Free A Gentleman's Honor by Stephanie Laurens Page B

being murdered—stabbed—just along the path there?”
    From the corner of his eye, Tony saw the lady point into the garden.
    “ Well! It seems he was blackmailing some lady—a widow.”
    “No! Who?”
    “Well, of course no one knows, do they?”
    “But someone must have some idea, surely.”
    “One hardly likes to speculate, but… you do know who he was speaking with just before he left this room and walked to his death, don’t you?”
    “No.” The second woman’s voice dropped to a strained whisper. “Who was it?”
    Tony shifted and saw the first lady lean close to her companion and whisper the answer in her ear.
    The second lady’s eyes widened; her jaw dropped. Then she looked at the first. “ No! Truly?”
    Lips thinning, the first lady nodded.
    The second flicked open her fan and waved it. “Great heavens! And she with that ravishing sister of hers in tow. Well! ”
    Tony fought to keep his expression from hardening, from revealing anything of the maelstrom of emotions that rose up and buffeted his mind—and him. Inwardly grim, he spent a few more minutes with the sweet young things, then excused himself and headed for the door.
    Only to have Felicité step into his path. “You’re not leaving so soon?” She put a hand on his arm; immediately concern flared in her eyes. She lowered her voice. “What is it?”
    He hesitated, then said, “I’m engaged on some business. I have to go.”
    Her concern only deepened. “I thought you’d finished with such things.”
    His short laugh was harsh. “So did I. But not yet.” He eased her hand from his sleeve and bowed over it. “I must go—there’s someone I have to see.”
    Her gaze had flicked to where he’d been, then to the garden. He could see the connections forming in her mind. He stepped away.
    She looked back at him. “If you must go, you must, but take care. And you must tell me later.”
    With a curt nod, he left. For once, he didn’t stop to consider his plan.
     
    Alicia strolled the clipped lawns of the park in the wake of Adriana and her swains. A morning promenade was becoming a regular event in their schedule. The gentlemen preferred the less-structured, less-cramped encounters such a stroll allowed; it gave them more time to worship at her sister’s feet unfettered by any need to pay attention to any other young lady.
    She’d countered that by inviting Miss Tiverton to walk with them. Adriana now strolled beside that young lady while five perfectly eligible gentlemen vied for their attention.
    The most prominent, and most assiduous, was Lord Manningham. Alicia studied the undeniably attractive figure he cut in his morning coat, pale, tightly fitting breeches, and black Hessians. His address was polished without being oversmooth, his features were handsome rather than beautiful.
    He was turning Adriana’s head, and her sister knew it.
    It was time, perhaps, to learn more of Geoffrey Manningham.
    Especially as he was apparently a friend of Lord Torrington’s. He who had almost-kissed her, who without provocation let alone permission had deliberately teased her in her own front hall.
    The moment flared in her mind; her nerves tensed…
    Ruthlessly, she bundled the memory aside—he probably did such things all the time. She refocused on Adriana and her court. Adjusting her parasol, she strolled on.
    She had no warning, no premonition of danger, until she heard herself hailed in a voice that cut like a whip.
    She whirled, but Torrington was already upon her. Hard fingers closing manacle-like about her elbow, he swung her around and marched her down the lawn, away from the carriageway.
    “What—?” She tried to free her arm, but couldn’t. She glared at him. “Unhand me, sir!”
    He ignored her. He strode on, forcing her with him; she either had to keep up, or stumble and fall. His face was set like stone, his expression unforgivingly grim. Thunderclouds would have looked more comforting.
    She glanced back at the others,