Page 55 of When He Was a Duke
“Christ, Hale. You nearly gave me heart failure.”
“Apologies. I’ve been looking for you.” Hale stepped closer, and Sebastian noticed he carried a folded paper in his hand. “Heard you’d slipped away from the others.”
“Needed some quiet,” Sebastian said, embarrassed to be caught talking to his horse like a madman. “What’s that you have there?”
Hale’s expression grew grim. “Information. About Baron White.” He glanced toward the stable doors, then lowered his voice. “I’ve had a man making inquiries in London. Discreetly.”
“And?”
“It’s worse than we suspected.” Hale unfolded the paper, though he didn’t look at it. “The devil has a history. A long, ugly history that’s been covered up with money and influence.”
Sebastian’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground together. “What kind of history?”
“The kind that involves young women. Servants, mostly. Girls with no power, no protection.” Hale’s voice was tight with controlled anger. “My contact found records—payments to families, sudden departures, accidents that weren’t accidents.”
“How many?” Sebastian asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
“At least six that we can verify. Probably more.” Hale met his eyes. “One girl was barely sixteen. Worked at his London house. Got herself with child—his child, most likely—and tried to tell someone about it. A week later, she was found drowned in the Thames. They said it was a suicide but who knows?”
The rage that hit Sebastian was so sudden and fierce it nearly knocked him backward. His hands clenched into fists, and for a moment he saw white at the edges of his vision.
“Easy,” Hale said quietly. “I know. I felt the same way when I read it.”
“We can’t let him have her,” Sebastian said through gritted teeth. “I don’t care what it costs. Rose will not become another name on that list.” He paused, thinking about how to tell Hale about his morning encounter with White. “I had an incident with White this morning. In the rose garden.”
Hale’s eyebrows shot up. “What kind of incident?”
Sebastian told him everything—White’s assault on Rose, the garden shears, the desperate bluff about being Talbot’s spy. With each detail, Hale’s expression grew darker.
“Heaven forbid, Sebastian. You could have been killed.”
“He had his hands on her,” Sebastian said simply. “I would have done worse if necessary.”
Hale was quiet for a long moment. “You know this changes things. White will be watching you now, looking for any excuse to have you removed.”
“Let him watch. I meant what I told him. As long as I’m here and safe, so is he. But if anything happens to me…”
“Then what? You’re bluffing with cards you don’t have.”
Sebastian’s smile was sharp and cold. “Am I? White doesn’t know that. His guilty conscience is doing half the work for me.”
“Still, we’re working on borrowed time now.” Hale folded the paper and tucked it back into his coat. “Which is why I have a proposal. You may not like it.”
“I’m listening.”
“The masquerade ball is in three days. I want you to attend.”
Sebastian stared at him. “As what? A guest?”
“Exactly. I have a contact—Mr. Nathaniel Clarke, son of a wealthy merchant. His family was ruined by White’s business practices, so he’s more than happy to lend us his invitation. You’ll wear his name and a mask that covers your entire face.”
“And do what? Dance the night away while Rose is trapped with that monster?”
“Gather information. These men become loose-tongued when they’re drinking and think they’re among friends. You might overhear something useful.” Hale paused meaningfully. “You’ll be able to keep an eye on Rose. Make sure White doesn’t corner her again.”
Sebastian’s pulse quickened at the thought. To be near her, to speak with her without the barrier of their supposed class difference, even for one night, was a dream too good to be true.
“It’s dangerous,” he said, more to himself than to Hale. “If I’m discovered.”
