slipped inside the Duke of Farringdon’s lavish home in Grosvenor Square, a little past midnight. The house was silent. The duke and his sister should be on their way in a carriage to the Duchess Hardcastle’s midnight ball. A ball given by the young duchess was rare, and invitations were selective and highly coveted. Nicolas had known Farringdon wouldn’t let the opportunity pass by to rub shoulders socially with the young duchess or her husband, for an hour or two, even if his usual appointment at a house in Soho Square was planned for tonight.
Nicolas padded down the prodigious hallway, careful to move with stealth and not alert any of the servants below stairs. Knowing his dire straits and that it would embarrass him, Farringdon hardly entertained. Nicolas had only been over to the duke’s town house once for drinking and a private game of cards, but he cut through the dark without any mishap.
At the end of the hallway, he came upon the duke’s study and entered carefully. The room was dark, save for a low fire burning in the grate and a single taper on the mantel. Nicolas searched the room thoroughly, and it was not long before he found the papers he sought in the third drawer in the man’s large oak desk. It was the report O’Malley had traded to Farringdon.
How arrogant. The duke did not even imagine someone would dare to break into his home. Nicolas padded to the mantel, held the papers under the candlelight, and read.
There was not much there. Weychell had two bastards, age two and five, with a mistress hidden away in Cornwall. Uncommon knowledge, but one Nicolas would not use. Children should not suffer for the misguided deeds of their parents. And once he took the viscount off the board, Nicolas would have to make a generous provision for them.
He read the second sheet, which detailed his creditors and gambling debts to the tune of twenty thousand pounds. And then the final page hinted that during the war, Weychell had been a close friend with a man who had been a general in Emperor Napoleon’s army. And from the detailed outline—houses that were let, a chateau, and monies and jewelry sent abroad, this general was more than a close friend. There was a speculation that Weychell might have acted as a spy for the general.
Treason.
A dark hum of pleasure blasted through him. Nicolas filed the information away and returned the papers exactly as he found them. Then he made his way from the library, only to duck inside another room as a strident female voice came down the hallway with the sound of rapid feet.
Peeking through the space he left by not closing the door fully, he watched the duke’s ravishing sister, Lady Sophie, make her way up the stairs while a gentleman lingered, waiting for her. She came back down a few minutes later and handed him a case, which he opened.
“You are a study in recklessness, aren’t you?” the man murmured, taking out a necklace of glittering rubies to clasp around her throat.
“I had to come back for them when my brother left the ball.”
“Perhaps you should tell him that you have them and stop this mad dash home whenever he leaves a ball for them.”
“Darling, I cannot let him know. He will pawn them.”
“Is it that bad?”
“I fear it is, and he tried to keep it from me. He is furious the match fell through with that heiress. But he is a duke, you know. Another is bound to come along soon.”
They headed outside, and he padded behind them at a careful distance, listening to their conversation, storing whatever he deemed to be valuable information. A warble sounded on the night air, a signal by David. Nicolas hurried down the servants’ stairs and through the kitchens to meet him by the hedge of small trees and shrubs. They were perfectly hidden in the dark.
“Did you find anything?” David asked.
“Nothing incriminating.” Nicolas always played his cards close to his chest, and he did not regret it. It always paid to be cautious.
“A waste,” David said with a sigh. “When I saw the return of the lady and her companion, I started warbling like a madman. What are you doing?”
“I want to hear what they are saying.”
They were still standing by the steps instead of making their way to the parked carriage, and it seemed as if they argued. Nicolas bent low and walked along the path leading up