shook her head and glanced away. ‘Not really.’ Then bit her lip. ‘You aren’t… interested in him, are you?’
Venetia smiled to reassure her friend. ‘I am as interested in him as I am in Hawick or Devlin or any of the others. Which is not at all.’ But she was lying. She was very interested in Linwood, just not in the way that Alice thought. She did not allow herself to think of the unprecedented response she had felt on looking into his eyes, on being close to him, on spending just that short time within his company. ‘What have you heard of him?’
‘Nothing specific.’ Alice did not meet her gaze. ‘Only that he’s a dangerous man to get involved with. And, as they say, there’s no smoke without fire, Venetia.’
‘Indeed.’ Venetia had listened to Robert’s suspicions about Linwood and a fire that had razed an entire building to the ground and destroyed the possessions accumulated across a man’s lifetime.
The two women moved to talk of other things.
Venetia did not see Linwood the next night. She left Alice to Razeby and the green room and slipped out of the theatre by the stage door into Hart Street. Her carriage was waiting outside as usual, to take her home. As her footman opened the coach door she drew him a nod and, pulling the long black cloak tighter around her shoulders, climbed inside. The door closed behind her with a quiet click and the carriage was pulling away along the street before she saw the man lounging in the corner of the opposite seat. For a moment she thought it was Linwood and gave a small shriek before realising the man’s identity.
‘Robert!’ she chided, pressing her hand to her chest. ‘You frightened me!’
‘You need not be so jumpy, little sister. I am not Linwood.’
‘You should have warned me you were coming.’
‘I could hardly do that now, could I?’
She gave a sigh, knowing her half-brother was right.
‘How do matters progress with the viscount?’ he asked.
‘I have secured his interest.’
‘I did not doubt it. Your talent is unsurpassed. Who else could feign an interest in such a man?’
She looked away, unable to meet his eyes in case he saw the truth in them. She did not tell him that Linwood was a man who could have had his pick of many women. Not because of his handsome looks, but because of the danger and darkness and mystery that emanated from him. He was what other men were not. Acting an attraction to him was uncomfortably easy, even knowing what he had done.
‘This is one role I do not like playing, Robert.’
‘Understandably so. But it is the best way.’
‘As you said.’
‘I hate asking this of you, Venetia.’ Robert’s face looked grim. ‘Maybe I should call the villain out and be done with it.’
Venetia looked across the carriage at him. ‘He would kill you.’
‘Such confidence in me,’ he said drily.
‘We both know of what he is capable and I would not have you risk your life.’
‘I know and I am glad of your concern for me.’ He took her hand in his and gave it a little squeeze of reassurance before releasing it again. ‘We must proceed as planned. It is our best chance of bringing Linwood to justice.’
She nodded.
‘Have you learned anything of use yet?’
‘Nothing so far, except that he is definitely brooding upon something dark.’
‘I expect murder on his conscience might have such an effect.’ Robert’s voice was low and serious. ‘But a beautiful woman can always make a man lower his guard and loosen his tongue, even a man as careful as Linwood.’
She said nothing, just kept her mind focused on why they were doing this.
‘When are you seeing him again?’
‘He does not know it yet, but Monday night. At Razeby’s dinner party.’
‘Good.’ Robert rapped on the roof of the carriage with his cane and the carriage drew to a halt. He looked at her through the dim light. ‘You will be careful, won’t you, Venetia?’
‘Am I not always?’
Robert gave a low laugh before kissing her cheek and disappeared like a shadow into the darkness of the night. And when the carriage drove on, Venetia thought of Linwood. A man who had killed. A murderer. The only man that stirred a whisper of desire through her. She pulled the soft fur-lined cloak all the tighter around her, but it did nothing to warm the chill that crept in her bones.
Chapter Three
Linwood stood alone in the crowd of Razeby’s drawing room and wondered if it was Razeby or Venetia Fox who had lied. Razeby’s words from that afternoon played again in his head.
‘I am not gammoning you! I tell you, Miss Fox did send a note not two hours since. She will attend my little dinner on the proviso that she is seated next to you.’ There was an excitement in Razeby’s eyes as he had paced the drawing room of Linwood’s apartment. ‘So much for your denials that anything happened between the two of you on the green-room balcony, you sly dog!’
‘We exchanged polite conversation, nothing more.’
‘I do not know what you said to her, but evidently she liked it. She has never attended one of my dinners previously. Indeed, she has never attended any dinner held by a gentleman.’ He had given a wry smile. ‘God only knows why, but it seems that the divine Miss Fox is interested in you, Linwood.’
Linwood had shaken his head to deny it, but Razeby’s words had kindled something within him. Since then the pulse of desire that he felt for Venetia Fox had beat all the harder. What man would not respond to a woman like her?
‘Naturally I sent a note back by return, saying that the seating arrangements would be to her preference and that I looked forward to seeing her.’
The two men had looked at one another.
‘You cannot let me down, Linwood. You will have to come now.’ Razeby smiled before adding, ‘To have Venetia Fox grace my little soirée will be quite the coup. And you do owe me one.’
And so here Linwood was, waiting only for her.
He stood alone, the glass of champagne in his hand untouched, the bubbles rising in a riotous frenzy through the pale golden liquid. All around him the conversation buzzed loudly. Snatches of other people’s conversations reached his ears. Men’s talk of horses, gaming and politics. Women’s, of fashion and wealth and men. There was the chink of glass and silver as footmen glided silently through the small crowd, topping up glasses. And the high, tinkling, affected laughs of the women, mistresses and actresses and courtesans, not a respectable one amongst them. The latter were all beautiful creatures, all expensively and provocatively attired, their necklines so low as to reveal nipples that had been rouged to attract even more attention, the skirts revealing, even transparent in some cases. It was most certainly a demi-monde affair. And then all at once the talking seemed to fade away to leave a hush.
He saw the almost imperceptible effect that rippled through the room the instant she appeared. All eyes riveted to the door. In the men there was a sudden gleam of both interest and appreciation, a puffing out of chests, a preening, a sharpening of expression that was almost predatory. And beside them the change did not go unnoticed by the women who stood by their sides. While their men’s darkened with desire, the women’s eyes narrowed. Linwood did not need to look to know that it was Venetia Fox that stood there in the doorway, but he looked anyway… and was not sorry that he did. The murmur of conversation began again.
Venetia saw Linwood almost immediately. He was standing by the farthest window, alone, unsmiling, emanating