Sins of a Virgin (7 page)

Madeline smiled at something the duke said and leaned in to respond, her eyes gleaming as if she were about to impart the perfect secret. Gabriel only just stopped himself from leaning in to try to hear even though he was half a ballroom away. Another gentleman to his right lacked his control and inched forward. As she spun about the dance floor, she radiated wicked sensuality, as if she might suddenly decide to scandalize everyone at any moment. And none of the gentlemen present would risk looking away and missing it.

Gabriel took advantage of their distraction to survey those in attendance. From his investigations this afternoon he’d tightened his suspect list to five: Lenton, Billingsgate, Hurley, Wallace, and Stedman. The other two had been eliminated when he’d confirmed their whereabouts the evening of the murder. Of the remaining suspects, two were here tonight: Lenton and Billingsgate.

While keeping Madeline in sight, Gabriel worked his way through the crowd until he stood a few feet to the right of Billingsgate.

The man’s long black hair was tied back in a queue, but a piece had come free. He kept shoving it out of his face with impatient swats of his hand. A curvy, blond woman lingered by his side even though it was apparent his attention was on Madeline. “There is something about her I cannot resist.”

“You used to like a thing or two about me.” The blonde inched closer, finally wrapping her hands around his waist and pressing herself fully against him.

Billingsgate lifted his hand and roughly fondled her breast through her bodice, but his gaze stalked Madeline on the dance floor. “You were never more than a passing tolerable swiv.”

When the woman swatted his hand away with an annoyed huff, Billingsgate shoved her from his side and prowled closer to the edge of the dance floor.

Gabriel intercepted the woman as she regained her balance.

Her brown eyes swept over him with an appraising gleam. “Are you looking for some company?”

Gabriel shook his head. “Answers.”

“Why don’t you come with me and I’ll see what I can do?”

“I want information on Billingsgate.”

Her tongue darted nervously over her lips and she checked to ensure he was still hovering by the dance floor. “I didn’t come to waste this evening talking.”

“I will make it worth your while.”

Her eyes skipped to Billingsgate’s back again. “He won’t know I talked to you?”

Gabriel led her toward an alcove. “No.”

Her smile returned, this time bloodthirsty. “What do you want to know?”

“You were his mistress?”

She shrugged. “Not quite. He visited me a few times, but we never had anything formal.”

“When?” Gabriel asked.

“About two years ago.”

She would know nothing about his whereabouts for either murder then. But perhaps she could link him to Miss Simm. “Did he ever mention a daughter?”

The woman’s eyes widened. “No, he’s not precisely the sentimental type. He—”

Billingsgate had glanced behind him, and even though he wasn’t looking at them, the woman bolted before Gabriel could stop her. Before he’d paid her.

That bespoke a lot of fear. And that fear definitely moved him to the top of Gabriel’s suspect list.

Gabriel threaded his way back to the edge of the dance floor so Madeline could find him when she finished this set. Where she went, Billingsgate and Lenton would follow.

He tried to picture either of them as the suitor Susan had spoken of. Not that he knew much. He only knew the man was handsome and titled. Gabriel hadn’t let Susan get any further in her description before cutting her off. He’d come back from Oxford so full of himself and yet stinging from dozens of slights doled out by his aristocratic classmates. He’d been sure her suitor couldn’t have honorable intentions. He’d been so certain he knew what was best for her he hadn’t even bothered to ask questions. Instead, he ordered her away from the man. Ordered her, as if Oxford had made him all-knowing.

He might have been right about the man, but he’d been a fool about his sister.

Madeline returned to his side as the next set formed. The dance had brought a flush to her cheeks, making him long to let her warmth chase away the chill that surrounded him.

A sparkle lit her eyes. “You can’t play nice with the other children, can you? What did you say to Laura to chase her off?”

Ah, he hadn’t inspired the look, the chance to taunt him further had. That was easy for him to believe. “Laura?”

“The blonde.”

Gabriel saw no reason not to tell her at least part of the truth. “I was investigating Billingsgate. Where’s suitor number one—or rather two?”

“I sent him to fetch me a glass of wine. Don’t you ever pursue women for the sake of enjoyment?”

“Not when I’m working.”

She leaned in so close that, if he lowered his gaze, he’d be able to stare down the enticing valley between her breasts. “Are you ever not working?”

“No.”

Her lips widened into a grin. “I can just picture you ordering a woman to bed with you.”

Gabriel knew he should be insulted, but all he could focus on was the slight crinkle on her nose. It turned her smile from perfect to something far more real.

She straightened, fixing her smile on an approaching man. “Lenton! I feared you wouldn’t make it tonight.”

The crease on her nose was gone, returning the smile to mere perfection. A hollow smile.

After his initial certainty, Gabriel frowned, studying her again. There was nothing to confirm his suspicion. Her eyes still sparkled. Her face was glowing and animated.

A spurt of disgust tightened his lips. No, he was a fool and she was far too good at her job. No doubt Lenton found some quirk in her that he thought was only for him.

Sickening.

As if to confirm his suspicion, Lenton caught Madeline around the waist. “Come away with me. You don’t want these others.”

With a graceful twist, Madeline disengaged his arms in a clever maneuver that left her hands clasped in his. “But I had so hoped to dance with you this evening.”

The poor sod didn’t even realize she’d escaped him. “When are you free?”

“In only four sets.”

Lenton groaned. “I shall persevere until then.”

The other slavering gentlemen descended, forcing Lenton back, but Gabriel refused to cede his place near Madeline. He didn’t try to hide his expression of thinly reined tolerance, and either that or his reputation was fierce enough to win him a handbreadth of distance from the press of bodies.

Madeline, laughing at some inane folly, whipped open her fan and brandished it flirtatiously in front of her, accomplishing the same separation from the crowd. As the men laughed at one of her sallies, she drew toward Gabriel, lifting her fan to conceal her mouth. “Your scowl could eclipse the sun.”

He directed the aforementioned expression at some striped popinjay who attempted to insert himself next to Madeline. “Good.”

“I’m not paying you enough for this much diligence.”

She’d provided him more than she’d ever know—the perfect opportunity to watch Lenton and Billingsgate interact with the others. “I do my job. You do yours.”

“For the record, I wish I could scowl rather than wave this fan. It is much less tiring.”

The corner of his mouth quirked, ruining his scowl. “You’re welcome to try it.”

“I should. So many men fantasize about dour-faced women.” A comical grimace flashed across her face for the barest instant before Madeline redirected her energy back to the pack in front of her.

After several minutes, the other courtesans, realizing the shifting interest of their customers, wove their way through the men around Madeline, hoping that the dejected supplicants would turn to them for comfort.

But they’d underestimated Madeline’s skill.

She held court like a pagan queen—jesting, flirting, drawing them all in while keeping them at bay. Except for a few fellows who wandered over to examine the commotion rather than Madeline, she kept their rapt attention.

Which, unfortunately, left the eager, ambitious women at loose ends.

As they grew more bored, his scowl reduced in proportional efficiency.

He batted away a hand that slid down his side. “Can I borrow that fan?” he muttered, inching a step closer to Madeline.

She cast him a glance from the corner of her eye. “Perhaps a sword?”

A hand pinched his backside, startling him into taking a step. His back pressed into Madeline’s. “Tell me that was your hand.”

She laughed. “You should hope. But never fear, it’s time to break up this mob. I need to leave them longing, not trampled.” She accepted the hand of an older gentleman to the cries and groans of her other admirers, then let him lead her to the dance floor.

Without Madeline luring them closer, the group of men slowly dispersed, snared by Madeline’s competition.

Gabriel rolled his shoulders a few times, relishing his newfound space.

Lenton appeared next to him, an untouched wineglass held dejectedly between two fingers. “It’s almost my dance with her, isn’t it?”

Who knew what the woman had planned? But he wasn’t about to give up the chance to speak with Lenton if he was feeling sociable. “She’ll return after the set. Is she the type of woman you normally fancy?”

“She’s like the air in my lungs. I’ve loved her as long as I can remember.”

“How long have you known her?”

Lenton blinked. “Oh, same as everyone, I suppose. Since she showed up in London six months ago.”

Gabriel followed her laughing progress across the floor. “Where was she before that?”

Lenton sighed. “I never asked. Heaven, I suppose. Or Shropshire.” He frowned at his wine. “I need something stronger. I’ll return.”

As Lenton wandered away, Gabriel reviewed all the gossip he’d heard in the past months. Her name had been on every man’s lips, noble and common, until he’d been sick of it. She featured so prominently in the scandal sheets it had been difficult to learn anything else. But before that, he couldn’t think of any mention of her.

If she’d been in London for only the past six months, where the devil had she been before that?

M
adeline disentangled herself from Wethersly. Really, the man was more octopus than octogenarian.

She searched out Huntford, now blessedly isolated from the swarming mass of humanity that filled the ballroom.

Not that his cocoon of space would last once she returned.

She kept her step light and carefree even though she wanted nothing more than to dive through the nearest open window. Why had she come tonight?

Her stomach gave a very undainty rumble. Ah yes, money.

A drunken gentleman stumbled into her path and she skirted around him, leaving him to the dubious comfort of the woman he’d selected to entertain him tonight.

Alcohol had flowed abundantly throughout the evening, and, as she well knew, wine and lust were a potent duo. She skipped around a hand grabbing for her backside. But there was a fine line between inspiring lust and fending it off. It would soon be time to leave.

Huntford’s jade eyes locked on her as she approached. Under his gaze, the natural sway of her hips felt exaggerated and wanton. Her bodice tightened uncomfortably over her breasts. And again the awareness returned. Not of her seductiveness, she knew that tool too well to pay it any heed, but of the woman beneath it who wanted to be seduced.

That woman was a stranger. And a terrifying one at that.

But it was more than just physical attraction that slowed her steps as she returned to Gabriel. When she’d stood back to back with him earlier, she’d been surprised by the warmth that spread through her. It wasn’t the heat of an additional body pressing against her or even the simmering lust. No, it was something far more singular in her experience—security. There weren’t many people she’d trust at her back in a fight. As a matter of fact, there were only two.

Three now, apparently.

She wanted to pinch Huntford’s scowling cheek. “Come, let’s get you some food. I won’t have them saying that I’m a cruel taskmaster.”

“I believe Lenton hoped to find you.”

“You’re right. We’d better hurry before he succeeds.”

He tipped his head in acceptance, and she led the way to the dining room. She stopped just inside, a snort of laughter escaping before she could contain it. She’d promised Huntford scandalous, hadn’t she?

On the table in the center of the room, a nude woman had arranged herself across several silver platters. Fruit had been placed over her body. As the men selected the fruit, more of her bare skin was revealed.

Perhaps they should stay away from the fruit table. In fact, the beef looked rather good. But Madeline couldn’t resist peering back at Gabriel. “Hungry?”

Gabriel’s scowl deepened. “Not anymore.”

“Madeline!” A gentleman called out, pausing in the act of lifting a bunch of grapes from the woman’s hips.

Madeline repressed a grimace as a new group of men formed around her, cutting her off from the food.

“Shall I get you a plate?” one of the men asked.

Only if it didn’t come from the table with the woman.

A fast-moving object flashed in the corner of Madeline’s vision. She reacted without thinking, her body jerking to the side. A large strawberry hit the man next to her square in the chest.

“Greedy witch! The men were supposed to be falling all over themselves for
me
tonight! Do you know how long I had to stay still while they arranged all that fruit?” The formerly food-bedecked woman had risen to her feet, her colorful costume in piles at her feet. She picked up a bowl of cream and hurled it in Madeline’s direction. Gabriel stepped in front of her to block the projectile. Luckily for him, the woman’s tantrum affected her aim, and the bowl sailed through the air and bounced off a man four feet to Madeline’s left.

“My best waistcoat!” With a huff, he flicked the cream off his chest. The foamy treat splattered over the man next to him, who looked down at his sleeve with the bleary intensity of one who’d had too much to drink. Then with a laugh, he tossed a pastry from the nearby table back at the man.

Suddenly, pastries and globs of gravy were flying around the room as the rest of the gentlemen joined in.