Page 21 of Unmasking the Earl

The sound of the door knocker crashed through his thoughts, and he dragged his mind back to the present.

It was Wednesday, the day appointed for Miss Blythe’s next visit, if she was foolish enough to come despite his warnings. Drying his cold hands quickly on his apron, he strode to the door. If it was her, he was honor bound to warn her away again.

Damn, too late! Matthews had already answered.

Ned withdrew into the shadows and watched as someone was let inside.

A shapely young woman with bronze-colored hair.

Miss Blythe. Back again, despite all he’d said.

He ground his teeth in frustration. The little fool was walking right into the wolf’s lair.

She glanced about as Matthews divested her of her outdoor clothing. When she saw Ned, color rose in her cheeks. Well, she should be embarrassed, coming back for more love-play with Wycherley.

He gave her his sternest, most disapproving look, the one that made even his own family back away from him. She blinked at him a few times, then turned her back and sailed into the drawing room while Matthews went to fetch Wycherley.

The minx!

Despite his firm intention not to interfere again, Ned strode to the door and paused outside, taking a deep, calming breath.

He had to make one last effort to deter her, lest she end up like his sister. Though he had yet to find proof, he believed Wycherley had deposited Georgiana—most certainly with child—in some obscure place, out of sight, out of mind. Ruined, and too ashamed to contact her family, she was now raising Wycherley’s by-blow in poverty somewhere. God forbid she was in a poorhouse, or even abroad, where he might never find her.

Meanwhile, the captain had happily returned to his former bachelor lifestyle, flirting with women, enticing them with his fine looks and his reputation for being an exceptional lover.

Miss Cassandra Blythe, with that bright, fresh face and those sparkling hazel eyes, would soon go the same way as his sister if no one exposed Wycherley for what he was. And soon.

Ned had to stop her.

He stepped into the room. Miss Blythe turned sharply and glared at him.

Before he could speak, the sound of rapid footsteps announced the arrival of Wycherley, and he was obliged to back away and make his bow.

“Ah, Miss Blythe,” the captain exclaimed. “How lovely to see you again. Ganstridge, what are you thinking, greeting visitors in your apron? Begone. I’ll ring if we need anything.”

So Ned was forced to leave with not a word exchanged between himself and Miss Blythe. Maybe his eyes had conveyed the message his tongue had not been able to. But he couldn’t afford to press his point in any other way.

If Wycherley dismissed him, the time for subtlety would be over. He would be forced to drag the whoreson through the courts—if his fists couldn’t get the truth out of him first.

One way or another, the world would know of that blackguard’s villainy.

Chapter Twelve

Cassie dredged up a smile as Captain Wycherley came to greet her with hands outstretched.

Really, that Ganstridge! He had just barged into the room, still wearing his damp apron and shooting her a look of such disdain she could have shouted at him, she really could! Yet, just as he turned to go, his expression had changed, leaving her more perplexed than angry. He’d seemed almost…sad.

“So, are you ready for your next lesson in how to seduce a man?” Wycherley’s smile was unnerving.

She must remember why she was here—to win the heart of Julian Carnforth.

Bolstering her courage, she replied, “Yes. Of course. What would you like me to do?”

Wycherley gazed at her speculatively for a moment, then said, “I would think twice, my dear, before saying anything like that to a renowned rake.”

“But you’re my tutor,” she said, forcing confidence into her voice. “I should be able to trust you.”

The corner of his lip curved. “Clearly, you’re new to this age-old game. But, yes, we made an agreement, and I intend to hold to it. Now, to the first lesson of the day.”