All About Seduction(55)

Yet, Mrs. Broadhurst had probably campaigned hard for this opportunity for him.

Like a loom clicking back and forth he was beginning to see a pattern emerge from the myriad threads coming together. The liquor, the maids’ conversations. And he didn’t like it. “What did Mr. Broadhurst’s guarantee of a position cost you?”

Her expression of dismay flickered so fast he almost missed it. “Nothing.”

Intent on every movement of her face, Jack knew it was a lie. “Mr. Broadhurst does nothing out of compassion unless he can profit from it.”

“He is not so horrible as that.” She nudged her chin up with a tiny head shake.

Her ready defense almost surprised him, but Jack disputed her denial. “Canny and shrewd he is. He profits from granting your wishes somehow.”

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if Mrs. Broadhurst had used the oldest bargaining chip a woman had with her husband, but he also was aware of how much he already owed her. Subjecting herself to any trial on his behalf had gone beyond proving her point that the little children should not work in the mill.

“I owe you too much already for you to put yourself out unnecessarily,” he said. “I will get by with or without your assistance.” Why would she even care?

Her mouth flattened. “I offered Mr. Broadhurst nothing I had not already agreed to. He wants a great deal from me right now, and I see no reason to not extract as much as possible in return.”

“Spoken like a true tycoon.”

She cast him an exasperated look, but he could see the hint of amusement in the crinkles at the corner of her eyes. Her hand came off the doorknob and she took a step toward him.

She wasn’t close enough yet, but he held his breath, willing her to close the distance between them. He would do a lot to see her smile, but he feared his care was just another burden. “What does he want of you?”

She stiffened and the light mood was broken. He sensed her pulling away, and although she only moved back an inch or two, it was as if a great yawning river flowed into the breach between them, cutting off any hope he had of bridging to her side.

“I shall check on you later,” she said.

At least she had not thwarted his question with a new lie. Most likely she had promised a bit of wifely duty to her husband in exchange for Mr. Broadhurst offering him a clerk’s position.

Emptiness gaped in Jack. She was another man’s wife. And much as he found the idea of her with that man disgusting, he could do nothing to stop it. Nor would she want him to.

Caroline served the after dinner tea, then moved to the window. She stood looking out at the rain streaming down and waited for Mr. Berkley to come to her side. He didn’t. Instead he and several of the men played cards.

She glanced toward the table, and Mr. Berkley met her eyes. Well, at least he was aware of her.

She wished she were downstairs reading to Jack. His response to her offer of a clerking position surprised her. She’d thought he’d be grateful, but instead he asked her what the bargain cost her. The concern in his eyes almost undid her, and she’d needed to leave before her composure crumbled.

His opinion of Mr. Broadhurst was not high, and she was inclined to agree with him. Had her husband killed his last wife? She traced a pattern in the fog on the glass. If anyone were smart enough to outwit the authorities, he probably was.

What exactly she was to do with the information—assuming she could verify it—she didn’t know. Her heart thumped erratically.

Finally, Mr. Broadhurst rose and wished the gentlemen good-night. He cast a narrow-eyed glance in Caroline’s direction before exiting the room. She waited until fifteen interminable minutes clicked by and then carefully ducked out of the room.

By now the servants would have removed all of the dishes from the dining room. She would just creep down and retrieve her slipper, and then look in on Jack before seeking her own bed. After all, if Mr. Berkley wasn’t going to pursue her further tonight, she wouldn’t sit around waiting for him to notice her. After what happened at the dining room table, he could be in no doubt she was amenable to more.

The gas girandoles waged a futile battle against the darkness, barely providing enough light to see her way down the stairs and across the cold cavern of the entryway. Light peeped out from under the library doors. One of the gentlemen must have slipped out to read instead of joining in the card game.

Not wanting to be caught out, Caroline quickly slipped into the dark dining room. She left the door cracked to allow in a little light. Please, please, let her slipper still be there.