Free The Wolfe Wager by Jo Ann Ferguson Page B

crept across his lips. “May I say that you look very well in the wake of your errands? ”
    She faltered, unsure what to say. No one else made her lose her wits as he did. As Quigley stepped back into the shadows, she said, “My aunt will be delighted with your call.”
    “I have not come to give you a look-in.” He reached beneath his light brown coat and pulled out a folded sheet. “As I informed your man, I wanted to deliver this to you personally. I thought you might wish to know that my uncle has left Town, so he is unable to respond to your invitation.”
    Vanessa struggled to keep her fingers from quivering as she reached for the letter she had labored to write last night after her visit to Almack’s. “Thank you,” she said softly.
    “My lady, I can see that I have disturbed you greatly when all I wished was to let you know that my uncle did not intentionally ignore this missive.”
    His deep voice, as he spoke the lies much more easily than she could have, contained such compassion that she raised her eyes before she realized her error. With her eyes caught by his gaze, which no longer was bereft of emotion, she feared he might be able to read her feelings more clearly than she could his.
    “I ask again,” he continued when she said nothing, “to be forgiven for intruding on you. I had considered giving the letter to Sir Wilbur Franklin, so he could deliver it to you this evening, but the obligation to see that it was put in your hands was mine.”
    “I truly appreciate your thoughtfulness.” She saw a flash of amusement in his eyes at her trite answer. “The baronet might not have appreciated its import.”
    Lord Brickendon’s smile stole some of the harsh edge from his face. “You are the one who is thoughtful, my lady, to be so generous with your compliments to Franklin. It did not take keen eyes to note how uncomfortable you were last evening. He can be stifling to any lady he has set his heart upon.”
    “I thought he was your friend.”
    Lord Brickendon laughed so lowly that the sound would not climb the stairs to her aunt’s ears. “I accept the faults of my friends, as they accept mine, for I need not worry that I might have to buckle myself to one of them.”
    When she smiled at his sally, Vanessa was astonished. She should not be smiling. In her hand, she held the proof that yet another route was closed to her. She should have been down-pinned, but she was not. Lord Brickendon’s teasing lightened her spirits.
    Knowing that she was being bold as brass, she asked, “Might you do me a favor, my lord?”
    “Another?” When she flushed, he added, “Of course, if it is within my power.” His eyes sparkled with the laughter in his voice. “What do you wish? A dragon slain? A castle stormed? A prisoner freed from a tower? I would do most anything to rid myself of the boredom of the endless rounds expected of one while in Town.”
    Vanessa almost told him what she really needed, because his jesting came so close to the truth. Lord Mendoff was well connected with the government, so mayhap his nephew might know of a way to help her. She shrugged aside that tempting thought. Despite his honorable behavior this morning, she knew too little about Lord Brickendon to trust him. Others had laughed at her assertion that Corey was alive. She had vowed that never again would she suffer that mortification. Somehow she would find her answers herself.
    “If it is not too much of an imposition, my lord, would you consider joining us this evening for a few hands of whist?” She heard voices coming toward the stairs and added in a rush, “I know my aunt would appreciate your company.”
    “And I could stand as a buffer between you and Franklin’s attentions?”
    His insight did not astonish her. He had revealed it every time they had spoken. She wished she could be as honest. “My lord, I had hoped that—in the presence of one he keeps in with—I might be able to see more clearly some of the fine