Last Dance in London (Rakes on the Run #1) - Sydney Jane Baily Page 0,65
be visiting a mistress whom she knew nothing about. Moreover, it was none of her business. Unfortunately, her heart was becoming ridiculously possessive.
How terrible! It was utter idiocy to feel that way over this man. She would have to give herself a stern talking-to later. Right then, however, she wanted to make him say he wouldn’t go through with it, or at least that he wouldn’t enjoy it.
“How do we know if you do what she wants, she’ll stop her extortion?” Julia wondered.
“More importantly, how do we know you’ll stop your infernal behavior so no one else can threaten you with a trip to the Bow Street magistrate’s court.”
Julia opened her mouth, but nothing came out. He wouldn’t understand how much good the money from pawning was doing across London. As an earl, he would value property rights above the far-reaching social good.
Still, she could try. “I put the money from their sale to good use,” she began.
“There is no excuse,” he interrupted. “And I might not be of interest to the next blackmailer,” he continued, his tone scathing. “We’re fortunate she wants me. Otherwise, she would be on her way to the authorities tomorrow.”
Julia knew he was shaming her and trying to make her feel guilty. As to the latter, it was working. He shouldn’t be involved with the problem she’d created.
“Next week, Lady Chandron might make fresh demands,” she pointed out. “And as you said, you’re not in danger of losing your reputation. You have no stake in this. You should bow out. It is all my fault.”
“True,” he agreed, pinning her with a harsh look. “Clearly, you are to blame for the predicament, but she thinks she knows something about me that is patently false. If she further spreads the rumor my fortune has dwindled or my coffers are low, the ramifications will be unpleasant. Silly as you may find it, I have my pride about such things. Plus, my mother will become distraught, and shopkeepers will demand I pay the balance on all my accounts. What’s more, the members of my club will whisper and start offering to pay for my drinks and my dinner.”
She frowned. Pay for his drinks and his dinner? In comparison to Sarah being cast out from the upper echelon of British society, Jasper’s worries seemed trite.
“How awful for you,” she said, trying to sound sincere and failing.
“You don’t understand, but that’s to be expected.”
How could he say such a belittling thing? “Because I’m a woman and too stupid to comprehend?”
“Of course not,” he snapped. “Because you were not born of the nobility, nor do you have to remain in the good graces of powerful people who can make your life difficult. Even my seat in Parliament can be called into question if they think I cannot manage my own estate.”
Digesting his real concern, shame truly was starting to rest upon her shoulders.
“I had best go inside and hope Sarah didn’t miss me. Perhaps you’ll think of another solution.”
“Do not worry yourself,” he said. “As you said, I’m a rakehell. I’ll bed her so hard she won’t be able to walk for a week.”
His words rattled her as he helped her down onto the street. She most certainly didn’t want him doing any such thing to anyone — except her!
“I’ll watch and make sure you safely reach your front door,” he offered, his tone softening.
A gallant rake! One would almost say a caring rake, she mused.
“One more thing, Miss Sudbury. When last you were in my bedchamber, did you steal from me?”
How dare he! Narrowing her eyes into slits, she told him, “You had nothing I wanted.”
“Are you saying if I had, then you would have stolen from me?”
“Of course not. I don’t do such things.” She glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then added, “And if I did, I wouldn’t want your silly mother-of-pearl buttons or ugly king’s medal, nor your gold pocket watch, and certainly not the pittance you left lying around. Like a trap.” She tilted her chin.
He laughed. “I noticed every damn thing was exactly where I left it on the globe desk you were examining, although it seems you took careful inventory.”
“I’m no petty thief,” she insisted.
“No, you prefer the grand larceny of jewels, don’t you?”
Turning away, Julia waved her hand in his direction, before hurrying up the steps to her sister’s home, in better standing than when she left. The threat over her head was gone, but the threat to her heart had