Free Dangerous in Diamonds by Madeline Hunter Page A

nothing cozy about the expansive library or towering dining room. Her presence created echoes wherever she went when she left her chamber.
    That chamber became her sanctuary. She took her dinner there after Mr. Edwards deposited her in the reception hall. She was sitting at the window, observing how dark transformed the park, when he returned that night with her baggage.
    Its arrival in her chamber involved a bit of ceremony, while the maid assigned to her hung out the dresses. Daphne noticed that her two best ones, the ones that would be presentable for dinner parties, had found their way here. She had not instructed Katherine to pack them.
    Mr. Edwards had received rather detailed orders from his master, it appeared, and had interfered with Katherine’s choice of wardrobe.
    And that, she realized, was why she felt vulnerable. The duke had arranged for her to inhabit a huge town house with acres of chambers that the sparse staff never would enter. He had ensured she did not have any of her friends living with her, or any woman at all as a companion. His plotting indicated he was taking far more interest in her than any decent woman would welcome from such a notorious man.
    She debated how to end his game as she fell asleep, and took up the matter again when she woke. Just as she admitted that she was only vulnerable because she did not find him as repulsive as she should, a maid brought her breakfast.
    There was no mail, of course, but the day’s Times came up with the tray. She read it while she ate at a table set near the window.
    An article that reported the growing unrest among workers in the north captured her attention. She looked for familiar names of towns up there to see if violence threatened people that she knew. She prayed that those she loved would be safe, and also the others she knew in that region.
    Toward the end of the article, however, another reference arrested her gaze.
    The paper noted that Lord Latham, now the new Duke of Becksbridge, was expected to come up to London soon. It speculated that the prime minister would make it a point to meet with him, and proffered the opinion that Latham’s recently published essay, in which he preached that a return to obedience to civil and natural law was critical to England’s future, had found great favor within the government and army.
    The article dimmed her mood. Thinking about Latham usually did. Fortunately, she had not had much cause to for years. Clearly that respite was over.
    She would have to obtain this new essay of his. It would be comical to read. A return to civil and natural law, indeed. As she remembered it, this man had little conscience and thought himself above all laws. No doubt he believed that only the lower orders of society should be obedient.
    The maid came to take her tray. A footman accompanied her and presented a calling card.
    Lady Hawkeswell was down below.
    Ten minutes later Verity breezed into the bedchamber, threw her silk reticule on the bed, and removed her bonnet to reveal the artful curls into which her dark hair had been dressed.
    Verity possessed the most fashionable kind of beauty—ivory skin, red lips, dark hair—to a degree that annoyed certain ladies of society who did not think nature, let alone Lord Hawkeswell, should have favored a woman with Verity’s common background.
    “You should have chosen one of the other chambers,” Verity said. “This one may face the park, but it also faces west and will be very warm on a summer afternoon. There is no sitting room attached either.”
    “Its size suited me, as did its prospects and its light colors.” She took Verity’s hand and urged her to sit. “How did you learn so quickly that I was here?”
    Verity moved the chair up the wall so the sun, already pouring in as she had warned, did not blind her. “Celia sent me a note this morning. She in turn learned from her husband, who had learned of it while in the City.”
    “I don’t suppose you know how Mr.