Julien cursed. Just what he bloody needed.
“There was a woman who interrupted the chit’s plan. She spun an outrageous lie in my favor.”
“Oh?”
“Don’t sound so bloody intrigued,” Julien muttered, thinking about the beauty with the heart-shaped face and cat-like blue eyes. Didshehave some ulterior motive? She’d appeared flustered, but then again, that could also be an act.
“Well, who is she?” Wrath demanded.
Good question. “I don’t know.”
Wrath’s look turned to one of disbelief. “Christ man, you should pay more attention.”
Julien shrugged. “She was wearing a pink dress.”
A snort. “So did half the women tonight.”
“She had hair the color of aged brandy.”
“Made an impression on you, did she?”
Julien shrugged. “Well, given the circumstances, how could she not?”
“Well, find her,” Wrath urged. “So long as her account favors you, then Dansbury will have difficulty pressuring Cranbrook. I almost feel sorry for the poor girl. She has no idea who she stepped in between.”
She might know exactly.
Julien shrugged out of his jacket as they reached his awaiting carriage and tossed it to his driver in distaste, his gloves following suit. Wrath shook his head without commenting.
“Join me at White’s?” Julien asked.
Wrath nodded. “Why not.”
The driver glanced down at the items in his hands. “How shall I see to these, Your Grace?”
Julien didn’t bother looking at the man as he followed Wrath.
“Burn them.”
Chapter 3
Problem. Big, big problem. What smell of possibility. This was the distasteful scent of disaster! She hid just outside the drawing room that housed their recent guests, wincing each time Lady Gabrielle’s complaints drifted through the doorway.
Drat. Drat. Drat.
She hadn’t thought these women would be so shameless as to hunt her down first thing in the morning. But then, given their schemes last night, could she truly be surprised?
She motioned Aubrey, their butler, over when he exited the room. “Are they refusing to leave even after you told them no one is available?”
The older man nodded. “Yes, my lady. They are rudely insistent on rooting themselves to the nearest sofa until they can get an audience with my lady.”
Elowyn sighed.
She shouldn’t have given such a foolish excuse. Touring drawing rooms? Who would believe that? How could she simply retract her nonsense now? She had tried her best to put the entire incident from her mind. Up till they knocked on her door, she hadn’t considered the consequence of taking the duke’s side by snapping back. Could she just claim ignorance? That she had too much wine?
Urgh.
I should never have followed Stagbourne!