Free Only Scandal Will Do by Jenna Jaxon

wounded.” Matthews’s voice was a wisp of sound.
    “I acted with honor, sir,” he said, the words clipped, icy. “There was nothing else to do. I then chose to leave rather than be forced to hear the tittle-tattle during the whole of the London season. I just pray God it has died down by now.”
    “There are fresher scandals to be had this year, my lord. Hopefully none touching your family.” Matthews’s comment sounded offhand, but a threat seemed to lie just below the surface. The man knew something. Or believed he did.
    “But back to our business. You assert that this is your cloak?”
    “I assert nothing of the sort, sir . I merely said it was like one I had misplaced.”
    “And is this it, my lord?” Matthews thrust the black cloth into his hands. “I would think you recognized it now.”
    “Take care, sir!” The warning flashed like quicksilver. In reality, he was a peer–not above the law, perhaps, but on very good terms with it.
    “Your pardon, Lord Dalbury.” The man appeared to realize he did have boundaries.
    Duncan fingered the fine material, stalling for time. “You have yet to tell me where you came by this garment, Matthews. I admit it is very like mine, but there must be many black cloaks of quality in London.”
    “I believe it originated in Madame Vestry’s House of Pleasure on March fifteenth, my lord.”
    A hiss escaped Duncan before he could catch himself, though he knew full well where that cloak had been found.
    “You were there, were you not, my lord? I questioned Madame Vestry this morning. The cloak only came to light last night.”
    Duncan forced his jaw to relax, and gave Matthews the rueful smile he had practiced this morning, for such a moment. “Madame Vestry told you, then, of our assignation?”
    “Your assignation? Yours and who else’s?”
    “Amorina Vestry’s, of course.” He stifled a look of triumph at Matthews’s crestfallen expression.
    “You went to the House of Pleasure to see Madame Vestry?”
    Duncan nodded, completely unabashed. “She was my mistress for several years before I left for Italy. Even though our relationship came to light rather publicly last year, when I returned in March I sought to renew our acquaintance. Not very prudent, perhaps, but then some appetites cannot be sated. But she told you this, of course?”
    Matthews shook his head. “Madame Vestry informed me that you had successfully bid at the tableau auction. She mentioned nothing of an arrangement between you and her.” His tone changed as he now spoke frankly. “I do not yet know the truth of the matter, but if Madame Vestry spoke falsely to me, I have reason to believe she is trying to embroil you in yet another scandal, my lord.”
    Duncan swallowed hard. “What scandal?”
    “A young gentlewoman was kidnapped on March fifteenth and held against her will at Vestry’s establishment. I fear the madam, for whatever reason, may be trying to link your name to this woman.”
    “Christ!” Amorina, whom he had treated as a cherished companion for two years, had betrayed him. Had perhaps even engineered the whole scandal to bring about his utter ruin.
    Duncan walked unsteadily to the sideboard, poured half a tumbler of brandy and took a healthy draught. He stared at his glass, contemplating his options. There seemed to be only one.
    “I assume you are investigating the young woman’s disappearance?” he asked wearily.
    “Oh, she is recovered, my lord. Safe at home with her family. That is how the cloak came to me. She wore it that night when she left the House of Pleasure, but it was misplaced in the furor of the lady’s recovery.” Matthews’s lips thinned. “As she is my kinswoman, I have vowed the villain or villains who abducted her will pay dearly for their actions.” His fervency was touching and horrifying at the same time.
    “Your kinswoman?” Since when did a Runner have noble connections? The situation was spiraling into the realm of nightmare.
    “A