. “It would be most helpful to have a first-hand witness.”

“I see.”

“Would you happen to know anything about these account books, my lady?”

Sophie’s mind was racing along like a train out of control. Quentin hadn’t just turned the ledgers over. He was protecting her as well by not telling the police about her involvement. Her eyes met the inspector’s inquisitive gaze. Did she dare tell him the truth? If she didn’t, would that put Quentin in jeopardy?

She’d been struggling all morning with the memory of Quentin brutally humiliating Eleanor at the Manchester soirée the night before. Now this. It made her think she might have misjudged Quentin. A skeptical voice in her head mocked her with the memory of that night she’d found Eleanor at Quentin’s feet. She swallowed the knot in her throat. No matter what his offense, she couldn’t allow him to suffer any consequences for turning over the ledgers to Scotland Yard.

“If these ledgers are the ones I think they are, inspector, then my answer to your question is yes.”

“Yes?” Inspector Harris looked a bit surprised by her admission, and she waved a hand toward the sofa.

“Please, won’t you sit down, inspector,” Sophie said quietly. “I am happy to tell you what I know.”

More than an hour later, Inspector Harris closed his small notebook and rose to his feet. Sophie rose from her chair as well, and clasped her hands in front of her. The moment of truth had come. Would she be found culpable for the baron’s misdeeds? She took a deep breath as she looked directly at the inspector.

“Do you expect to charge me as an accomplice to Baron Townsend’s illicit activities, Inspector Harris?” Her question caused the man to stare at her in surprise.

“Of course not, my lady. Unless we find evidence that you profited from the baron’s activities, you’re innocent since Lord Townsend was forcing you to participate under the threat of physical reprisals.” The inspector stuffed his notebook in the inside pocket of his jacket then picked up his bowler hat. “I’m also certain the courts will look favorably on you for tracking the baron’s illegal activities.”

“Thank you.” Sophie exhaled a soft sigh of relief. “Should I expect to be summoned as a witness at my… Baron Townsend’s trial?”

“I don’t know, my lady. It’s possible we won’t have to involve you, but I can make no promises.”

“I understand,” Sophie smiled slightly.

“If I might add, my lady, I can now appreciate why his lordship refused to tell us who gave him the books. It’s obvious he was protecting you not only from scandal, but from physical harm as well given the baron’s apparent tendency toward violence.”

“Thank you for that, inspector. I appreciate your candor.”

“Not at all, my lady, I’ll bid you good day.” The inspector bowed and headed for the door. “Oh, one more thing, my lady. If you will, please inform his lordship that I’ll meet up with him at a different time.”

“I am happy to relay that message to my husband.”

As the inspector left the salon, Sophie slowly sank down into her chair. Quentin had given up the ledgers. He’d not used them in a plot to ruin her father. Why would he do that? He’d told her that he wouldn’t be persuaded from seeking vengeance. And yet, he’d given away the one tool that would let him destroy the man who’d ruined him.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she remembered the way Quentin had arrogantly forced Sir Archibald to release her so he could take the other man’s place. Despite her anger at his actions, a small part of her had remembered other times when his arrogant behavior had thrilled her. And as much as she hated to admit it, she hadn’t minded that Sir Archibald had been disposed of so neatly. The man was a boor, and she was growing increasingly weary of his presence.

Sophie closed her eyes as the sound of Quentin’s voice echoed in her head. ‘
It’s obvious to the entire set that the Countess of Devlyn loathes her husband, while he, on the other hand, adores his wife.’
She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out the letter Quentin had written to her. The parchment was crumpled and well-worn from her carrying the note with her everywhere. She unfolded the letter and stared at the words she knew by heart.

Her gaze focused on the last two lines of the letter. Last night he’d said he adored her, and it only reinforced the sentiment of the note’s final lines. Was it possible he loved her? She winced at the thought. She might be reading too much into his words last night and the words in his letter.

While she might easily be mistaken about his affection for her, his exchange with Eleanor last night only served to reinforce the impression that he’d been telling her the truth all along. Tears welled up in her eyes as her heart wrenched painfully in her chest. Sophie covered her mouth with her hand to smother the small cry of sorrow that escaped her. Oh God, what was she going to do?

§  §  §

The crowd at the Alhambra was larger than usual, and Sophie found herself wishing she’d stayed at home as she’d decided earlier that morning. But when Spencer had paid her a visit later in the day, he’d reminded her that the opera was the one place she could be free of Quentin hounding her steps. It would be the first time in weeks where she wouldn’t be looking over her shoulder.

As she took her seat, Spencer sat down next to her. Her brother leaned forward to speak to someone in the next box, and she opened her program. Tonight was an opera she’d seen before, and it only emphasized the fact that she should have simply spent the night at home. With a flip of her wrist, she opened her fan to stir the air in front of her.

“There’s a young lady I wish to see, but I’ll return shortly.” Spencer patted her hand and eyed her with concern. “You’ll be all right until I return?”

“Of course,” she said with amusement. “I’m quite capable of fending off any unwanted attention.”

“All right.” Spencer leaned forward to kiss her cheek then left the box.

Her brother had only been gone a few minutes when she heard the door behind her open. She didn’t bother to turn around to greet him. Instead, she peered over the box’s railing to study the crowd.

“Good evening, Sophie.” The familiar voice made her sit up straight in a sharp, sweeping movement, and she turned her head to meet Quentin’s steady gaze.

“What are you doing here?” she choked out. “You don’t even
like
opera.”

“No, I don’t. But you do, and I’m trying to show you how much I love you by enduring the wailing that will no doubt go on for an interminable amount of time.”

His confession made her heart weep, and she quickly swung her gaze back to the crowd below. She’d almost laughed at his obvious discomfort before her mood quickly sobered. The last time they were in this box together her life had fallen apart in a way that had been devastating.

“I have something for you.”

She turned her head to see him pull out a small sheaf of papers from inside his coat pocket. Silently he offered them to her. Sophie accepted the leaflets.

“What are they?” she asked as she glanced down at the clippings.

“Scandal sheets from the morning after the night Eleanor put a wedge between us.”

Sophie looked down at the small articles and bent her head to read. Quentin’s forefinger tapped on the edge of the paper.