Page 137 of In Bed with the Earl

Chapter 29

THE LONDONER

TREACHERY!

Is it any wonder with her bastardy, Miss Verity Lovelace committed the ultimate deception against Polite Society? It is a wonder, however, that her half brother, the Earl of Wakefield, paid her a call. What was discussed at thatreunion... ?

M. Fairpoint

“Where in hell have you been?” was the snarled curse Malcom found himself greeted with upon his return six hours later.

With one hand, Malcom tugged off his hat while loosening the clasp of his cloak with the other. “I had business to see to,” he said, tossing those articles to a waiting footman.

“All this time later?” Fowler snapped. “There was trouble while you were gone.”

Malcom came up short. “Verity,” he rasped, reaching for Bram.

“Aye. Slow there, lad,” Bram barked, catching Malcom by the back of his jacket. “The girl is fine. Sad. But fine.” The old tosher yanked a folded newspaper from inside his jacket front and slammed it into Malcom’s chest.

“What is this?” he asked, alternating between the silent pair.

“Ya haven’t heard about that yet?”

Heard about ... ? Following his meeting with Bolingbroke, Malcom had taken care of two important matters, the most pressing of which was seeking out Steele’s services and putting him on the task of determining ... His gaze scanned the front page of the gossip column. He cursed. “Where is she?”

“In her rooms ...” The words hadn’t even left Fowler’s mouth before Malcom was off and running, and once more, as he reached her rooms and let himself in, he hadn’t been sure what he’d expected ... but this was certainly not it.

“Hullo, Malcom.” She spoke quietly, standing alongside a tattered trunk and valise.

Malcom entered slowly. “Verity.” He clicked the door shut behind them. All the while, his pulse knocked away, skittering out of control. She intended to leave.Or does she think you intend to send her away?

Her gaze took in the scandal sheets clutched tight in his fist. “I trust you’ve seen the newspaper,” she murmured. It wasn’t a question, and yet, as he didn’t have any coherent reply in this instance, he nodded and answered anyway.

“Aye.” He relaxed his grip, and then dropped the hated pages on a nearby table.

“It was Bertha, you know.”

He froze.

Verity’s throat moved quickly, and she looked past his shoulders at the door panel behind him. “She resented you. She had a sweetheart. A tosher. A man named Alders.”

Christ.Malcom dragged an unsteady hand through his hair. “He robbed Fowler. Beat him ...”

Verity waved a hand, dismissing that defense for what he’d done. “She believed I was repeating the sins of my mother, and that you were the one responsible for taking me down that path, and she wanted us out of here.” Her voice broke. “Away from you and the arrangement we’d struck.” At last, she looked at him squarely. “She sold the story to Fairpoint, the man whom I was competing with for work. He’s been the one attempting to silence me, and Bertha helped him.” Her voice dissolved on an agonized whisper as she hugged herself.

Malcom took another step closer, wanting to take her in his arms, but she retreated, and that slight distance hit like a physical kick to the gut. Another time, rage would have clouded all reason. Now what radiated strongly first was the need to comfort. To take her close ... even as she didn’t want that offering in this instance.

All along, the woman Verity had seen as family, one whom she’d protected and cared for. And in the end, Bertha had delivered the ultimate betrayal ... Knowing Verity as he did, she’d be ravaged inside. “She wasn’t entirely wrong.”

That brought Verity’s gaze whipping over. “What?”

He took a slow, careful step closer. Wanting to be near her. Wanting to keep her close and never let her go. “I’m the one who forced you to come here. I dangled a threat over your head.”

She scoffed, and it was the first hint of her in-command self. “Malcom, I came here of my own volition, just as I searched you out each time. You didn’t make me live with you and take part in your plan. I did that all on my own.”

Aye, not even the Good Lord himself could bend Verity ’round to his thinking if Verity were of a different opinion. That conviction was just one of the reasons he’d fallen so hopelessly for her. God, how he loved her ... and if she left, he’d never recover from the loss of her. He wanted her in his life forever. If she would have him in all his imperfection. His hands went damp. And never before had he wished he was one of those urbane gentlemen with all the right words so that this moment would be the one she deserved. “Verity, there is something I would—”

“My brother came.”

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