Free Confessions of a Scoundrel by Karen Hawkins Page A

friend, Viscount Wycham.”
    â€œI was supposed to meet him before I left for Bath, but he never showed. The last time I saw him, he was in danger of being tossed into debtor’s jail. He must have gotten his father to step in for him.”
    Marcus’s face registered disapproval. “He’s a bit old to be acting like a green one, isn’t he?”
    â€œYes, but he is the only son and the old earl has spoiled him. Did he say where he was staying?”
    â€œI didn’t speak with him. I was returning home from a meeting at the docks with the new shipmaster we just hired. I saw Wycham coming out of a tavern on the East Side.” Marcus frowned. “I don’t think he was happy to see me for as soon as he caught sight of the crest on the coach, he ducked back inside. I wonder what he was doing?”
    â€œWho knows? Wycham always walked his own path.” Brand glanced at his brother. “I’m surprised you’re here. I thought you’d sworn off Almack’s because of the stale cake.”
    â€œAunt Delphi came to visit and she wanted to see some of her friends.” Marcus cast a jaundiced eye toward the refreshment table. “I think they have the same exact pieces of cake that they had last time, and it has been four months.” He shifted his gaze back to Brandon. “Did you receive my note?”
    â€œOf course. I assume Chase has returned and is not happy.”
    â€œHe did indeed return. But as to his not being happy…” Marcus eyed Brand for a moment. “When you made your visit to Lady Westforth, I seemed to have been remiss in asking you for certain details.”
    A silent warning began to sound deep inside Brandon’s head. “Details? What details?”
    â€œOh I don’t know. Did the lady seem angry when you left?”
    What was this all about? Brandon frowned. “Not angry, really. She wasn’t happy I was there, but she seemed fine with our arrangement. Almost triumphant.”
    â€œHm. So you think the interview went well.”
    â€œIt went perfectly. Why? Are she and Chase still—”
    â€œNo. Nothing like that.”
    Brand realized that his hands were curled into fists. He relaxed them now. “Good.”
    â€œIt’s strange, but when I informed Chase that we had taken care of Lady Westforth and that she would no longer be bothering him, he had a most peculiar reaction.” Marcus pursed his lips. “Helaughed. And for a very long period of time. Apparently Lady Westforth sent him on his way a good two days before you arrived on her doorstep.”
    Damn it! She had tricked him. But despite his irritation, Brandon had to admit to a faint sense of appreciation.
    Marcus’s gaze narrowed. “I take it she didn’t bother to inform you of that fact.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œYou never mentioned how much it cost to win her cooperation. What did you pay her?”
    Brandon hated to say, but Marcus pinned him with a determined stare. “Five thousand pounds.”
    â€œFive—we’ve never had to pay more than three before. What happened?”
    â€œShe was persuasive. Very,” Brandon said. No wonder the chit had been in such high humor—she’d all but robbed him. Worse, he’d spent a good amount of time talking her into the higher amount. He’d almost insisted on it, now that he thought about it. “That little minx.”
    â€œOh, she didn’t stop there. That’s why I wanted to know your version of the meeting.”
    â€œ My version?” Brand blinked. “Then you’ve heard… her version?”
    â€œHave you noticed people are staring at you?”
    Brand started to say no, but then he remembered the women by the door. He glanced their way now and saw that they were still looking at him, giggling behind their gloved hands, whispering furiously.
    In fact, now that he took the time to peruse the ballroom, a number of