The door closed and Jane spun around with a gasp. She had thought Henry was alone, but the tall figure emerging from the shadows was as familiar as it was unexpected.
‘Can you get him upstairs on your own?’ the Duke of Delahaye was asking Henry. He cast Jane one single dark glance. ‘I need to have a word with Miss Verey.’
‘I can call Simon’s valet to help-’ Jane said. She had already stretched out a hand towards the servants’ door when Alex’s fingers closed around her wrist.
‘No,’ he said, and there was such a note of authority in his voice that Jane fell silent. For the first time, her gaze moved from Henry to Alex, noting their extraordinary appearance. Gone were the gentlemen of ton Society, and in their place were two rather disreputable characters in shabby black and white. Henry, with his tumbled fair hair and billowing white shirt, looked rather like a poet fallen on hard times, whilst Alex’s sinister black cloak made him look like the archetypal highwayman. Jane had to press a hand to her mouth to stop herself laughing. Above it her eyes were bright.
‘Oh, dear! You look-’
‘Thank you,’ Alex said drily. ‘Your face says it all, Miss Verey! Henry, please-before we wake the whole house-’
But it was already too late. The door from below stairs opened and Cassie stepped into the hall, holding her candle high. She gave a muted squeak.
‘Lord save us! Miss Jane! And the young master! Foxed again! George,’ she shouted back down the stairs, ‘come and help the young master to bed! He’s as tight as an owl!’
Jane realised that Alex was still holding her wrist. In the ensuing confusion he pulled her round to face him. Suddenly she saw that for all their comical appearance their business was deadly serious. Alex was looking both grim and determined.
‘Miss Verey-may we speak in private?’
Jane’s eyes widened. ‘Now? We cannot!’
A hint of a smile lightened the grimness of Alex’s expression. ‘I fear we must! I assure you, you are quite safe with me! I simply need to ask you a few questions!’
Jane’s startled gaze searched his face. ‘Surely it can wait until the morning-’
‘I am afraid not,’ Alex said, very definitely.
‘Best do as he asks, Janey,’ Harry Marchnight said soberly. He was helping the servants to manoeuvre Simon up the staircase and suddenly Jane and Alex were alone in the shadowed hall. Alex dropped her wrist and stood back to allow her to precede him into the drawing room, picking up the candelabra as he followed her in. The door shut with an unnerving click.
‘Your Grace, this is very improper…’ Jane said faintly, curling up in an armchair and drawing her robe more closely about her.
‘I know.’ Alex smiled with sudden and devastating charm. ‘Needs must, Miss Verey! I shall not keep you long and this is very important.’ He took the chair opposite and sat forward, fixing her with a stern look that almost made her shiver. ‘Is Simon in some kind of trouble?’
Jane met his eyes very directly. ‘I am not aware of it, your Grace. What kind of trouble?’
Alex shifted a little. ‘We found Simon far from his usual haunts, in circumstances that suggested foul play. He was slumped in the gutter, in severe danger of having his pockets picked-or worse! He is not in the habit of getting blind drunk and hanging around street corners in Spitalfields, so-’ He broke off, his eyes narrowing on Jane’s face. ‘Do you know anything about this, Miss Verey?’
Jane knew that her expression had given her away. She had assumed that Simon had over-indulged at his club, but as soon as Alex mentioned Spitalfields, she realised that Simon must have returned to look for Thérèse, just as he had sworn he would. As she hesitated, Alex said drily:
‘I see that you do know, Miss Verey! You have the most expressive face! So what is this all about?’
Jane resented his high-handed tone. ‘What business is it of yours, your Grace? Forgive me, but you and Harry Marchnight are the ones who have been creeping around London like Mohawks!’
Alex gave her a reluctant smile. ‘Touché, Miss Verey! I can see that our behaviour must look suspicious! However, have you considered that your own actions are also most questionable?’
‘Mine!’ Jane looked incredulous. ‘I have no notion what you mean-’
‘No?’ Alex was not smiling any longer. His face looked as cold and carved as stone. ‘Consider the circumstances. I find you skulking in the dark walks alone last night at Vauxhall. You tell me a very thin tale to explain the situation. When you are reunited with your brother, you give him a sign to say nothing. I had already seen him in very dubious company last night and tonight he is found dead drunk in a low neighbourhood. And I believe that you know what is going on.’ He brought his clenched fist down with heavy emphasis. ‘This seems most suspicious to me, Miss Verey!’
Jane’s head was spinning. ‘I assure you, there was nothing remotely suspect about my behaviour last night! I only gestured to Simon to keep quiet because-’ She broke off, suddenly aware that any explanation would incriminate Sophia and Philip in some way. Alex was waiting patiently, his dark gaze riveted on her face.
‘You appear to be in some difficulty, Miss Verey,’ he said after a moment. ‘The natural consequences of chicanery, I fear! And can you be surprised at my distrust? You have, after all, proved yourself adept at deception!’
Jane gasped. ‘How dare you, sir! I have done no such thing!’
‘No?’ Alex said again. ‘What about the exchange of partners at Lady Winterstoke’s dinner, the change of dominoes at the masquerade…I do not believe that you are to be trusted, Miss Verey!’
Jane found that she was on her feet with no real idea of how she got there. She reached for the door handle, but Alex was before her, resting one hand against the panels and blocking her path.
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ he said pleasantly. ‘Not until you have told me what I need to know!’
‘This is outrageous!’ Jane realised that her voice was shaking. ‘You cannot behave in this high-handed manner, sir! How dare you accuse me of deception when all I have done is oppose your plan to marry me off to your brother!’
‘Perhaps we may discuss that on another occasion, Miss Verey,’ Alex said smoothly. ‘Just now it is very important that I know what it going on. The company your brother is keeping is dangerous-’
‘I know that!’ Jane glared at him. ‘I told you that that man was trying to kill you!’ She stopped suddenly, seeing the flash in his eyes and realising that she had been provoked into saying rather more than she had intended. She bit her lip.
‘And just how much do you know about that, Miss Verey?’ Alex said, very softly.
Suddenly Jane was frightened. There had always been something exciting about crossing swords with Alexander Delahaye, but now she realised that she was completely out of her depth. This was real, and dangerous and threatening. She thought of the way in which he had casually referred to her deceit, the fact that he did not trust her, and the tears stung her eyes.
Alex stood back with an ironic bow, gesturing to her to sit down again. Jane sat without a word, curling up as tight as she could for both warmth and comfort.
‘Shall we start again, Miss Verey?’ Alex said.
There was a little silence. The candle flame flickered. Jane capitulated.
‘Very well! There is no mystery! It is misfortunes in love rather than anything else that trouble Simon.’
‘Indeed. What matter of the heart could take him to Spitalfields?’
Jane’s eyes flashed at his disbelieving tone. ‘Something far less dubious than your own activities, I am sure, your Grace! Simon is looking for a young lady by the name of Thérèse, who apparently lives there. He wishes to marry her.’
There was a sharp silence. ‘Does he, by God!’ For the first time, Alex seemed startled. ‘Mademoiselle Thérèse de Beaurain?’