As Luck Would Have It (Providence #1)

“Quite refreshing. Suppose it’s an effect of all those years in exotic countries, but she’s quite managed to escape becoming a prim and proper British miss. None of this silly marriage business for her, you know. Told me so herself. She wants only to enjoy herself while in London.”


Good Lord, the man was encouraging him to have a dalliance with his cousin. Alex wasn’t deluded enough to deny he’d like nothing better, but anyone could see Sophie Everton was an innocent. Certainly, she was considerably more plainspoken than most gently bred women of his acquaintance and perhaps a little more liberal in her politics, but clearly she wasn’t in the habit of “enjoying herself.” Any reasonably intelligent man who spent more than a few minutes in her company would know she was untouched, and Alex made a point to never dally with virgins. There were rules about that sort of thing.

Was Loudor going about telling every male in the room that Sophie was interested in a liaison? Alex felt an uncomfortable combination of jealousy, anger, and revulsion. There was nothing he would have liked better, in that moment, than to drag Loudor to an empty room and pummel him until he spilled the name of every rake, bounder, and libertine he had spoken with. Then pummel him again just on principle. Sadly, there were rules about that sort of thing too.

Alex took a moment to leash his anger before turning his best rakish grin on Loudor. “Freshness is all well and good, but what I require in a woman is fidelity. I don’t share.”

“Ah, I am in full agreement. Believe we understand each other, Rockeforte.”

Alex pictured his hands around Loudor’s neck. He smiled at the image, and nodded.

Loudor finished off his drink and looked back at Sophie. “I’m having a little dinner party tomorrow night. Sophie has a bizarre notion that her companion should dine with the family. Need another man to even out the numbers.” Without taking his eyes from Sophie, Loudor produced the most sickening smirk Alex was sure he had ever seen. “Up to the task?”

Another throttling. Another smile. “I look forward to it.”

The second-to-last dance was a waltz. Fortunately, Sophie had yet to receive permission to waltz from the matrons of Almacks and was thus afforded the perfect excuse to decline the young gentlemen vying for her regard.

There seemed to be a great many of them, she realized with a mixture of pride and unease. They had appeared almost the moment Alex left her side. Apparently, the Duke of Rockeforte’s attention had immediately marked her as a person of consequence.

It had all been very exciting, of course, but it was time to get to work. She had the space of two dances to get into and out of Lord Calmaton’s study.

Sophie excused herself to visit the ladies’ retiring room. She’d gone twice earlier in the evening, peeking into rooms and poking behind paintings in the hope she might find a hidden safe, and cautiously testing the doors along the hallway. The fourth room on the right had been locked, and Sophie hoped that meant she’d found the study.

Pausing in a darkened recess, she pulled up her skirts and retrieved a long pick from the strap around her ankle. She would have to be quick. The room was located far enough down the hall for there to be little traffic, but she had no intention of drawing attention to herself by loitering.

It took her nearly a minute to open the door. She was usually much faster, but her hands were shaking badly, and the blood pounding in her ears made it difficult to hear the clicks and taps of the inner workings of the lock.

Finally she succeeded and was thrilled to find that she had chosen the correct room. Her eyes scanned the interior. It was too dark. She crossed over to the windows and pulled back the drapes, relieved to find the moon shining brightly on her face. She quickly opened the curtains on the remaining windows. It was still too dark for her taste, but there was enough light to keep her fear in check and for her to see what she was about.

She started with the desk. The top was littered with papers; she couldn’t possibly read them all. She fumbled through the stacks, hoping something would catch her eye. She had an absurd vision of finding some triple-sealed envelope with the word SECRET written across the front, possibly in blood.

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