A Breath of Scandal (12 page)

Two cups of strong tea diluted with rich cream did the trick. Even the toasted bread tasted good. Julian was in a much better mood when he sank down into the tub of hot water. After his bath, Ames shaved him and helped him into tight black breeches, ruffled white shirt, black jacket, and polished Hessians. Julian observed himself in the mirror. Nothing about his very proper image reminded him of Drago the Gypsy.

Emma was waiting for him in the breakfast room, seated in her normal place. She was attractively attired in a pale violet day gown that emphasized the deep purple of her eyes. The sweetheart neckline showed the barest hint of rounded breasts, reminding Julian that Emma was all grown up. He bent and kissed the top of her head. “Good morning, Emma. Where’s Aunt Amanda this morning?”

“Good morning,” Emma said without warmth. “Aunt Amanda is still abed, and it’s a good thing. I wouldn’t want her to hear this conversation. What have you got to say for yourself, Julian? What am I to think when you disappear for weeks at a time without a word in the interim?”

Julian knew he deserved the rebuke, but Emma’s words stung nevertheless. He was aware that his absences bothered Emma, but there was little he could do about it unless he removed himself from government service. And he wasn’t ready to do that yet.

“Answer me, Julian,” Emma demanded. “What will you tell Sinjun? He’ll arrive in London soon.”

“Sinjun won’t be arriving in London,” Julian explained. “I saw him but four days past and sent him back to Glenmoor.”

“You saw Sinjun? Where?”

“I … ran into him at a fair in Lockerbie. He heard about the unusually fine string of horses offered for sale at the fair and made a detour to look them over.”

Emma’s finely etched brows edged upward. “What were
you
doing at the fair?”

“That, my nosy little sister, is none of your business.”

Julian helped himself to food from the sideboard and took his usual place at the head of the table. “How is Aunt Amanda?”

“Well. What a dear she is. I don’t know how I would have managed without her after you and Sinjun abandoned me.”

Julian sent her a sharp look. “You haven’t been abandoned, dear. I expect to remain in London for an indefinite period of time. I’ll be on hand to escort you and Aunt Amanda to all the functions you ladies seem to dote upon.”

“I wouldn’t want you to put yourself out,” Emma huffed. “We have a perfectly good escort in Viscount Blakely. Rudy has been wonderfully accommodating during your absence.”

Julian’s dander rose. “Lord Blakely is hardly the escort I would choose for you, Emma dear. His reputation as a rake and womanizer is well documented. Have you forgotten his escapades with Sinjun? Your brother has reformed, but Blakely has shown no signs of changing his wicked ways.”

“Rudy has been nothing but a gentleman,” Emma sniffed.

“Nevertheless, I must curtail Blakely’s visits now that I am home.”

Emma rose abruptly, tossing her napkin into her plate. “I’m not a child, Julian. Why must you be such an ogre? Is your own life so bereft of human kindness and companionship that you wish the same for me?” She stomped her foot. “I won’t have it, Julian! I will continue to see Rudy and you can’t stop me.”

Julian’s mouth hung open as Emma charged from the room. What in bloody hell had happened during his absence? How had Blakely gotten so close to Emma? Where was the relationship headed? If Blakely compromised his sister, he’d have his head on a platter.

Julian’s fierce expression eased when Aunt Amanda breezed into the breakfast room.

“Julian. How wonderful to have you back. Emma told me you’d returned. Whatever did you say to deserve her ire?”

“I’ve forbidden her to continue her association with Viscount Blakely. You’re looking well,” he continued, adroitly changing the subject. “I hope my spirited sister hasn’t been too much of a handful for you.”

“Never! Emma is a sweet, lovable young lady. She makes me feel young again.” She paused, sending Julian a piercing look. “What do you have against Lord Blakely? He has been kind and generous to us. His escort has been much appreciated during your absence. Sinjun asked him to watch over Emma while you were away from London, and the dear, sweet boy has done just that.”

“Are we speaking about the same Lord Blakely?” Julian asked, aghast. “Blakely and Sinjun are cut from the same cloth.”

“Sinjun reformed, so can Rudy,” Amanda argued.

“Nevertheless, we can dispense with Blakely’s company now that I’m home.”

“Hmmm, whatever you say, Julian,” Amanda said, blinking innocently.

Julian finished his breakfast while Amanda chatted about nothing of importance. He listened with half an ear as he made a mental note of all the things he had to discuss with William Randall, the Earl of Chatham, when he reported his findings.

Julian left the breakfast room and went directly to his study, where he pored over the records forwarded to him by his estate manager at Thornton Hall. Everything seemed to be in order there. His other properties were also doing well. He read the exchange report and was pleased to learn that his investments were prospering. All in all, the Thornton family fortune was healthy and growing.

After luncheon, Julian ordered his carriage and drove to Whitehall to report to Randall. He cooled his heels but a short time before being admitted into Randall’s office.

“Lord Mansfield,” Randall greeted warmly. “I began to fear you had met with foul play. Sit down. I’m most anxious to hear your report. Brandy?”

Julian nodded. Randall filled two snifters and handed one to Julian. Julian rolled the amber liquid around in his snifter, then downed it in one gulp. Thus fortified, he launched into his report.

“The smugglers had access to secret information, my lord. They were expecting an agent to infiltrate their ranks. I was recognized and apprehended while loading contraband with the villagers. They took me aboard their ship. The Jackal was there. I saw him but not clearly enough to identify him. I do know this: He is a person of importance, and privy to our plans.”

Randall leaned forward in his seat. “You say you didn’t recognize the Jackal?”

“It was dark, and his face was shadowed. I was wounded trying to escape and taken aboard ship unconscious. The Jackal knew I’d be there, and that a reception awaited the smugglers in Cornwall. They bypassed their usual drop-off point and unloaded their contraband on a desolate beach near Dumfries in Scotland.”

“I’m glad you survived to tell the story. But how did you escape? And where have you been these past weeks?”

“I dove into the Bay of Solway before the ship landed and took a bullet or two. I don’t recall much after that, until I came to in a Gypsy wagon.”

“Gypsy wagon,” Randall repeated, obviously intrigued.

“Aye. One of their women found me on the beach and had me carried to their camp. There, an old woman treated my wounds. She saved my life. I stayed with them until my wounds were healed.”

“Do you suppose the Jackal believes you perished in the sea?”

“I don’t know. He sent his cohorts to the Gypsy camp looking for me, but they protected me. Now that I’m back in London, I intend to find the traitor in our ranks. He’s raking in profits that rightfully belong to the government.”

Julian knew that Randall believed Great Britain’s destiny was to become the greatest trading nation in the world, and that he would stop at nothing to see his country reach its goal. Julian hoped that appealing to Randall on that level would convince him to allow Julian to continue his investigation.

“Scorpion has been exposed,” Randall mused thoughtfully. “Continuing your investigation could place your life in grave danger. I’ll assign another man to the Jackal.”

“No!” Julian protested. “You know my history, my lord. The Jackal killed my fiancée. I was the one who was supposed to die in that carriage accident. I am convinced the Jackal is aware of my identity, but that’s all the more reason I should continue. I will be more vigilant now. My presence in London will bring the Jackal out of hiding.”

“I don’t know,” Randall said doubtfully. “ ’Tis too risky. I’ve grown fond of you, Julian.”

“I have no intention of dying,” Julian said tensely, “but catching a traitor is more important than my life. Here is my plan. I will attend every function, every public and private affair. Become a decoy, so to speak. The Jackal won’t be able to resist another attempt on my life. This time I will be ready for him. This time there is no fiancée to hurt. There is only my sister, and I can send her to Sinjun in Scotland.”

Randall stroked his chin, deep in contemplation. Julian sat on the edge of his chair, waiting for Randall’s decision.

“The Jackal must be stopped,” he said determinedly. “We are no closer to the smugglers than we were when your initial investigation revealed the plot to cheat the government out of its due.”

“Aye, my lord, my sentiments exactly. Do I have your permission to continue my investigation?”

“You have it, though ’tis most unwillingly given. Since you believe there is a traitor within our ranks, ’tis best you do not contact me here. If we need to meet, send a message around to my home.”

Julian rose. “Very good, my lord. God willing, the next time we meet I will have run the Jackal to ground.”

Julian returned home in a thoughtful mood. He would continue his investigation by escorting Emma to the usual rounds of social events tonight and throughout the season. He strode into the drawing room and was surprised to see Emma and Aunt Amanda taking tea with Viscount Blakely.

“Lord Mansfield,” Rudy said, rising to greet Julian. “Emma was just telling me that you’ve returned home. She said you saw Sinjun. How fares the Laird of Glenmoor?”

“Sinjun appears well.” He glanced at Emma. “I’m thinking of sending Lady Emma to Scotland for a lengthy visit.”

“Julian! In the middle of the season? I should say not. I’d be most happy to visit Sinjun and Christy in a few months, but not now.”

“We’ll see,” Julian hedged.

He plopped down in an empty chair. Emma poured tea and handed him a cup. “Rudy is to escort us to the Wexinghams’ rout tonight. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

“Lord Blakely’s escort won’t be needed,” Julian said stiffly. “Since I’m now in residence, I intend to escort you to all your social functions.”

Emma shot Julian a disgruntled look, which he promptly disregarded.

“We’ll see you there, Rudy, won’t we?” Emma asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Rudy said.

Julian rose abruptly. “A word with you in my study, if you please, Blakely.”

Obviously Rudy recognized an order when he heard one. “Of course, Mansfield. Lead the way.”

“I hope Julian isn’t discourteous to Rudy,” Emma whispered to Aunt Amanda as the men disappeared down the hall. “Rudy is really a sweet, kind man. Not at all like the unrelenting rogue Sinjun was before he reformed.”

“Is Lord Blakely courting you, Emma, dear?” Amanda asked. “It seems that way to me, but of course Julian must have the last word on allowing his suit.”

Emma blushed and looked away. “I … care for Rudy, Auntie, and I think he cares for me, though nothing has been discussed concerning our future together or lack of one. You know Julian will say Rudy is too old for me, though barely six years separate us. To his favor, Rudy will inherit his father’s title and considerable fortune one day. He can’t be all that objectionable.”

“That’s for Julian to decide, dear,” Amanda replied.

Emma’s would-be suitor faced Julian over a snifter of brandy. Julian stared at him over the rim of the glass. He could see where Blakely would turn a young girl’s head. He was handsome and personable, and his manners were impeccable. But Julian was well aware of Blakely’s weakness for women, hard drink, and gambling, not necessarily in that order, and he wanted to protect Emma from falling victim to Blakely’s rascally charm.

“What exactly are your intentions toward my sister, Blakely?” Julian asked, going directly to the heart of the matter.

Blakely’s brown eyes widened and he nearly dropped his glass. “Are you accusing me of acting disrespectfully toward Lady Emma, Mansfield?”

“I’m well aware of your reputation, Blakely. Emma is an innocent; ’tis my duty to protect her.”

“Lady Emma needs no protection from me, my lord,” Blakely assured him. “I hold her in the greatest regard. I would like permission to court her.”

“Emphatically no,” Julian bit out. “You have wormed your way into her good graces during my absence, but I have no intention of letting it go on. I’m sure there are other ladies who would welcome your attention.”

“Be that as it may, my lord, but Emma is the only woman I wish to court.”

“I’m withholding permission,” Julian barked. “If you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

Rudy leveled a flinty glare at Julian and rose stiffly. “I’m as determined as you are, Mansfield. Sinjun changed; what makes you think that I cannot?”

He left before Julian could form a reply.

Julian stared at the closed door a long, thoughtful moment after Blakely left. Emma wouldn’t agree, but protecting his sister from her reckless nature was necessary. He knew she considered him harsh and unyielding. She had accused him more than once of having no heart, and in a way she was right.

Would a man with a heart abandon a woman who had been innocent of a man’s touch until he had relieved her of her virginity? He doubted it. Lara had been untried and he had taken her with lusty abandon, using her night after night to slake his unrequited hunger for her. Even now he wanted her. He suffered her loss as keenly as he’d felt Diana’s death.

Sometimes, during those odd moments of introspection, Julian wondered if he and Diana would have enjoyed a happy marriage. She would have been a perfect countess. Cool, reserved, regal, everything he’d ever desired in a wife. A woman fit for an earl.

It wasn’t until he met and bedded a certain Gypsy beauty that he learned the value of a woman’s passion. After Diana’s death he had taken mistresses, but they had roused little deep passion in him. They had been outlets for his physical needs, but quickly forgotten, whereas Lara’s passion had been honestly given and lovingly bestowed.