brandy and cheap perfume that lingered around him like a cloud.
“After tonight, we might not have to worry so much anymore,” he said sotto voce so that he wouldn’t be overheard. Apparently, Freddie didn’t trust his own servants any more than she did. “I succeeded at my purpose for the evening.”
She fought to keep her shoulders from sagging in relief. He hadn’t seen her after all. Thank God. “And what purpose was that?”
He grinned stupidly, placed his hands flat on the desktop, and leaned toward her. “The turnpike trust!”
She froze, except for a cold dread that coiled its way up from the backs of her knees like a slithering snake. “We’ve discussed this before,” she replied calmly, forcing herself to remain stoic. “I told you that I am not interested in allowing a turnpike to be built on my property.”
His smile faded. “We don’t have a choice this time.” He reached for his drink. But his hand shook uncontrollably, forcing him to set down the glass before he spilled it. “I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a predicament.”
“Oh?” She held her breath. He meant the blackmail.
Not looking at her, he began to pace behind the desk in short, jerking turns that reminded her of the caged animals at the Tower Menagerie. He scrubbed his hand over his face and gave a strangled laugh. “Seems there’s someone who has a grudge against me.”
That was an interesting definition of blackmail. But she knew not to interrupt. Let him divulge what he would, let him lay out just enough rope to hang himself…and then she would demand answers. And the truth.
“You know all those government positions that have been coming open lately? Well, the man’s demanding that I use my influence to put the men he wants into them.” He gestured wildly in the general direction of Westminster. “Of course, I had to agree or—or I would lose power in the House.”
“Extortion?” she asked ingenuously, dangling the end of the rope…
He gave a quick, curt nod. “Yes, that’s—”
“Or blackmail?”
He jerked up straight, halting in his steps. When his bloodshot eyes darted to hers, she knew—with that look, he’d formed the end of the rope into a noose himself.
Deflecting her concern, he gave a dismissive shrug. “Is there a difference?”
“Yes.” A huge one. Extortion implied quid pro quo…yours for mine. A deal that could be broken if both parties were willing to live with the consequences. But blackmail was one-sided, happening after the fact, when crimes had already been committed… Oh, God, what had he done?
“All right, then I’m being blackmailed.” He announced that by lifting his glass in a mocking toast. “Cheers!”
She grimaced. None of this was amusing. “Since when?” The crumpled note clearly wasn’t the first threat. No, it had been issued simply as a reminder to keep following orders.
“The start of the session.”
Six months. Her stomach roiled at how long this had been hanging over their heads without her knowing. “Over what?”
Taking his time to swallow down a mouthful of brandy, he shook his head, then wiped the back of his free hand across his mouth. “So far I’ve done what he’s asked,” he explained, evading her question. “I’ve placed all the men just as he’s wanted. I’ve managed to keep him happy enough not to enact his threats.”
“Who?”
Another shrug. “The entire Tory party, half the men in the Whigs, anyone who wants my seat for himself… Your guess is as good as mine.”
He was right. Too many men disliked him to narrow the choice down to just one who might hate him enough to do this. “What exactly has this man threatened?”
A guilty pause filled the silence. “To tell Sir Charles Varnham what I’ve done. He leads the Committee of Privileges and would love to make an example of someone like me.” He muttered bitterly, once more lifting his glass, “The son of a factory owner, the upstart in their ranks…”
Her heart thumped painfully against her breastbone. “And what have you done, exactly?”
He scowled and jabbed the glass at her to make his point. “Nothing that the rest of Parliament hasn’t, including Varnham. We all use our positions for our own gains.”
She pressed quietly, “Illegal gains, Frederick?”
“Yes! Yes, I did illegal things, all right?” The angry snarl reminded her of a wild animal who had been cornered. “But nothing that others haven’t, I promise you that.” He set the glass onto the desk so hard that cognac splashed over the rim. “But it’s enough, if the House rules of