One Thing Leads to a Lover (Love and Let Spy #2) - Susanna Craig Page 0,88

Langley. “When we got back here, they were surprised to see Jacobs, o’ course, full o’ some tale t’ me about how their new tutor had bested him in a match. Said they didn’t know a thing about any old book, and couldn’t I please take them back home now, and then…” Dulsworthy paused for another swallow, this one deep enough to drain the glass. “And then, Jacobs pulled out a pistol and said the boys were to come with him.”

Langley understood, suddenly, why the fencing master had refused to teach the boys how to defend themselves properly.

Amanda shrieked and leaped to her feet. “A pistol?”

“Where did he take them?” Langley demanded, rising too.

Dulsworthy dropped his head into his hands again, muffling his next words. “I don’t know.”

This Langley readily believed. “What about that club you mentioned? Could they be there?”

Dulsworthy shook his head, and Langley was inclined to agree. Too obvious and open a place for hiding something as valuable as a nobleman’s sons. Nevertheless, when Dulsworthy scratched out the address on a scrap of paper, Langley took it.

Amanda leaned over the desk, forcing Dulsworthy to look up. “How could you? Your wards? The sons of your dear friend?”

“I never thought they’d come to harm,” Dulsworthy insisted, swaying as if caught in a stiff breeze as he hoisted himself from the chair.

“In answer to your earlier question, I shall never forgive you, George. And if even a hair on one of their heads is harmed, I shall—”

“I think,” Langley interjected smoothly, laying a hand on her arm, “we have what we need. But if you’ll wait downstairs,” he urged her, “I would like a private word with his lordship. Between gentlemen.”

She blinked up at him, her expression a mixture of resistance and confusion, but at his encouraging nod, she turned on one heel and went out.

When the door shut behind her, Langley reached for the decanter on a nearby table and refilled Dulsworthy’s tumbler. “This will only take a moment, my lord.”

What he was about to do was undeniably bold. Presumptuous.

In other words, perfectly in character.

He had always been a risk-taker, just as General Scott had said. And if ever there had been a risk worth taking, it was this one. Because it was for Amanda.

“If what’s happened today comes out,” he began, “and people learn of your involvement in it, they will no doubt be shocked at how lightly you held your duty to your wards.” Though his voice was easy, the implied threat was clear: Langley had in his power the ability to ruin Dulsworthy’s reputation. And reputation mattered a great deal to such a man.

Dulsworthy opened his mouth to defend himself, then gave a reluctant nod of agreement.

“I myself judge Lady Kingston perfectly capable of acting as sole guardian, making appropriate choices about her sons’ future. I suspect, if the present circumstances were known, others might agree.”

At those words, Dulsworthy lifted the tumbler to his lips for another deep swallow, then thumped the glass down. Brandy sloshed over the sides and onto the desktop. “What ish—is it you want?”

“It’s a simple request, my lord. A letter, in which you acknowledge your errors and cede your authority to her ladyship in whatever matters she may please, pertaining to her sons. In your hand and addressed to her. For…safekeeping, shall we say? You understand, I’m sure.”

In truth, Langley wasn’t certain the man did understand, but Dulsworthy gave another unsteady nod, then pulled out a sheet of paper, dipped his quill, and scrawled across the paper just what Langley had asked him to write.

“Very good, my lord. Thank you. Now, if you’ll just sign your name to it.”

Given the man’s present condition, Langley had his doubts about the legality of the document, which was now speckled with brandy from the wet desktop.

But when Dulsworthy spoke again, he sounded almost sober—shocked into clear-headedness, perhaps, by the enormity of what he had done. “I hope you find them,” he said, handing over the paper.

“I intend to.” Langley folded the letter and tucked it inside his coat pocket. Once the boys had been found, he would give the document to Amanda and set her free.

At the bottom of the stairs, he caught up with her, cupped her elbow in his hand, and led her out of the house. She was stiff, trembling—whether with fear or anger, he could not say. As he handed her into the waiting carriage, he gripped her fingers tightly, making her turn her head and look him square