Amanda Quick: Mistress

"Is there such a thing as an average blackmailer?" "I am serious, sir. Black wax and a seal engraved with a phoenix would constitute strong evidence against the blackmailer."

"So you went looking for both?" It was simply too outrageous to he believed. The lady was surely lying, which he had suspected from the start. That was the only explanation, Marcus concluded.

And he had thought he was an inventor of some talent, he thought wryly. Iphiginia Bright could give him lessons.

"Unfortunately, I have not yet had a chance to search the studies or libraries of the others."

"Which others?" "The men with whom you frequently play cards, of course."

"You intend to search the libraries or studies of every man with whom I have played cards?" Marcus was curious to see how elaborate her tangle of lies would prove to be.

"No, only those who were also in the habit of playing cards with Lord Guthrie when he was alive," Iphiginia said crisply. She held up a hand and ticked off familiar names. "Lartmore, Darrow, Pettigrew, and Judson. They are the four men who link your household and that of my aunt's."

"Because they were known to play cards at one time or another with both me and Guthrie?"

Iphiginia sighed. "It was the only link I could discover between your circle and that of my aunt's. I concluded that someone who knew Lord Guthrie had somehow learned Aunt Zoe's secret. Perhaps from a servant. That same person also knew a great deal about you."

"But not a secret worthy of blackmail," Marcus pointed out. "I told you, I am not being blackmailed."

"Perhaps not, my lord, but the blackmailer was sufficiently well acquainted with you to know that you intended to he out of Town for a considerable length of time."

"That was not a secret, either." "No?" Iphiginia gave him a challenging look. "Virtually everything you do is a secret to most people, sir. Think back. How many people actually knew your plans to go to your estate for a month?"

"Any number of people," Marcus replied easily. "My man of affairs, for example. My servants."

"And the men with whom you played whist shortly before you left London?" Iphiginia asked blandly.

"Hell and damnation." Marcus experienced a grudging sense of admiration. The lady was clever, indeed. "You really did make a thorough study of me, did you not?"

"Yes, sir, I did. I am very good at research. Among the things I discovered almost immediately was that-you had played cards with Lartmore, Darrow, Pettigrew, and Judson at one of your clubs the day before you left London."

"And Lady Guthrie confirmed that they had also played a few hands with her late husband."

"Not only that," Iphiginia said with great satisfaction, "but they had played cards quite regularly with him for nearly twenty years before he died, sir. That number is important because my aunt's great secret dates back eighteen years.»

Marcus smiled slowly. "Brilliant, Mrs. Bright. Absolutely brilliant. You have concocted a truly amazing tale to explain your astonishing behavior. I am consumed with admiration for your inventiveness and originality."

Her face fell. "You believe that I have invented the entire thing?"

"Yes, madam, I do." Marcus held up a hand. "But don't let that stop you. I assure you, I am enjoying the play to the utmost. You are a captivating actress of exceptional talent. I feel privileged to have a minor role in the performance."

Confusion and a deep wariness flickered in her eyes. "You do not believe me, but you are not angry?"

"To he perfectly truthful, I'm not, yet certain just how I feel about the entire affair. I am still pondering the matter."

"I see," she muttered. "Do you generally take a long time to consider matters before you decide how you feel about them?"

He smiled at the note of asperity in her voice. "You sound like a governess demanding a response from a slow pupil. The answer is that I have a rule against altering a decision once I have made it. But the corollary to that rule is that I gather 0 the facts first before making my decision."

She brightened. "I am well aware of your famous rules, sir. May I take it that you are still gathering the facts in this instance?" "Why not?" "That is a great relief, sir." She gave him her shatteringly brilliant smile. "I have faith in your intellectual nature. I know that once you realize that I am telling the truth, you will he only too happy to assist me in my efforts to discover the blackmailers

Marcus felt the carriage rumble to a halt. "Rest assured, Mrs. Bright, I shall take pleasure in learning everything there is to know about this entire situation."

"Of course." She seemed blithely unconcerned now. "That is your nature."

"Do you know," Marcus observed as his footman opened the carriage door, "I do, not believe that anyone has ever before set out to study my nature. Did you find the task interesting?"

"Oh, yes, my lord." Her eyes glowed. as she allowed herself to he assisted down onto the pavement. "It was every bit as fascinating as the ruins of Pompeii."

"Nice to know I can hold my own with a classical ruin." Marcus got out of the carriage and took her arm. He glanced up at Dinks. "I shall be a while."

Dinks, who had been with him for years, nodded with an air of cheerful complacency. "Aye, m'lord. We'll he waitin' for ye."

Iphiginia glanced sharply at Marcus as he walked her up the steps of Number Five, Morning Rose Square. "What did you mean by that? You won't be but a moment.»

"Come, now, my dear. Surely you intend to invite me inside for a brandy?" Marcus glanced with approval at the new gas lamps that had been installed in front of each town house on the street.

"Inside?" Iphiginia's voice rose in astonishment. "Do not be ridiculous, sir. I have no intention of allowing you into the house at this hour."

"We have much to discuss, Mrs. Bright, and I can think of no more convenient time or place for our conversation." Marcus raised his hand to give the brass knocker a sharp rap.

"No, wait, do not knock," Iphiginia said hurriedly. "I have instructed my housekeeper not to wait up for me. I have my key in my reticule."

Marcus held out his hand for the key. She hesitated and then handed it to him. He took it without a word and opened the door.

Iphiginia stepped quickly ahead of him into the dark hall. She grabbed a candle that had been left on a nearby table, lit it quickly, and swung around to confront him. "Sir, I really do not think that you should come inside."

He deliberately put one booted foot over the threshold and smiled. "If you wish your illusion to continue to withstand Society's scrutiny," he said very softly, "then I fear you must allow me to stay here for a time tonight. It is expected, you see."

"Expected?" She stared at him with dawning hope. "Do you mean that you're willing to allow me to continue posing as your mistress?"

"Why not?" Marcus moved through the door and closed it with a solid thud. "You can hardly carry out your inquiries if your identity is revealed at this point. If you are unmasked, you will be cast out of Society and there will be no way to reenter it."

"Very true. Sir, I cannot tell you how grateful I am. I realize that you do not yet believe my explanations. I want you to know that I find your open-minded consideration of the situation extremely admirable. It confirms everything I have learned about you."

"It's quite all right, Mrs. Bright. I am willing to go along with the masquerade for a while, at least until I have satisfied all of my questions. Is this your library?" Marcus walked through the doorway on the left side of the hall.

"Yes, it is." Iphiginia picked up her skirts and hastened after him. "My lord, this is really most generous of you.

"I know." Marcus could see nothing but dark, looming shapes. He aimed for what he assumed was the fireplace.