A Masquerade in the Moonlight - By Kasey Michaels Page 0,102

murder? How could he refuse now—now that he’d been the one who said they should all die? He fell back against his chair, watching in dumbfounded silence as the Earl of Laleham quit the room. Curse the man! The bastard had outsmarted him again!

Dusk had begun to descend before Sir Ralph, after an afternoon spent in deep thought, reached Lord Chorley’s mansion in Grosvenor Square. Three rather angry men were sitting on the front steps.

He brushed past them and banged the knocker, nearly losing his hat as the door opened and Lord Chorley grabbed his arm, pulling him inside.

“Stinky! What in blazes is going on? Where are your servants? Who are those men outside?”

Lord Chorley, his graying hair rumpled, his waistcoat hanging open over his ample stomach, motioned for Sir Ralph to follow him into the drawing room. “Gone, Ralph. The servants are all gone. They left this afternoon, when the first of those black crows showed up outside. And good riddance to them, I say—I owed them all at least a quarter’s wages.”

Harewood began to understand. This was going to be even easier than he had thought! “Those men outside, Stinky. They’re duns, aren’t they? Your creditors are after you.”

Lord Chorley’s features screwed up and he began to cry. “The first arrived this morning after I’d already gone out, or so he told me when I met him in the hallway a while ago, carrying off m’candlesticks. The man I’ve been gambling with the past few weeks sold my vowels to some moneylender or somebody like that I suppose, and the new owner demands payment immediately.”

“That is awkward,” Sir Ralph said commiserating.

“Awkward! It’s damn insensitive, that’s what it is. Once the first appeared the rest of the vultures took up the scent in a heartbeat. I didn’t know grocers and chandlers really hired duns—you’d think they’d know a gentleman pays gaming debts first and tradesmen last. There’s one of the duns in the kitchens, Ralph, gathering up the pots, and another in the dining room. He refuses to leave, even after I offered him that silver epergne m’mother left me. Ugly thing, but it has got to be worth something. If I open the door more than a crack, the place will be crawling with the leeches taking up residence here—and I barely have food enough for myself. The servants took most of it. I sent a note round to Prinny, but he refused to answer.”

He collapsed into a chair and buried his head in his hands. “Ralph—what am I going to do? I can’t tell William. He already warned me this would happen—just today. Blast the man—it’s as if he had wished this on me!”

Sir Ralph smiled. His face felt strange as the skin stretched over his lean cheekbones, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. He had come here to convince Lord Chorley that William was dangerous, believing he needed an ally and knowing the weak Arthur was no use to him and Perry was too dangerous. Lord Chorley, who was always in need of money, had been his last, best hope. Now it was beginning to seem as if it was also the surest bet he, a man who never gambled, could ever make.

“Most of my money is tied up at the moment,” he lied after a few moments, long seconds when only Lord Chorley’s pathetic, heartbroken sobs filled the silence. He had to make the man believe it would be a sacrifice to help him. “However, I believe I could find my way clear to advance you some funds. How much do you owe? In total, Stinky.”

Lord Chorley raised his hands, then dropped them into his lap. “I don’t know. Twenty thousand pounds?”

Sir Ralph nearly laughed, but that degree of response was beyond him. This was proving to be almost too easy. Conveniently forgetting he himself had already planned to cut Lord Chorley out, and the rest of the group as well, Harewood concentrated on Laleham’s heartless treachery. Try to trick me into murdering three of my oldest and dearest friends, would you? Oh, no, William. You’ve gone too far this time! For this time it will be Sir Ralph Harewood who calls the tune!

“Your estates, Stinky? Are they mortgaged?”

Lord Chorley nodded. “All of them. Three times over.” He raised his head and looked pleadingly at Sir Ralph. “Can you help me? You have plenty, and never spend a penny that I can see. Help me, Ralph. Just until William’s plans come together. Then we’ll all