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Emily felt that such a discussion should not be carried on in the hallway. So she proceeded a few more feet into the room. “I am sorry,” she said, with a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Is that not the appropriate word for it? I did not mean to imply the relationship was not all that it should be.”

Marcus looked at Alexander in irritation. “You and your intrigues,” he muttered, only loud enough for Alexander to hear. Then he tried to think what Alexander would say if in this situation. “My dear girl, you must realize that my involvement with Lady Cynthia was not of a serious nature,” he told Emily. “It was just a lighthearted flirtation. I realize that you are not familiar with the ways of London society, but that sort of thing happens all the time.”

“That is just what Mama told her,” she assured Marcus, still the picture of innocence, but the barely suppressed smile giving her away.

“Your mother told Lady Cynthia what?” Alexander exclaimed, his look of amusement fading.

“Let me see . . .” Emily paused as if struggling to remember. “I believe she said that ‘idle gentleman often amuse themselves by flirting with pretty girls.’ That was, of course, in response to Lady Cynthia’s disclosure that she and Lord Wesleigh were engaged.”

“What!” Both men exclaimed in unison. Emily was enjoying herself immensely.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, she did not come out and say you were engaged,” she assured Marcus. “She just said that the announcement of your betrothal was expected at any moment. Dear me, I suppose I should not have repeated that. She did ask us to keep her confidence. However, I did not suppose there would be any harm in telling you. After all, I assume you would already be aware of the engagement if it were due to be announced at any moment.”

Marcus looked rather helplessly at his friend. Alexander nobly rose to the occasion, though he was reeling at the disclosure. How dared Lady Cynthia tell people they were engaged! He should have known better than to say two words to her, let alone flirt with her. “Miss Smithfield, I am sure you realize that a man in a position like Wesleigh here is liable to receive unwanted attention from females.”

Emily turned her innocent gaze in Alexander’s direction. “Then he did not flirt with her?”

Little minx, Alexander thought. Laughing at us all behind that wide-eyed look. “Well, he may have flirted with her, but I can assure you, he had no intention of marrying her.”

“Quite right,” Marcus agreed, seeing a vision of himself forced to marry Lady Cynthia while masquerading as Lord Wesleigh flash before his eyes. “The girl has a vivid imagination.”

“Well, I can only say that I am sure Mama will be relieved to hear that.” She turned to leave the room, pausing before closing the door to remark, “Because she told Lady Abernathy and Lady Cynthia that you purposed to make an alliance with our family.” She shut the door quickly, but not before the gentlemen heard her giggle at the sight of Marcus’s dismayed expression.

“What a saucy girl it is,” Marcus said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Are you certain you want her? She will be a rare handful.”

“Oh, I am certain. She is exactly what I need. I cannot envision a dull moment with Emily around.” Alexander began to smile. “I must admit I would have liked to have been there when Lady Smithfield told the so-proper Lady Cynthia that she had been no more than a trifling flirtation.”

“I cannot imagine how you struck up a flirtation with the girl in the first place,” Marcus said in disgust. “I would think you would have had better luck coaxing a kiss from a stone.”

“But that was exactly it. It was the challenge of the thing. She was an ice princess, and I had visions of heating her up a bit. I realized my folly pretty soon, let me tell you, and I spent most of our so-called flirtation running away from her as fast as I could. I guess I should thank my father, or I could have ended up married to the girl.

“Enough talk of Lady Cynthia. How is the pursuit of our spy coming?” Alexander asked Marcus.

“I scouted around last night looking for his hideout, and I cannot find a likely spot.”

“Perhaps he lives underground, like a mole,” Alexander suggested, joking.

“That is not as absurd a statement as you might think,” Marcus told him. “You have heard of the Hawkhurst Gang, I presume?”

“Yes, they were quite notorious. I forgot that they were from this part of the country. But they are all long dead. What have they to do with our highwayman?”

“It is said they had underground tunnels from Hawkhurst to Stonehurst and beyond. Perhaps our highwayman is using the tunnels to escape detection.”

“That is an interesting premise. Have you located any of these tunnels?”

“I have heard that one of the tunnels originates from the Tudor Arms. I am to pay a visit to the place this evening and see what I can find.”

“Would you appreciate some company?” Alexander asked.

“I am not sure you have the talent for acting that I have.” Sir Marcus grinned, slipping back into his foppish role. “My grandmother was an actress, don’t you know.”

“I seem to remember you saying as much,” Alexander replied. “Still, you are liable to ruin your jacket in such a seedy place. Or someone could take exception to your golden locks.”

“You may come if you wish. However, I could definitely use some help on Saturday night. There is a courier traveling with a missive from Whitehall. It would be a logical time for our man to strike.”

“I would be happy to help you apprehend the traitor. In fact, I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

Chapter Nine

Emily knocked gently on Lord Wesleigh’s door, not wanting to disturb him if he was sleeping. Apparently he was not. There was a shuffling sound and a thump.

“Lord Wesleigh? Are you all right?” Emily asked from the other side of the door.

“Fine, fine. Just dropped my book. Give me a moment.” Marcus scrambled to get back into the bed and under the covers.

Emily patiently waited a few minutes before heeding Marcus’s call to come in.

“I am sorry to disturb you, my lord. I just wanted to check in on you. Do you need anything?”

“No, no, I am fine,” Marcus assured her.

“You look rather flushed,” Emily said, peering at Wesleigh speculatively. She wondered how sick Lord Wesleigh really was. Perhaps this was all an elaborate ploy to avoid social doings with her family. She grew angry at the notion this fop thought he was better than she or Lydia, conveniently forgetting that she and her sister had rejected him first. Irritated by her suspicions, she regretted the sympathetic impulse that had prompted her to check on him.

“Just the fever, I expect,” he replied, coughing unconvincingly into his handkerchief.

Emily nodded and turned to leave.

“You are not going?” Marcus asked plaintively.

“Why, yes. I just stopped in for a moment.”

“But, I am bored to flinders. Stay for a while. Please.”

Emily smiled, her temper restored. Oh, well. She supposed it would not hurt to entertain him for a while. It was the polite thing to do. He was a guest in their home, after all. “All right, I will stay. What would you like to do?”

“I don’t know. A game of chess, perhaps?”

Emily nodded agreeably, although she was rather bored with chess. The duke of Alford was a devotee of the game, and she had spent the last two evenings playing him after dinner. She retrieved the chess set anyway and set it up on the table beside the bed. They played a rather desultory game, which Emily won easily. As she was putting the game away, she asked Marcus about his friend.

“Mr. Williams tells me you two have known each other a long time.”

“What? Oh, yes. We are rather close. We see a lot of each other in London.”