Lady Lilias and the Devil in Plaid - Julie Johnstone Page 0,59
pounds can enter.”
Her eyes widened. “One hundred pounds! That’s a fortune!”
“Yes,” he said, smiling, and she noticed he had the most unusual blue eyes, the color the lightest blue she had ever seen. But no, she had seen that blue before, she thought as she stared at him. She just could not remember where, but something tugged at the back of her mind. “About my favor…”
“Yes,” she said, blinking.
He withdrew a necklace from his coat and held it out to her. “This belongs to Lady Frederica. I believe she is a fellow SLAR member.”
“Did Carrington tell you that?” Lilias demanded, already prepared to lecture Guinevere’s husband, who seemed to be blabbing all about Town about their secret society.
“No, Lady Frederica did. But don’t be vexed with her. She was quite unaware of what she was saying. It was after she’d been hit from behind and her carriage was stolen,” Beckford said. “I actually carried her to the house where you picked her up. I’m the one who sent Davy to you. Freddy—I mean, Lady Frederica gave me your address. When you came for her, I was just in the other room.”
Lilias smiled. “You hid in the other room to protect Frederica’s reputation.”
“I would not use the word hid,” Beckford said, frowning. “I intentionally withdrew myself.”
She bit her tongue on teasing him.
“Why the devil did you act like you didn’t know who she was when we met you, then?” Nash demanded, his arm coming around Lilias’s waist. He drew her to him and stepped a tad in front of her. Lilias’s heart galloped at the protective gesture.
“I wanted to see what the two of you would say. If you’d be truthful. Just because Carrington tells me to trust someone doesn’t mean I automatically do, Greybourne. They, woman or man, need to prove themselves worthy.”
Nash grunted, but Lilias nodded her agreement to the sensible statement. “I take it you deem us honest?”
“For now,” Beckford said with a smile. “But the night is young… Lady A,” he went on, though she knew now he knew exactly who she was, “will you give Lady Frederica her locket for me, please?”
“I will, but if you know where Frederica lives, why do you not return it to her yourself?”
“There is your world,” he said slowly, “and then there is mine. The two worlds do not normally mix except at night and on very special occasions, like when a friend from your world has a foot in both worlds, but that’s rare.”
“Like Carrington?” Lilias asked.
“Yes. Now, enough about me… Why are the two of you here?”
“I’m here to retrieve something from one of your members, Mr. Levine. I have it on good authority that he’s here tonight.”
“Whose authority?”
“That of his sister, Mrs. Porter.”
“Ahh, Mrs. Porter.” Beckford drew the out the words, and Lilias understood immediately that he knew Helen was a courtesan by trade. Did he know she was not even really Mrs. Helen Porter, the supposed widow, but really Miss Helen Levine, the unwed courtesan? Lilias understood why Miss Levine went by Mrs. Porter and pretended to be a widow. It was easier for widows to go about as they pleased, and people asked fewer questions of her that way than they would as the unwed Miss Levine.
“Mr. Levine is in the Gold Room. Careful with him, though. I get the sense that he can be dangerous. There is something about him. He always seems on edge, and more so lately.”
Lilias frowned. “Then why do you permit him to enter?”
“My dear, if I turned away every gentleman I thought dangerous, I’d lose a fortune. The key is to watch them and swoop in if need be.”
She nodded and swept her gaze around the main room, her attention coming to rest on a gold door. “The Gold Room, I presume?” she asked, pointing.
“Yes, so named because it brings me much gold. That is the vingt-et-un room. He’s in there playing. Do either of you play? The rule is that you can only enter if playing or if you are a mistress of a man playing, as the women seem to have a calming effect on the men.”
“I play,” Nash said.
“Excellent,” Beckford replied. “You can enter. And you”—he looked to her—“can play the part of his courtesan. I assume you wish your identity to remain secret?”
“Yes,” she said, the word coming out breathless at the thought of playing Nash’s mistress.
“Then play your part. The better you are at it, the less likely it will be that questions are