Free Love's Peril (Lord Trent Series) by Cheryl Holt Page B

Mr. Sinclair had been out on the verandah with Mr. Hook. They’d looked guilty, like conspirators hatching a scheme, and hadn’t she felt from the very beginning that he was a dodgy fellow?
    He never gave a straight answer to any question, never admitted his business or even his true name. And he was French—though he pretended not to be.
    Hedley had been alone in London, where he liked to be noticed, where he liked to have others presume he was more important than he could ever be.
    A fool like Hedley would be bait for a shark like Mr. Sinclair. She was convinced their meeting hadn’t been an accident. Had Mr. Sinclair specifically plotted to ruin Hedley? Or had Hedley simply been an easy mark who’d crossed Mr. Sinclair’s path at the wrong moment?
    Sarah jumped to her feet.
    “Where are you going?”Caroline asked.
    “To find Mr. Sinclair. I have to put a stop to this.”
    “How can you?’
    “He’s fond of me. I’ll beg him; he’ll be merciful.”
    “I wouldn’t count on it, Sarah. Mr. Hook says they’re very determined.”
    Sarah started for the door just as Mildred entered the room.
    “How long have you known about this?”Sarah seethed.
    Panic flashed in Mildred’s eyes, but she quickly tamped it down.
    “Known about what?”she blandly inquired.
    “About Hedley’s gambling loss. About the fact that Mr. Sinclair owns my home.”
    “It’s my home, too.”
    “It was my father’s home, my ancestors’ home. Not yours.” Sarah was surprised by the venom in her voice. “You never liked it here.”
    “It hardly matters now, does it? Not when it’s all gone.”
    “How long have you known?”
    Sarah shouted the query, her words ringing off the high ceiling. At witnessing Sarah’s rage, Mildred blanched and stepped away, which was a good thing. If she’d been within reach, Sarah might have slapped her.
    “Four or five months,”Mildred baldly admitted.
    “Were you ever planning to tell me?”
    “I planned to tomorrow—after it was truly over.”
    Sarah sagged with defeat. “What am I to do? Couldn’t you—for once in your life—have thought of me and that perhaps I could have used some time to make arrangements for myself?”
    “Why haven’t I thought of you?”Mildred scoffed. “Why do you suppose I’ve been pleading with you to marry Sheldon? Were I you, I’d haul myself over to his house immediately and persuade him to have you while he’s still willing—for I’m sure that when the details are generally disseminated, he might not be quite so smitten.”
    “You witch,”Caroline muttered.
    “As to you,”Mildred said to Caroline, “if you’re here in the morning, I’m writing to Archibald to inform him of where you are. He can come fetch you—with my blessing.”
    She whipped away and stomped out.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Feeling as if she was marching to the gallows, Sarah approached the door to Mr. Sinclair’s room. She knew she shouldn’t have come again, but she had to speak with him immediately.
    After Mildred had stormed off, Sarah had flagged down a housemaid and asked about the card game.
    It was starting in an hour, in a downstairs parlor. A dozen footmen would spend the night, carting in liquor and cigars and food. The bacchanal would continue until Mr. Sinclair had won everything from Hedley yet again. There would be no stopping him until he’d proved his point—whatever it might be.
    Once he’d crushed Hedley beneath his boot, once he’d humiliated Hedley one last time, what would become of her brother? What would become of all of them?
    She knocked and knocked, but received no answer, so she pressed her ear to the wood. Inside, she could hear voices. She spun the knob and walked in. The sitting room and bedchamber were empty, and boldly, she kept on, foolishly proceeding to the dressing room where the voices grew more distinct.
    She halted in the doorway and studied the sordid scene.
    Mr. Sinclair and Miss Dubois were together, preparing as if to attend a fancy