A Dash of Scandal(56)



He was supposed to be going over the array of account books on his vast estates that were spread out before him, but mostly he was brooding. And thinking of Millicent Blair.

Keeping a sharp eye on the management of his estates and holdings was the reason he’d been able to enjoy his extravagant lifestyle these past years. His father had given him a good start, but Chandler had been shrewd with his investments and the lands he purchased. His managers did an excellent job keeping his land prosperous and his tenants happy. He usually paid each of them a visit in the fall before the dead of winter set over the land.

He knew it to be true that in his younger years he had spent too much money gambling and racing horses, and too many nights in debauchery, but he never came close to endangering his wealth or his properties, though he may have endangered his life a time or two.

Today, he couldn’t concentrate. A certain young lady had captured his fancy and wouldn’t let go. Every time he tried to put her out of his mind, she came back to smile at him, tease him, beckon him. She intrigued him madly. He was sure if she would merely tell him he could call on her properly it would get her out of his mind. It was the chase that no doubt intrigued him.

He swung his chair around and stared out the open window without really seeing anything. It wasn’t like him to be so attracted to a woman that he couldn’t get her womanly scent out of his mind or the sweet taste of her lips out of his mouth. If he hadn’t taken control of himself yesterday afternoon, he would have undressed her right there in that shop—and she would have let him.

There was no doubt that she was as attracted to him as he was to her, yet she refused to have him call on her in a respectable manner. Still, he shouldn’t have let things go so far between them in such a public place.

Chandler had done some crazy things in his life, including entering a willing young lady’s bedroom window, but he had stopped that foolishness years ago. And even then, he did it for the sport, for the thrill of not getting caught, not because he was in love with the lady. He’d risked Millicent’s reputation and his freedom because he wanted to be with her.

He risked a lot for a lady he knew very little about. What was she hiding? He had settled for himself that she had nothing to do with the Mad Ton Thief, but why was she always making notes and being so secretive about her family? He should try to find out more about her before his heart became involved with her.

“Excuse me, Lord Dunraven.”

Chandler looked up to see his valet standing in the doorway, impeccably dressed. With thick gray hair smoothed away from his face, Peter Winston, a short broad-shouldered man, had been with Chandler since shortly after finishing his education.

Chandler had been immediately impressed with the older man when he’d interviewed for the job. Winston hadn’t cowered or become flustered from Chandler’s tough questioning. He’d remained confident and certain that he was the best man to serve Chandler, and Winston had never let him down.

“What is it, Winston?” he asked, turning back to his desk and the pretense of looking at the books before him. Fines was right, he’d done far too much woolgathering recently, and he hadn’t spent enough time thinking of ways to capture the Mad Ton Thief.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, my lord, but there’s a Mr. Percy Doulton here to see you. I inquired whether he had an appointment. He admitted he didn’t but hoped you might be available to see him.”

“Maybe at last the man has some news. Show him in.”

“Certainly. Should I bring in tea or will you be offering something stronger?”

“No need for either, Winston. I’m sure he won’t be long. Ask him to come in.”

Chandler stood and started closing books scattered on top of his desk. Within moments, the man walked in.

“How do you do, Doulton. Come in and make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you for seeing me, Lord Dunraven. I have some information that I wanted to share with you right away.”

“Good news, I hope.”

“No, not at all.” He took the winged chair in front of Chandler’s desk. “It appears that, despite all our efforts, there was another theft last night.”

Chandler sat down. “Damnation! Where?”

“At Lord Dovershaft’s.”

The name sent a cold chill up Chandler’s back. Last night, when he saw Millicent at Almack’s, she said she had just come from Lord Dovershaft’s. She said they were late because they got a late start. Was that the real reason? Had he exonerated her too quickly?

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