Page 60 of The Virgin and the Viscount

“If it is my family, please tell them I have moved to the Continent.”

She did a poor job at hiding her grin. “It is not your family.” Then she moved out of the way and in walked Agnes, a frowning Fletcher following behind her.

Agnes took one look at him, then rolled her eyes heavenward. “You look terrible.”

“It’s lovely to see you, too. Please come into my home and insult me,” Sullivan said.

The couple sat on the settee across from him. The housekeeper came back in, this time rolling a cart with a refreshments tray on top.

“Thank you, Mrs. Kepling.”

She nodded, curtsied, then left the room, closing the door behind her.

“What are you doing here?” His words came out more of a growl than he intended.

“Be kind to my wife,” Fletcher said. His gaze pierced Sullivan’s. “We came all the way out to this godforsaken part of the country just for you.”

Sullivan put a hand to his chest. “I’m touched. Truly.”

“Both of you, shut up,” Agnes said. She came to her feet and began to pace. “You know all this time that you and I have been friends.” She pointed at Sullivan. “Tilly would tell me what a scoundrel you were and I argued with her. Stood up for you. Defended you. And look what you did.”

“I never asked you to defend me,” he said.

“What is wrong with you?” she continued. “Have you actually been working in tandem with Lady X to destroy the Ladies of Virtue?”

He shook his head, then forked his fingers through his hair. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Is this what that business at the club was that day?” Fletcher asked.

Agnes whirled on her husband. “You knew about this?”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, Bluebell, I didn’t know anything about Lady X. He merely came and asked questions about how Oliver and I felt about the group and it affecting your safety. We talked. We jested. That was it.”

“Tell me,” she demanded, turning back to face Sullivan. This time she came and sat and even went so far as to serve herself some tea. Fletcher put his hand on her knee protectively and eyed Sullivan.

So he told them. About all of it. His suspicions about Thomas and Roderick. About how there had been two others with them that day, one was deceased and the other Sullivan still did not know the identity of. Then about the letter from Lady X offering proof of some sort.

“Did you think to discuss any of this with Tilly? She could have assisted you,” Agnes said.

“Obviously I didn’t. And what could she have done?”

Agnes rolled her eyes. “Good Lord, have you always been this daft?”

He frowned and opened his mouth to answer. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“In those situations, it’s best if you don’t say anything,” Fletcher said.

“Did you at least tell her how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

She mumbled something about idiot men while she stirred her tea. “You’re obviously in love with her. You should have told her that. Perhaps that might have lessened the blow of your betrayal.”

Was he? In love with Tilly? Of course he was. That explained why he felt as if he hadn’t been able to breathe since she left his side. “It wouldn’t have mattered. She’ll never trust me again. And we’re at an impasse when it comes to this group of yours.” He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and letting his head fall into his hands. “I can’t let her go out and do such dangerous work. I can’t lose her like that.”

“Then go with her,” Agnes said, as if it were the most logical solution.

“What?” He glanced up at her.

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