Page 68 of An Inconvenient Duke

Marcus was beginning to think that John Porter’s warning to Elise to avoid Scepter was simply that—a warning to steer clear.

It was Hartsham who’d murdered her to cover up the lists he was keeping. And the man who would pay dearly for it.

“Once the woman is delivered,” Clayton assured him, “then we find out what she knows and follow her back to Hartsham. At that point, we’ll have enough proof of wrongdoing that my men can search his properties for evidence of blackmail.”

Marcus nodded. They would catch him in the act of extortion, and the last links to Elise’s murder would fall into place. If the names on Hartsham’s client list were the ones they both believed them to be, then the majority of peers in the Lords would find him guilty just to keep their own secrets from being revealed.

He would watch the bastard swing by his neck if it was the last thing he did.

“And Miss Williams?”

“She’ll be told later,” Marcus assured him. “Once it’s all done.” Once she was out of danger.

“If you do this without her,” Clayton warned, like Pearce and Merritt knowing all that had happened since his return to London—almostall, “she’ll be furious at you.”

“Then she’ll be furious.” He turned back toward the window and muttered, “But she’ll also be alive.”

And he’d finally have justice for his sister.

One way or another.

Twenty-One

Balancing her cup and saucer in one hand, Dani smiled at the ladies gathered inside Lady Balfour’s yellow drawing room the next afternoon and made her way toward the side buffet table where plates of biscuits, sandwiches, and cakes had been set out. She placed a biscuit on the edge of her saucer, right next to the other two she’d already taken when admonished by Lady Balfour that she wasn’t eating enough.

Enough? She hadn’t eaten at all. Heavens! How could she possibly think of food when all she could think about was Marcus?

He made her happy, certainly, more than she’d ever thought possible. When she was with him, she felt free to laugh and be herself in a way she’d never been able to do in the company of any other man. And being in his arms…oh, simply divine!

But all that happiness he brought her couldn’t prevent the niggling doubt that whispered a warning from the back of her mind that all this was merely temporary. That once Hartsham was arrested and Elise’s ghost could rest in peace, Marcus would no longer need her. That there would be no reason to spend time together, and whatever affections he held for her would undoubtedly fade.

When no one was looking, Dani carefully set all the biscuits back onto the tray.

Around her, the ladies of the Foundling Hospital’s Women’s Charity and Guidance Committee drank tea, nibbled on impossibly small sandwiches and tiny cakes, and spent more time gossiping than discussing the children they were there to help. Not one of them realized that Dani’s entire world had changed.

Not even Claudia Braddock.

Marcus’s sister currently stood on the other side of the room, surrounded by a group of women and chatting away about her engagement and plans for her wedding. So far, Dani had managed to dodge her this afternoon. Whenever she’d seemed about to approach, Dani skillfully maneuvered herself away to another group of ladies or to the sideboards for more tea or another untouched biscuit. Her diversions had worked, and Claudia hadn’t been able to capture her alone, to corner her into a conversation about Marcus. Dani didn’t think she could get through it without her expression giving away exactly what she and Marcus had done. Or her uncertainty over what would happen next.

But she only had a little while longer yet to keep on her toes. With the tea winding down and several of the ladies beginning to say their goodbyes, she would soon be able to slip away from Claudia completely with nothing more than a kiss on her cheek and a promise to call on her and Pippa soon.

Easier said than done, though. Even in the middle of explaining how she wanted a wedding breakfast with a Venetian theme, Claudia’s attention would wander across the room to Dani, and she’d frown in perplexed concern.

But Dani didn’t have the heart to confess anything to Marcus’s sister, certainly not her feelings for him, and plastered on a bright smile that belied the roiling knot of emotions inside her.

“Oh, isn’t the food simply divine?” Mrs. Peterson reached past Dani for another biscuit. “I plan on asking Balfour’s cook for all the recipes. Do you think she’d mind sharing? Oh, of course not! She’d be thrilled to be asked, I’m certain.” She jabbed the biscuit in the air to punctuate her point as she scurried away to return to the group of ladies near the bay window who had been discussing hosting a garden party for the group’s next event. “You really must have another one of these cinnamon bites!”

“Yes,” a voice said from behind Dani. “You really must.”

Claudia.

Forcing her brightest smile, Dani turned to face her. “Actually, I think I might ask for the recipes myself so that—”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Claudia accused in hushed tones so the two of them wouldn’t be overheard. But the other ladies had gotten into a squabble over plans for the organization’s next meeting and were too caught up in that to care what the two of them might be discussing. “As Marcus says, if the enemy won’t march to you, then you have to march to the enemy.”

Not letting her smile fade, she dropped her gaze to her teacup. “So I’m the enemy now.”

Claudia’s shoulders sagged. “That’s not at all what I mean. The exact opposite, in fact. But you haven’t been to Charlton Place since the dinner. We need you there, Danielle, and I don’t mean just for the wedding planning.” She tapped the edge of Dani’s saucer to capture her attention. “Marcus needs you.”