“Fair enough, but I’m afraid I cannot give you information about Lavinia. I was paid well to keep my mouth shut.”

Once Maggie mentioned money, negotiations were at hand. Sebastian hid his pleasure behind a mask of indifference. “And how much to open your mouth again?”

“I gave my word, Lord Thorne. My word is my bond.” She slanted a smile in his direction. “I did not, however, promise I wouldn’t write down her address in exchange for a hundred pounds.”

“My, that is a well-defined promise you didn’t make.” Sebastian returned her smile. “How fortuitous that I happen to have a hundred pounds I can spare. Shall we complete our business now?”

Her hard eyes bore into him. “We have no business, Lord Thorne. You were not here and never spoke to me. Do we understand each other?”

“Perfectly. Who are you again?”

She rolled her eyes and a reluctant smile spread across her ruby lips. “I hate that I’ve missed having you around, my lord.”

“I hear that often.”

An hour later, Sebastian stood outside a modest town house on the edge of Chelsea, trying to make sense of the darkened windows and silence. He’d been certain the address would lead him to a lively gathering of the demimonde where one engaged in all sorts of debauchery and merrymaking. Instead, he found what appeared to be arespectable household.

Bollocks. If Maggie had lied, she would have to answer to him, hulking beasts in livery be damned. He returned to his carriage. His footman opened the door for Sebastian to climb inside and awaited instructions. Fleetingly, Sebastian considered stopping at Helena’s on his way home despite his earlier concerns. She would be thrilled to learn he had gotten a lead on Lavinia. She might even be grateful.

A slow grin spread across his lips. Perhaps exceedingly grateful.

His eagerness faded as he considered the possible impact the evening could have on her, however. He didn’t know yet if the information Maggie had given him was real. How could he raise Helena’s hopes when there was a chance of disappointing her?

He couldn’t. He swiped a hand down his face, weariness seeping into his bones, and sank against the carriage cushion, then peered at the house once more. Before involving Helena, he should discover who resided at the town house on Walpole Street.

“Take me home,” he said with a sigh. A hollowness expanded in his chest as he realized it had been over twenty-four hours since he’d held Helena.

Very well. He could admit that was different too.

***

Helena listlessly twirled her parasol as she, Eve, and Lady Norwick meandered through Hyde Park with Fergus trailing behind them. He claimed he had no interest in ladies’ chitchat, but she had twice caught the Scot chuckling over one of her companions’ quips.

Eve and the Countess of Norwick were equally matched in wits, and Helena enjoyed their company a great deal. Usually. Today, however, all she could think on was Sebastian. She’d been trying all afternoon to inconspicuously introduce the topic of what business kept him away from her.

He had not attended charades at Lady Orham’s town house last night, and today Eve had arrived at Helena’s home with only Lady Norwick in tow. Since their encounter at the theatre, she’d seen neither hide nor hair of him. Was he done with her so quickly? She knew his attachments were short-lived, but surely not this soon.

She glanced sideways at Eve and swallowed hard. She couldn’t bring herself to ask after him for fear her companions would know how hopelessly smitten she was. It was a sickness, pining for him as she did. How had it come to this? She had been determined not to succumb to his charm like every other lady in Town, but there was no help for it. Sebastian Thorne was irresistible, and worse, he knew it.

A light honeysuckle-scented breeze grazed her hot cheeks, and she tried once again to attend to Eve and Lady Norwick’s conversation.

“Has Sir Jonathan professed his feelings for you yet?” the countess asked.

Eve’s dark lashes blinked in agitation. “Heavens, no! We’ve barely known each other a sennight.”

“There is no specific time allotment for love, dearest. One can fall in love quite quickly, isn’t that correct, Lady Prestwick?”




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