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“Where have you been, Raynerson?” Fairchild asked harshly before moving to his seat behind the battered desk.
“Attempting to drive through the atrocious streets of London.” Jack sat in the chair across from him. “Is there some issue that has arisen?”
Fairchild’s office was nondescript at best. The old oak desk had one leg propped up with a stack of papers to keep it from wobbling. The walls were barren save one large map of London and a second of England. The man himself was just as bland, with graying brown hair and a jacket that was at least ten years out of style, and when he rose, he barely came up to Jack’s chin.
“It has been four days since I gave you this assignment and you have not written one report with an update on what you have uncovered.” Fairchild flipped through a few papers on his desk. “Lord Stanhope wants answers.”
Jack laughed. “No, Lord Stanhope wants his father’s fortune.”
“Which he is entitled to if Lady Stanhope had something to do with her husband’s death.”
“And if she didn’t?”
Fairchild smirked. “Please tell me you have not fallen for her infamous charms. She is a renowned temptress, enticing all three of her husbands into marriage.”
“Is she? I thought we were supposed to find the truth, not just confirm what the gossips say.”
Fairchild glared over at him and shook his head. “Stanhope knows his stepmother killed his father and all we need to do is find the proof.”
“And if Stanhope is so certain, where is his proof?”
“Raynerson, enough. What have you discovered so far?”
“Very little, Fairchild. The gossips are all convinced, yet I am not so certain. She has a great friend in the Duke of Worthington. I rather doubt he would continue his friendship with her if he thought she was actually a murderess.”
Fairchild rubbed his chin. “Perhaps, but either way we need tangible proof.”
“Which is going to take some time. I need to get closer to her, infiltrate her home, and look around. So far, I have not been past the receiving salon.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” Fairchild asked.
Jack shrugged. “Seduction has crossed my mind.”
Fairchild shook his head slowly. “I do not like that idea. If she truly is a killer and discovers what you are about, she might attempt to kill you, too.”
“I have considered that, Fairchild. But it is the only way to get into the house, befriend the servants, and have full access to what she might be hiding.”
“I suppose so, but it puts you at risk.” Fairchild rose from his chair. “Stanhope believes his father was poisoned with something that acts relatively slowly. That could explain the other two husbands dying sometime after leaving their homes. I must tell you that Stanhope is not a patient man. If he doesn’t receive some indication of progress soon, he will take this to Bow Street.”
“I will investigate the poison aspect,” Jack said, wondering whom he might know with knowledge of poisons, other than the dowager. But first, he needed to see Lady Stanhope one more time. “Good day, Fairchild.”
He left Fairchild’s office just as the light of day started fading to a dewy pink of evening. After meeting with Fairchild, Jack realized he needed to increase his pace. Fairchild’s business depended on his investigators’ secrecy and speed of finalizing his client’s requests. Being in competition with the Bow Street runners meant all Fairchild’s investigators had to be the best.
As the carriage stopped in front of Lady Stanhope’s home, he disembarked the carriage and then headed for the door. Before he could even reach for the knocker, Roberts opened the door with a slight frown on his face.
“Good evening, Roberts. Is Lady Stanhope at home?”
“Please come in, Mr. Raynerson. I shall see if her ladyship is receiving callers at this late hour.” Roberts opened the doors to the small receiving salon. “Please wait here.”
Once the butler left him alone, Jack moved to the small tables by the sofa and opened the drawers. Nothing inside, save a few letters from relatives and a book of sonnets. He quickly closed the drawer as the sound of footsteps drew near.
“Good evening, Mr. Raynerson,” she said as she entered the room. “This is quite a surprise.”
He turned around and swore softly under his breath. Wearing only a simple yellow muslin gown, she looked as if she had just stepped inside from a walk in a field of sunflowers. But he wondered why that brought his lust to the surface. There was nothing particularly daring about the dress with the fichu insert hiding her beautiful rounded breasts, or her simple upswept hair. Still, one look at her and he wanted to slowly remove every pin holding up her auburn tresses and then strip away each layer of her clothing until she was naked under him.
“Mr. Raynerson?” she asked quietly.
“I apologize, Countess. You caught me woolgathering.” He walked over and bowed over her hand. “You look quite beautiful this evening.”
“Thank you.” She pulled her hand back slowly from his grip. “What brings you here at this hour?
Why hadn’t he thought of an excuse for calling on her? He blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I do hope I’m not too late?”
Confusion crossed her face. “Late for what?”
“Dinner, of course. You did invite me for dinner, did you not?”
“I did?” she mumbled.
“Yes, right after you kissed me last night,” he added for good measure.
She shook her head slowly. “I didn’t kiss you. You kissed me. And I’m quite certain I did not invite you to dinner.”
He pursed his lips. “Indeed? That is not the way I remember it. I suppose I shall have to return to my brother’s house and see if Cook can find something cold for me to eat.”
“That is nonsense.” She moved toward the door. “Roberts, tell Mrs. Williams that there shall be two for dinner tonight.”
“Yes, my lady.”
She turned around with a slight smile. “The next time you are hungry you only need to ask, not make up lies about invitations to dinner and me kissing you.”
He crossed the room until he was only inches away. “But, my dear, you did kiss me. I am quite certain of that.” He leaned in next to her ear until he felt her quiver. “I definitely remember you kissing me and your tongue brushing against mine until I wanted to die from the pleasure of it.”
“That is not at all how I remember last night,” she whispered, staring up at him. Her blue eyes shimmered with mischief.
“Do I need to remind you?” He moved even closer until their lips were a breath away from each other. “I would be happy to jostle your memory.”
Her lips parted slightly inviting him to kiss her. Unable to stop himself, he closed the distance between them. Her lips tasted sweet like warm chocolate on a cold morning. But when her mouth opened, the sensation of her tongue on his was pure sin. He wanted to plunge deep inside her warmth, watch as she reached her climax, and then gaze into her eyes as he found his fulfillment. Lust filled his mind as he brought her hips against his. He slanted his lips over hers again and again. Drowning in the flood of desire, he wanted nothing more than to lay her on the settee and make love to her all night.
A rap at the door split them apart. Jack stepped behind the settee so no one would notice just how much he desired the countess. She quickly straightened her dress and opened the door.
“Yes, Roberts?”
“The Duke of Worthington is here to see you, my lady,” he replied, with a quick smirk toward Jack.
Somehow, he would need to get on Roberts’ good side for his plan to succeed, but he could not address that now. Knowing the duke was about to enter the room, he had to think about cold things, wretched things, anything to get his damned cock under control.
“Show him in,” Lady Stanhope replied, far too sweetly for his taste.
He tilted his head in a questioning manner to her but she only shrugged as if she had no idea why the duke was here at this hour. He quickly returned his thoughts to winter as his shaft slowly came back under his control.
As the duke entered the room, he stopped short, seeing Jack behind the sofa. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“It is no interruption, indeed, Your Grace. In fact, now that you both are here you must join me for dinner. I shall take no excuses from either of you.” She rose and walked to the hall to confirm the dinner plans with Roberts.
Jack walked to the closest chair and prayed the duke wouldn’t see the slight bulge still tenting his trousers. Damn embarrassing was what this was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d reacted to a woman in such a swift manner. Just seeing her was enough to get his blood pulsing through his veins.
“What brings you here tonight, Raynerson?” the duke asked as he took the chair closer to the sofa.
What excuse could he come up with? “I came to invite the countess to the opera tomorrow night. And you?” Damnation, he hated the opera but it was the first thing that came to his mind other than saying he was here to seduce her.
The duke pursed his lips in blatant disapproval. “As did I.”
“Well now, then I shall just have to settle on one of you for tomorrow,” she said as sauntered back into the room with a bright smile
“I suppose whoever is the better dinner companion shall win,” Jack commented.
“I believe that shall determine it,” she agreed.
The duke nodded his consent. “My dear, have you finished the last book I lent you?”
“Not quite yet. With Emma’s come out, I have been kept quite busy. Did you need it returned already?”
“Of course not, I was hoping for your opinion on it, that is all.” The duke glanced over at Jack as if trying to determine how to include him in the conversation. “How is your sister-in-law doing, Raynerson?”
“Having a difficult time of it, I’m afraid. Neville said it is far worse than the previous babes.”
“Do give her my regards. She is my godchild, you know.”
“I did not know that, Your Grace. I shall send your regards when I write to them tomorrow,” Jack replied. He glanced over at the clock wondering how much longer before dinner. The conversation seemed strained and he couldn’t help but feel the duke had an ulterior motive for arriving at this hour. He could have sent a message over to her about the opera. Then again, Jack could have done the same. Perhaps it was just an excuse for the duke much as it was for him. That idea worried him. The duke of all people should know exactly how any relationship other than friendship could end with her.
“Dinner is ready, my lady,” Roberts finally said from the threshold.
“Thank you, Roberts and please convey my thanks to Mrs. Williams.”
“Of course, my lady.”
Jack cringed as the duke rose from his chair far quicker than he did to escort Lady Stanhope into the dining room. The duke held out his arm for her as they walked from the room.
“Do hurry, Mr. Raynerson,” she said with a glance back at him with a slight smile. “This shall be a very interesting dinner.”
Jack doubted that. He had a feeling he had competition for her affections.
And that would never do.
Even worse was the realization that he would now have no choice but to eat dinner at the home of the Cursed Countess. He only hoped he survived the meal.