Page 4 of The Proposition
“Not necessary.” Audric waved him off. Not necessary at all. The bumbling young man would draw only more attention. Here, he wanted to be as vapor. As smoke. There and gone again, and never remembered. “I will make my own way. Billiards room?”
The young man’s eyes blew wide with surprise, but he composed himself, bowed, and gestured to the right. “Follow through to the gallery, then you will find it the second door on your left.”
Audric set off, wading into the crush of rustling skirts and wine-red faces, expensive perfume wafted by swishing fans. A quartet in the main ballroom played a sprightly tune, while more quietly in this sitting room a girl hammered artlessly away at an étude. Her friends and suitor were delighted. Audric cut a path through it all, and most let him pass. He was hard to miss, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in sober black, cut to perfection. If ladies eyed him as he passed, hedid not care to notice, and his doggedness instantly dissuaded them. Only three people in Harrop Hall were of any interest to him that night—his cousin, his quarry, and the quarry’s woman.
Everyone else in the estate might have been just set dressing for the drama to unfold, papier-mâché dolls, as far as he was concerned.
His cousin would be in the billiards room, and so that was his first destination. He kept a wary eye on the moving heads before him, aware that he might stumble upon his target at any moment. Not that it would necessarily change anything. The blaggard had no idea what he looked like, or that he was coming, or the myriad ways Audric would make him suffer.
Still. Audric was a man who could appreciate the poetry of things. The symbolism. He wanted it all to unfold just so, for this to be like any satisfying revenge story, a quiet simmer to start, a roaring boil later. His other hunts were to satisfy a client, but this was just for him. It would somewhat spoil things if he were to blunder into the man now, instead of making a precise and calculated introduction at the time and place of his choosing.
He did not yet know if he would savor the kill, but oh how the pursuit would sustain him.
The music from the ballroom grew louder as he sidled by two open doors in the gallery that gave a glimpse of the rows of dancers merrily skipping toward one another and taking hands. Audric could not remember the last time he had danced at such an event; he expected it never to happen again. His was no longer a soul for dancing; it required adegree of buoyancy that he simply did not possess. The quartet no doubt played well, but to him it all sounded hopelessly out of tune.
Thankfully, the billiards room was less full. All the men were wanted on the dance floor, apparently. He spotted his cousin at once, a man of four and thirty, with thick black hair curling down to his shoulders and full, ruddy cheeks. He had the signature Ferrand ink-black hair and shockingly bright green eyes, inherited from Audric’s aunt, Cecile. She was long dead, but the family resemblance endured, strong enough to mark Frank Greer as his blood even though they had not seen each other in many years.
“By God! You really have come!” Frank caught sight of him while watching a game, sipping from a small crystal glass. He strode across the deep red carpet, reaching to clasp Audric by the hand. “Cousin. You look well! Or tall. Tall and well. How long has it been? God. Too long! Sixteen years at least.”
“At least,” Audric agreed, stiffly accepting his cousin’s hand and shaking it.
“And how do you find Sussex?” Frank asked, stepping back to look Audric over from top to bottom. His eyes sparkled. “Is Delphine with you?”
Audric frowned. “No. She is at the inn with my man.”
“Heathfield?”
“Obviously.” Audric glanced around the room, making certain his target was not there.
“Are you looking for someone, Cousin? Whom else could you possibly know here?” Frank laughed and steered him toward the liquor cabinet near the two billiards tables, bothoccupied with players that gave Audric a quick once-over, brows raised in curiosity. “Ah! But that is on me, yes? I must make introductions. You are not yet a married man, and there are so many young ladies here that would cherish your company, no?”
“No.” Audric allowed him to press a glass of wine into his hand. In truth, he had no interest in courtship or flirtation, only a single-minded need to find one woman in particular. “There is only one lady I should like very much to meet.”
Frank huffed, eyes widening as he clapped Audric playfully on the back. He seemed to notice how much Audric disliked it and immediately withdrew his hand as if burned. “Do tell, Cousin. I am at your disposal. I must say, it is damn wonderful to see you again. Have you given up Fox Ridge for good? Have you been in Calais all this time? Your accent is not as strong as I expected.”
He had forgotten that Cousin Frank was a little light on brains. Already his attention wavered. Audric sniffed the wine, deciding it was decent enough to drink. “Fox Ridge has not interested me in some years. Alas, I am never in one place for very long, though I hope to change that.”
“Yes! The estate!” Frank hurried to finish his sherry and went to pour another. The clack and thump of billiards continued around them. Men came and went, retiring to rest from the dance, refresh a drink, then loom in the doorway and watch the ladies drifting by like swans on a lazy river. “I think Beswick might suit you and Delphine; it has a perfect view of the river. Or Ashford, since you so adore the hunt; the birds are better, and I’m told the grounds are in excellent condition….”
“Delphine would quite enjoy a river,” Audric told him coolly. “Beswick will suit us well, I am sure. As you might imagine, arrangements must be made tonight.”
“T-Tonight?” Frank’s eyes bugged. “But…”
“I am not leaving Delphine in town one more night.”
“Right. Of course. Tonight then. I do wish you had brought her,” Frank said with a sigh. “Was she not well enough to attend?”
“Her frailties keep her much indoors,” he replied.
“Pity that, she might have made some lovely new acquaintances.” Frank seemed to finally circle back to Audric’s previous concern, his mouth dropping open as he guffawed. “Too much sherry, I suppose, forgot entirely that you wanted to meet someone here. Who might you be interested in?”
Audric didn’t appreciate his tone. But of course his cousin would speculate. He was a single man of fortune about to take another great country house; Frank would be stupid not to wonder. And actually, Frank was closer to the truth than he might know.
But Audric chose his words carefully. The plot had begun in earnest now. The curtain was rising. All that remained was for Audric to find the players and put them on the stage. “I am told Clemency Fry is passably fair. Do the society gossips in London have it true?”
“They do, they do,” Frank snorted into his sherry, eyeing Audric all the while with reddening cheeks. “Fair as a June morning, with the most brilliant gray eyes…She and any other lady here would be glad to make your acquaintance, with you as rich as Croesus.”
Audric granted him a thin smile. “I have done some modest business in Marseille, certainly.”
