The Daring Miss Darcy (Lost Ladies of London #4)(67)

“I doubt it is a coincidence.” Vane cursed inwardly. After their earlier conversation, no doubt Lady Cornell told him where she had been and what she had discovered in the process.

“Why would he ask to meet you at the museum? Is it not closed?”

“Cornell works closely with the curators. Quite often he sources new pieces and rearranges displays. When it comes to antiquities and the study of ancient cultures, there is not a man in London more knowledgeable.” He hated paying the scoundrel a compliment.

“And he works there this late?” Her voice held a nervous edge.

“He’s been known to work through the night on many occasions.” Vane returned to address his butler. “Have Wickett ready the carriage. I shall be down as soon as I’m dressed.”

“Shall I wake Pierre, my lord?”

“No. I’ll see to things myself.” The last thing he wanted was the Frenchman stumbling upon the naked woman in his bed.

Vane closed the door. He could sense Estelle’s anxiety before he turned to face her.

“You’re not going?” She climbed out of bed and came to stand before him in all her wondrous glory.

He drank in the sight of her soft breasts, of the gentle flare of her hips. He stared at her in awe, in lust, in love. “I must.”

“But why? Has he not already caused untold damage to your life?”

“Which is why I must put an end to it once and for all.”

She placed her warm hands on his chest. “Don’t go. Forget about them. I cannot imagine he simply wants to talk.”

“Estelle, the man is a menace, as is his wife. I shall not have either of them ruining things for us now.”

Her breathing grew ragged. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“The hell you are. I don’t trust either of them.”

She ignored him, moved to the pile of discarded garments and found her chemise. “Either I come with you, or I’ll make my way there alone.” The thin chemise slithered over her body to distract him momentarily. She continued dressing, the firm set of her mouth and determined stare a sign he should not challenge her.

Vane was unused to being defied. But then he would rather have Estelle with him than sit wondering when she would appear.

“Then you’re to remain in the carriage,” he said as if he was in control of this situation.

“If that is what you wish.”

Vane entered his dressing room, rummaged around in the armoire and returned dressed in his usual black garb. Estelle sat on the edge of the bed, her boots fastened, her cloak tied around her shoulders and the hood raised. She’d plumped the pillow and straightened the coverlet. He’d forgotten she was accustomed to making her own bed.

“Are you ready?” she asked, and he thought he saw a guilty glint in her eye.

“I was born ready.”



Wickett drove past the museum and brought the carriage to a stop on Russell Street, some three hundred yards away, as Vane instructed.

Shrouded in her black cloak, Estelle sat opposite, staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. “This is madness.”

“Yes, but it is necessary.” Since the embarrassing incident with Fabian, Cornell had hidden in the shadows. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t planning his revenge.

“So necessary you’re willing to risk your life?” she mocked.

“There is nothing to fear. The night you stumbled upon me in the alley I’d been brawling with two rogues.”

“And look how it ended. You were practically unconscious when we found you.”

Only because the wolfhound sought to distract him. “I am more than capable of defending myself against Cornell.”

Estelle glanced out of the window at the dimly lit street. “But you don’t know the museum as he does. The smugglers always outwitted the revenue men because they knew every hiding place.”

“Don’t worry about me. Thirty minutes and I’ll be back.” Perhaps with an appointment to meet at dawn on Hampstead Heath.

She crossed the carriage and fell into his lap. “I cannot lose you now. Not after all we have been through.”

Vane kissed her: a slow, languorous affair that stirred his loins and teased his senses. “Only when we’ve dealt with the past, can we think about the future.”

“Mr Erstwhile would disagree.”

“Mr Erstwhile is not here. And in this instance, I’m confident of his support.” He kissed her again for good measure. “Now, promise me you will wait here until I return.”

She shook her head. “I cannot do that.”

“You cannot wait, or you cannot promise?”

“Both.”

“God damn, Estelle, must you be so stubborn? How can I deal with Cornell if I’m worried about you?” He lifted her up and deposited her on the seat opposite, then he opened the door and dropped to the pavement.

“Will you not at least take a weapon?”

The museum was full of ancient swords and spears. One of those would suffice. “I can always hit him over the head with a marble bust.” When she failed to find it amusing, he added, “Should anything untoward happen, I’ll not have the magistrate believe I entered the building with intent.”

She huffed and then thumped the seat.