Her Wicked Highland Spy (The Marriage Maker #10)(3)

Again, thoughts of George Hearne popped up along the way. She huffed. Mercifully, her folly with the man had escaped society’s notice. She’d experienced bliss. She’d never known such delights of the flesh had existed. She was madly in love—until she’d caught him in bed with another gullible debutante, fresh from the country. George had leapt to his feet. Rosalyn’s temper had taken care of the rest. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she recalled the limping shuffle that plagued him in the days that followed. Ah yes, and his even limper explanation of blaming the cause on a fall from his horse.

The strains of the orchestra drifted from the ballroom as Rosalyn descended the grand staircase of Lady Preston’s London estate. After observing men for nearly three years, she knew enough about those dancing there to know a cup of hot tea and a good book were far superior. She smiled in anticipation. She’d yet to try the rose-and-lavender tea she’d purchased on St. James Street, and didn’t she still have two chapters left of that titillating novel? The one she’d hidden under her mattress at her aunt’s townhouse?

When she reached the landing, a voice called out behind her, “Lady Rosalyn!”

She turned to see a young maid dashing down the stairs. “Yes?”

The young woman bobbed a quick curtsey. “Lady Elana wishes to speak with you, my lady. If you’d be so kind as to follow me?”

Rosalyn paused. Lady Elana? It took her a moment to recall where she’d heard the name. Ah, yes. On occasion, her aunt had fondly spoken of her as a friend.

Rosalyn followed the maid back the way she’d come, past the drawing room and then down a side passage to a small, private study.

The maid opened the door and stood aside, revealing an elegant, dark-haired lady seated on the sofa near the fire. As Rosalyn entered, the lady rose in greeting. Her exquisite scarlet silk gown draped her slender figure in flattering folds, and her diamond pendant glittered at her neck like a small, captured star.

“Lady Elana.” Rosalyn dipped in respect.

The woman bestowed a gracious smile and sank back to her seat, then gave the cushion next to her an inviting pat. “Do join me, Rosalyn. I’ve just come from visiting your aunt, Lady Sarah and Sir Stirling James.”

Sir Stirling James. Rosalyn smiled. He’d married her cousin, Chastity. She’d always gotten along with the man famously well. “And how is Sir Stirling? It’s been too long since I’ve seen him.” She took her place and arranged her skirts.

“He sends his warm greetings.” Lady Elana nodded, then leaned closer. “I do beg your pardon, but I’ll come directly to the point. Sir James has recommended I speak with you on a most sensitive matter. I’m told you are the very soul of discretion, and I’ve come for your help.”

A ‘sensitive matter’ meant only one thing: an investigation. Rosalyn drew her brows in a faint frown. “I wasn’t aware Sir Stirling knew of my endeavors.”

The woman’s eyes widened, but she answered quickly enough, “Your reputation precedes you, my dear, and Lady Margot has personally recommended you, as well.”

Rosalyn’s frown vanished. Lady Margot. She’d had a much happier ending than Amelia. Margot’s intended had proven loyal and true. He’d rated a solid seven. Rosalyn smiled. “I would be absolutely delighted to assist you, my lady. Who is the gentleman in question?”

Lady Elana looked relieved. “Ethan Brodie of Brodie. Do you, by chance, know him?”

“My aunt has mentioned him a time or two.” Actually, her aunt spoke highly of the man, and often. “I believe he’s in London for the season, but I’ve yet to see him.”

“Indeed,” Lady Elana muttered in a sharp tone, but after clearing her throat, she sounded as cool and as calm as before, “I do so desperately need your services, Rosalyn.”

Rosalyn smiled politely. “And how long do we have? I do not mean to pry, but has he already asked for your hand?”

“Heavens, no.” Lady Elana drew back. “I do not ask for myself. I seek information on behalf of another.”

“I…see,” Rosalyn replied. “This is a rather unusual arrangement. Would it be possible to speak with the intended bride directly? While I do provide a reliable scoring of a man’s temperament, interests, hygiene, and ranking of fidelity, I also seek answers to any delicate questions a lady might have.”

“Delicate questions?”

Rosalyn eyed the woman. She was clearly a well-educated, sophisticated woman of the world, and as such, Rosalyn drove closer to the point than she otherwise would have. “My lady, many debutantes who come to me know very little of what might please a man, or the details of what to expect. I try my best to provide such advice, as much as I can.”

A gleam of what Rosalyn could swear was amusement flashed across Lady Elana’s face, but it vanished before she could be sure.

“Quite admirable.” The woman offered a warm smile, then leaned closer. “May I be blunt, my dear?”

“Please, do.”

“Ethan’s intended is a keen-witted, enchanting, and very lovely young woman who is not lacking in such knowledge—which is a boon, to be sure. Men such as Lord Brodie prefer experience in the boudoir, and they find nothing more seductive than a woman who is not, shall we say, inhibited.”

Rosalyn arched a brow. “I mean no offense, my lady, but while men may prefer experience, they most often do not marry it.”