Page 49 of Rakes & Reticules
What was her ladyship up to?
Had Huxley put her up to this?
For what purpose?
The viscountess made a pretense of looking around. “Your husband is not present, Mrs. McKinney?”
Siobhan appeared suitably sober. “I am widowed, your ladyship.”
“Oh, that’s right. Forgive me. My husband mentioned that the other night.” Lady Huxley gave an artificial laugh. “How silly of me to have forgotten.”
Why would Huxley make a point of informing his wife about Siobhan? Particularly if he’d formed a romantic interest in her?
To boast? Gloat?
From all accounts, he was a warped ponce.
Lady Huxley sidled closer, inspecting Siobhan with an intensity that made Fletcher’s nape hairs stand on end.
“You seem familiar to me, Mrs. McKinney. I feel quite sure we’ve met before.”
Hell’s bells.
“We could not have done.” Forming a small smile, Siobhan remained admirably composed. “I have only recently arrived from Ireland, and Lord Darius has been charged with showing me the sights as a favor to our mothers.”
“Hmm, I could have sworn.” After a final lingering look, Lady Huxley clasped Fletcher’s arm. “Let’s have that dance, shall we?”
Without a word, he swirled her onto the dancefloor.
“She’s a pretty little thing but too thin and pale.” Lady Huxley couldn’t quite conceal her jealousy. “I knowyouprefer your women voluptuous and exotic.”
He had. Until Siobhan.
“Mrs. McKinney?” Fletcher puzzled his forehead but refrained from glancing toward Siobhan. “She twisted her ankle earlier. Likely, that is the cause of her pallor. I was checking on her when you arrived.”
“Your brother couldn’t have done so?” There was the jealousy the viscountess unsuccessfully tried to hide.
“He ate something that didn’t agree with him and excused himself to lie down for a while.” In truth, Darius was perfectly well and, hopefully as planned, at this very moment, offered Huxley’s driver a flask of whisky to loosen his tongue. “I imagine they will call it an early evening.”
“She rather looks like a waif sitting there.” Her ladyship tightened her mouth. “Huxley seemed quite taken with her, but I confess, I do not see the appeal.”
That she could casually speak about her husband’s fascination with another woman said much about the state of the viscountess and viscount’s marriage.
“I feared you weren’t returning and confess, felt great regret that it might be so.” Rather than respond to her criticism, Fletcher side-stepped a couple, displaying more exuberance than dancing skill. “Are you well?”
Lady Huxley gave a wary glance around, then nodded.
“Fletcher, Huxley is suspicious. We must tread carefully.”
That complicated things to no end.
“You know I want to help you, Samantha,” Fletcher murmured for her ears alone. “I cannot unless you trust me.”
“He beat me. I am covered in bruises, though he makes sure they are where no one can see them. That’s why we haven’t been in attendance.” She raised misty eyes to him as they turned upon the floor. “He’s not sane. He’s sworn to destroy you.”
And Fletcher still didn’t know why.
He must get her away from her husband, but not until he had concrete proof. Somehow, he must persuade her tonight to tell all.
