An Unexpected Earl (Lords of the Armory #2) - Anna Harrington Page 0,101

here to stop it.”

She turned slowly back toward the carriage. “Why do you care?”

“Because your brother belongs to my club, whose activities need to be kept private. You understand, of course.” He smiled a bit sheepishly. “An arrest ruins all that.”

“You’re too late, I’m afraid,” she admitted as she glanced down the street in the direction where the men had taken Freddie, her voice choking. “The runners arrested him and took him away just a few minutes ago.”

Varnham leaned out of the carriage as if searching after them. Dark fury flashed over his face for a split second, so intense that Amelia was certain he would have cursed if the two women hadn’t been within earshot. Then the anger was gone, his expression easing into a troubled frown.

He leaned over to his cousin to speak quietly into her ear. The woman nodded.

“I agree. She must come with us to find your brother.” Miss Humphries smiled reassuringly at Amelia. “Westminster isn’t out of my way at all, and I’d be happy to accompany you.”

“Good.” Varnham turned his gaze onto Amelia. “Then you must come with us to speak to Charles. I insist. Perhaps you can convince him to rescind the charges.” In an attempt to lighten the mood, he teased, “Can’t have my brother putting all my chums into gaol. Won’t have anyone interesting left to drink with at this rate.” With a smile that didn’t put her at ease, he gestured at the empty seat next to Miss Humphries. “Please let us help you and your brother.”

Amelia hesitated. “I shouldn’t impose.” But she so dearly wanted to! Finding a hackney for hire at this time of day near the square would take forever, and Arthur Varnham would know exactly where to find Sir Charles. Perhaps he could even walk her past all the guards and into the offices of Parliament. If she went by herself, as a woman she wouldn’t be allowed through the first doorway.

Misreading her reluctance, he added in disappointment, “I understand if you’re not up to confronting Charles about this.”

She nearly laughed! What other choice did she have? “Wild horses couldn’t stop me,” she muttered to herself, the little mantra adding to her resolve. Then she remembered Pearce’s words. “Or ponies, donkeys, mules…and my jackass of a brother.”

“Pardon?”

“Nothing.” She pulled in a deep, determined breath and stepped up into the carriage. “Thank you for your help, both of you.”

“Of course.” He smiled and closed the door.

As the carriage rolled away from the house, Amelia cast a surreptitious glance at the pair sitting with her. Miss Humphries was dressed respectably in a blue muslin day dress and pelisse, but her dress was old and frayed at the hem and sleeves. Fine for average wear, but not at all what Amelia would have expected from a gentleman’s cousin.

But then, Varnham’s appearance wasn’t exactly pristine either. From the state of his dress, he hadn’t lied; he must have just returned home from a night out. Beneath cheeks darkened with morning beard and eyes red from lack of sleep, he wore red from head to toe, including an odd red cap resting on the seat beside him. All red, all white…what on earth went on at those clubs? No wonder Varnham wanted to keep secret what the men did there.

As if reading her mind, he twisted a rueful smile in her direction and stuffed the red cap into his jacket pocket.

They rode on in silence, circling the square. But just as the carriage was about to turn toward the south, Varnham pounded on the ceiling. The carriage slowed and stopped. He opened the door. Miss Humphries quickly exited with a cat-like smile for Varnham and no acknowledgment whatsoever for Amelia.

He closed the door, and the carriage moved on.

“Wait!” Amelia twisted in her seat to stare through the window after Miss Humphries, but the woman walked away, turning off the square and disappearing quickly into the tangle of narrow streets. “Miss Humphries isn’t—”

“She lives nearby and is going home.” His explanation did nothing to ease her wariness. “She has no need to come with us.”

Yet Amelia had need of her. She couldn’t be seen riding alone in a carriage with a man who wasn’t her relative. “But she said she’d act as my companion.”

“She did.” His voice reverberated with mock empathy. “I’m afraid that was a lie.”

A chill twisted down her spine. “I can’t ride alone with you. I’m unmarried.”

“Oh, but you’re not, Mrs. Northam.”

A piercing jolt flashed through her, momentarily freezing