Page 100 of A Rogue to Ruin
“Selina, would you mind accompanying me inside to the retiring room?” Anne asked.
“Not at all.” Selina gave Beatrix’s hand a squeeze and sent her a wide grin before joining Anne and going toward the house. “Deborah does her best to be awful, but we’ll find a way to turn this to our advantage.”
Anne hoped she was right. “Let’s hurry.”
They picked up their pace, and as they neared the house, Anne made eye contact with Harry, who nodded in response.
When they reached the door, Selina stopped. “I’ll leave you here. Good luck.”
“Thank you.” Anne went inside to the saloon, a large room with several seating areas. One, in a far corner, was occupied, and Deborah was lying on a chaise in another corner.
Eyes closed, with her hand draped across her forehead as if she’d fainted, Deborah looked pale. Anne had no sympathy for her.
Poking her none too gently, Anne leaned down. “Deborah.”
“What?” Deborah’s eyes fluttered open, but only barely. “Oh, Anne, it’s just you.” She closed her eyes once more.
Normally, Anne would ask after her welfare, but she had one objective, and it was imperative she complete her task. She also didn’t particularly care to make nice with Deborah and probably never would again. “Where did your father go?”
“That way.” Deborah waved her hand in no particular direction.
“Deborah, open your eyes,” Anne said sharply. “Where did he go? Show me.”
Deborah’s lids slowly lifted. She pointed to a doorway to her left. “That way.”
Towards the ballroom. Good. Anne exhaled as she went in the direction Deborah indicated. She didn’t give Deborah a second thought.
The next chamber was a sitting room with two doorways. The first led to the ballroom. Anne could see couples dancing and hear the music. It was possible he’d gone there, but Anne decided to try the other door.
As she approached, she heard voices.
“Tall, imposing bloke with the nasty scar on ’is chin. Blond, ye said?”
Anne stopped and listened, surprised at the coarse speech here of all places. They had to be talking about Rafe. Tensing, she edged closer to the door, which was open just the tiniest sliver.
“Yes. Why isn’t he dead yet?” Ludlow’s voice was easy to discern.
Fear sliced through her. She hoped Harry and North would arrive soon.
“We want the money first.”
“That was not our arrangement,” Ludlow said testily.
“What ’ave we ’ere?”
The door opened suddenly. A hand grabbed Anne by the forearm and yanked her inside. The door snapped shut behind her.
Anne gasped as all heads in the room turned toward her. Besides her godfather, there were six men, all dressed as if they belonged here at a Society ball, but judging from their speech, they clearly did not.
“I was just looking for you,” Anne said to her godfather, her heart beating wildly.
“She were listenin’,” the man holding her arm said. “I saw ’er through the crack in the door.”
Ludlow took a few steps toward her, his gaze wary. “Anne, what did you hear?”
“Nothing.” She hoped they couldn’t see the fear in her eyes or the throb of her pulse in her throat.
“She’s lyin’.” The man gripped her arm more tightly. “I can feel her shakin’.”
