Page 27 of Taken to the Grave
“I can’t imagine what the duke would find off-putting about the prince’s close friend, Your Majesty,” Audrey went on. The topic of Lord Stromburg had seemed to put the princess off her stride. She sniffed.
“They are not as close as Stromburg would like to believe. Your Grace, I hope you will convince your duke to not seek out his company the next time Stromburg visits. His taste in vice is wholly disreputable.”
Audrey held her breath as Lady Beauchamp and the other two ladies watched the exchange with voracious interest. Vice? It put her in mind of the gaming hell where Hugh was that very moment.
Genie blinked, taken aback. “Thank you for the advice, Your Majesty.”
“My goodness,” Audrey said. “Vice of what sort?”
Lady Beauchamp and the others now trained their fascination, touched by disapproval, onto Audrey. It seemed she’d pushed too far in her quest for information.
Princess Esterhazy leveled her with a censorious look. “Ladies do not speak of such things in detail. However, perhaps your curiosity is not entirely your fault. After so much exposure to scandal, one must find oneself prone to spectacles.”
Audrey sealed her lips, properly rebuked. She would not expect that voucher to Almack’s now. Nor did she want it.
“Your Majesty,” Genie murmured as the princess gave them a dismissing nod and turned to seek a new conversation.
“You’re going to have to explain yourself,” Genie said as soon as they were alone. “Michael is sure to ask questions too.”
As she watched Princess Esterhazy be absorbed into another throng of guests, her eyes connected with a man standing near them. He was already staring intently at Audrey, a grimace creasing his cheeks. He made no effort to alter his glowering expression as he lifted his drink to his mouth.
Audrey’s pulse stuttered.
The man’s cufflink stood in stark contrast to the crisp white shirtsleeve peeking out from the cuff of his black dinner jacket. The cufflink was a disc of black onyx inlaid with a white, inverted cross. Just like the coach door she’d seen in her vision of Mr. Givens. The two threatening men had come from that coach, she was certain of it. That symbol… Seeing it again, on these cufflinks, wasn’t a coincidence.
“Who is that man?” Audrey asked Genie softly as she turned from his targeted stare. “The man with the glass to his lips, the swallow tail jacket with velvet trim. Don’t look at him directly.”
Genie averted her eyes at the last moment; probably much too late.
“That is Sir Oliver Pendleton. What is going on here, Audrey?”
Though she considered making her way over to Sir Oliver and ingratiating herself into conversation with him in order to find out what he knew, the hostile glare stopped her. Had he overheard her conversation with the princess? Her questions about Lord Stromburg?
“I promise I’ll explain, just not here,” Audrey whispered to her sister-in-law. “For now, tell me what you know about Sir Oliver.”
Chapter
Nine
“If my membership is revoked tonight because you insisted on being an idiot, I will never take you anywhere again.” Thornton thrust out his arm, barring Hugh from taking another step toward the front doors to the Seven Sins. “I am entirely serious.”
Hugh pushed down his friend’s arm. “I can behave myself when I want to.”
Thornton had grumbled when Hugh turned up at his St. James’s Square residence and laid out his plan for the evening. He was not a member of the gaming hell, but Thornton was. After a long-winded lecture on conducting himself better than he had the night Thornton had taken him to the opera, when Audrey had wanted to bump into Lord St. John during the investigation into Miss Lovejoy’s murder, he’d agreed to sponsor Hugh for the evening.
“No stumbling around, pretending to be drunk, and lifting people’s pocket watches,” Thornton added, with a roll of his eyes. It was what Hugh had done at the opera; he’d pickpocketed St. John to give Audrey something of his to hold and read the way she could other objects. Unfortunately, Thornton had beenfar cleverer than St. John and had seen him do it.It’s possible evidence, was all Hugh had said in explanation. His friend had glared balefully at him, not entirely believing it. But he hadn’t asked more questions.
Not so tonight.
“What exactly are you looking for in here? Do you really think anyone is going to talk to you about Givens or Comstock? These types of places are notoriously private, especially about members, presentandpast.”
“I’m looking for whatever I can find. That can’t be done if I don’t even try.”
Thornton grumbled as the door to the Seven Sins opened, revealing a large, broad-shouldered porter. The man’s lips turned down into a grimace.
“Gaming piece,” he ordered. Thornton removed the opium locket from his pocket and held it out to the man. The porter took a long, close look at it. Then turned to Hugh, expecting his.
“I am sponsoring this gentleman for the evening,” Thornton said, his lackadaisical tone intentional. He was a damn fine liar.
