a trot, taking him to Mayfair and the home of Viscount Humber, a most distinguished gentleman and one of society’s great orators of the House of Lords.
It was after midnight, but a careful analysis of the man’s habits for the past month indicated he would be in his study, reading scientific reports. Once again, Nicolas’s coachman stopped the equipage a number of houses down, and he alighted. He turned up the collar of his coat against the unusually brisk wind, gripped his silver-handled cane, and strolled toward the viscount’s house.
With little effort, Nicolas broke into the man’s home through the kitchens and silently made his way up the servants’ stairs to the lower floors. With the information he’d obtained from a chambermaid he had bribed, Nicolas quickly found the man’s study.
A sliver of orange light peeked from beneath the large oak door. A careful test of the lock, and it turned in his hand. Nicolas entered silently, braced for the possibility of alarming the man. Predictably, the viscount was at his desk, several lit tapers close to him as he read from a book and at times made jottings in a ledger. The man was so engrossed in his task, he did not hear or sense Nicolas as he padded over to the bookshelf, the darkest corner of the room.
Nicolas waited for his presence to be felt, and after a few minutes, a humorless smile curved his lips. “Humber,” he said quietly.
The viscount dropped the book and half rose out of his chair. “Is someone there?”
Staying ensconced in the shadows, Nicolas retrieved the rolled sheaf of papers tied with a dark ribbon from his pockets, then with precision he tossed it to land on the man’s desk.
“What is the meaning of this?” the viscount snapped, moving swiftly around his desk and grabbing up the papers and setting them atop his desk. “Who are you?”
“A messenger. I mean no harm.”
“Yet you broke into my home,” Humber snapped, a scowl darkening his features.
“Lord Humber, you are known as an upright man…who is just and abhors reprehensible people, especially if their crimes are vile.”
The viscount remained still for an inordinate amount of time, his chest lifting on his rapid breathing, staring into the shadows. “What is this about?”
“Another rumor says that you adore your daughter and are not ashamed to admit she is the apple of your eye. You’ve betrothed her to a man most vile.”
The viscount curled one of his hands into a tight fist at his side. “Who are you?”
“A most concerned party.”
“A friend does not approach me in this villainous and secretive manner.”
“I did not claim friendship, but I am not your enemy, either. It is best for the both of us that my identity remains hidden. I swear upon my honor, I mean you and your household no harm.”
The viscount seemed to struggle for a few moments before he swiped the cylindrical roll off the table and impatiently ripped off the ribbon. He straightened the papers against the desk and bent over them, reading the information presented. Nicolas patiently waited for the man to absorb the information.
“What is this?” the viscount asked with dawning outrage.
“Your daughter’s betrothed frequents a particular house in Soho Square.”
Humber straightened. “I do not believe this!”
The duke had recently completed the arrangements with Viscount Humber for his daughter’s hand in marriage. The girl had a dowry of fifty thousand pounds, plus two unentailed estates and shares in a copper mine. Farringdon had been pleased with the match, given his financial straits, and bragged in the clubs he would soon be flush in the pockets. The viscount was equally pleased his daughter would marry into such a powerful family.
Dirty secrets that had the potential to bring scandal and ignominy to a family had the power to crumble even the most sought-after alliance.
“That information was carefully collected over the course of eight months,” Nicolas murmured. “I made no mistake. The duke has a penchant for depravity and that brothel in Soho caters to his every whim. He also hurts those under his protection without regret.”
Lord Humber’s fingers tightened on the paper. “This report says he has foisted a bastard on a young maid in his home before running her away.”
“To suffer a life of poverty and misery. The girl was only fifteen.”
If Nicolas hadn’t kept such a keen watch on the duke, he wouldn’t have been able to assist the girl in her darkest hour of need. That young girl had been returned to her family in