Page 117 of Rules for Ruin

“Miss Flite?” Mary poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb you, miss, but Lady Belwood requests your presence in the drawing room.”

“Now?” Effie asked, incredulous.

Mary cast an interested look at Effie’s carpetbag. “At once, miss.”

“Very well.” Effie settled Franc back on the bed. Giving him one final pet of reassurance, she exited the bedroom. She followed Mary down a flight of stairs to the drawing room.

Lady Belwood awaited her there on the brocade sofa. She wasn’t alone.

“Miss Flite.” Lord Compton rose as Effie entered, a cold smile curving his thin lips. “The very person I’ve come to see.”

Effie stared at the man for a full five seconds. Her every instinct told her to flee. She ignored the impulse. She wasn’t going to run only to be caught in some ignominious fashion. Compton was the one in the wrong, not her. Despite the anxiety pulsing in her veins, she had no intention of showing even a scintilla of fear.

She summoned a smile. “Lord Compton. How delightful.”

Lady Belwood looked between the two of them with a frown. She fluttered her pastel painted fan, appearing much vexed. “His lordship has a matter he most earnestly wishes to discuss with you,” she said to Effie. “If you would be so obliging?”

“Of course.” Effie came to join them.

“There is no need for you to stay, my lady,” Lord Compton said to Lady Belwood. “The matter is between me and your ward.”

“As you mentioned.” Lady Belwood stood. “Though I must say it is most irregular. Were it anyone but you, sir, I would insist on remaining to chaperone Miss Flite.”

Effie’s gaze held Compton’s. “I require no chaperone,” she replied to her hostess. “But I thank you for your consideration.”

Lady Belwood reluctantly departed the room. Lord Compton followed her to the door, closing it behind her. He turned to face Effie. He didn’t mince words.

“You have something of mine,” he said.

“I don’t,” she replied.

Compton walked back to her. He motioned to the sofa. “Do sit down. This needn’t become unpleasant.”

Effie preferred to remain standing. She folded her arms.

His lips flattened. “Very well. If this is how you wish to proceed…” He stopped in front of her. “There are severe punishments for theft, young lady. Just as there are severe punishments for assault. You may believe that you—and your pretty neck—will find neither of them to your liking.”

“I’ve stolen nothing,” Effie said. “And I’ve assaulted no one.”

“My butler would beg to differ.”

“Your butler? That hulking brute better suited to a bare-knuckle brawl?”

“Parker does what I require of him. He looks after my person, and he protects my valuables. Not half an hour ago, he was grievously injured in the pursuit of his duties. I’m informed it was you who injured him.”

“You believe that a woman of my stature could harm a man as large and forbidding as he?”

“Yes, it is extraordinary,” Compton allowed. “But the evidence—”

“It was he who assaulted me. I merely defended myself.”

“You stabbed the man with one of your hairpins, Miss Flite, in the course of robbing my library. I presume this has something to do with Royce. He’s ensnared you—ruined you, I don’t doubt—in an effort to ruin me.”

“Mr. Royce has nothing to do with this.”

“Is it greed, then? You think to sell my book and make yourself a tidy profit?”

“It isn’t your book,” Effie said.