Page 40 of Drawn to the Duke
Lady Saunders’ mouth dropped open but Sir Simeon interjected, his tone surprised as if he were discovering something for the first time, “I now see, on the back of the likeness, that someone has written the words:This is the man I want—” He squinted as he deciphered the writing. “Is that sentence complete? Or is there a word missing? “This is the man Iwant—” Or, should it read: “This is the man I wantdead?” He looked about him. “Or do both sentiments hold true, and if that is the case, then whoever commissioned the assassin was someone who wanted Lord Chauncy; someone who—when he displeased her—wanted him dead. Miss Boothe, did you write this?”
Selina shook her head. “There was nothing written on the back when I found it in Lady Saunders’ chamber.”
“Perhaps someone recognizes the handwriting?” Sir Simeon handed the drawing to Lord Chauncy who studied it a moment, before he looked at Lady Saunders, though he said nothing as he handed it to her husband, asking, “Familiar?”
Lord Saunders thrust it away from him. “It means nothing!” he snarled. “Only that this is another attempt to smear my good wife’s name.”
Sir Simeon conceded this with a nod. “Indeed. For what possible motivation could Lady Saunders have had for wanting His Grace dead?”
Just as Selina expected Lord Chauncy to direct an appropriately accusatory look at Lady Saunders, the door was thrust open and a breathless footman announced, “His Royal Highness The Prince Regent has arrived.”
The gathering rose as one,Sir Simeon leading the way towards the corridor before he turned and, indicating Selina and Edward, made a gesture as if to ask Lord Chauncy what he wanted done with them.
Chauncy, who had begun to follow, flanked by two footmen, stopped.
“I shall see to the matter. Please go ahead.”
Anna—for that’s the name he associated with her—remained by the fire with her brother.
She stepped forward. “Your Grace, I merely did what was asked of me. Neither Edward nor I had any desire or motive to have you harmed. Please believe me.”
Chauncy frowned. This evening’s events had him deeply rattled.
Could Catherine really have wanted him dead? That was his growing suspicion.
But at the core of his disappointment was the knowledge that Anna had hidden beneath his bed, not because she desired Chauncy but because she had been forced to capture his likeness after Catherine had stolen the original drawing.
Everything was now quite clear.
Anna had merely done what she had to save her skin.
“Please, Your Grace, I have what you wanted.”
Was she now finding a way to insinuate herself into Chauncy’s good graces, having made a fool of him?
He sent her a level look. “You don’t have anything I want… madam.”
Her trembling lip and damp lashes left him unmoved. She was clearly an adept actress.
“I have the drawing you asked for, Your Grace,” she persisted. He saw she was brandishing a piece of paper upon what he could now see was a drawing of the three suspects. Even from this distance, he could see the drawing was well executed.
Efficient.
That’s what Lady Boothe—no, Anna Boothe—was. Clever and efficient.
A woman who didn’t care what she had to do in order to get what she wanted—whether that was to lie with another man. Or lietoanother man.
Chauncy took the drawing. He tried to keep the emotion from his voice, which meant he had to turn his head away from her gaze. “I’ll see you are properly remunerated.” He didn’t mean to sound so abrasive when she began to question him.
But it was the only way to wield the upper hand when he was so dangerously close to revealing the depth of his wounding.
How could he trust her after she had lied to him?
Catherine had tried to have him killed. He was not sure of it.
Catherine, who’d pretended to love him so long as he gave her what she wanted.
He stared at the beautiful, seductive, irresistible Anna—Selina—Boothe, hardening his resolve to resist the yearning in her large, pleading eyes.
