"Oh, look at the time," Hattie suddenly said. "You should have stopped me. I've spent the entire afternoon filling your ears with gossip."
"It's happy gossip. Reminds me of my days as a debutante." Gathering her reticule, she pushed to her feet. "But I should be going. Cook will want my help planning next week's menu."
She kissed Hattie on the cheek, pausing as she saw the shadow watching them.
Sir George Hamilton loomed in the doorway of the parlor like a behemoth, his heavy brow shadowing his eyes. She didn't know how long he'd been there, but she didn't like the way he looked at her.
He was supposed to be out this afternoon. She'd checked with Hattie before she came.
"Father," Adele greeted with a tilt of the head, one adversary to another.
Her father's lips thinned beneath his neatly trimmed moustache. "Fancy seeing you here, Adele." He stepped forward and pressed his dry lips to her forehead, though she knew it was merely for show. He'd given up on her years ago. "I wasn't aware Harriet was meeting you for tea this afternoon."
Interpretation: You're not supposed to meet with your sister. I thought we'd discussed this?
He turned hard eyes on Hattie, who wilted beneath his gaze.
"Blame me," Adele said swiftly, stepping between them so she'd face his ire, and not her sister. "I begged her to let me come."
"She told her mother she had a case of the megrims. Lady Hamilton would never have gone out if she'd known it was a ruse."
"It was my idea."
The muscle in his cheek ticked. "I don't doubt that. Since you're here, you may as well spare me a moment of your time. My study?"
Her smile faltered. "As you wish."
Hattie followed them to the door, and Adele squeezed her hand to assuage her sister's nerves. Everything will be okay. Sir George couldn't hurt her anymore, but Adele could still feel her sister's stare between her shoulder blades at every step along the staircase to the second level.
Sir George wasted no time.
The second the door to his study shut behind her, he turned on his heel abruptly. "Your mother tells me you disapprove of Lord Corvus's intentions toward your sister. You are not to meddle."
I daresay Lady Hamilton forgot to mention the part where I pay her two hundred pounds a month to keep his lordship's paws off my sister.
Dealing with Sir George was another matter.
"Corvus is only circling Hattie like a vulture because he knows how much it gets under my skin," Adele hissed. "You're the one who wants to throw her to the wolves. Do you possibly imagine he is interested in a match with her? He'll ruin her."
"This vendetta you have against him—"
"Vendetta?" Her voice rose. "How dare you?"
"It cost me a great deal to keep Corvus off my back after your little incident," he warned. "If you upset him again—"
"If I upset him?" She couldn't restrain the heat in her voice.
"You drew his blood."
"He deserved it." Adele turned in a whirl of skirts, pacing to the window. "And if you think I shall ever forget how you made me apologize to him, then you should think again."
Of all the indignities she'd suffered under this roof, apologizing to her erstwhile attacker was the worst.
"Lord Corvus is a powerful man—"
"So is my husband." She wasn't above throwing Malloryn's name around when it came to riling her father. "I don't think he'd approve of your machinations with Hattie if I told him the truth."
Sir George's face mottled. "Your husband wouldn't give a damn. Do you think I am unaware of his lack of concern when it comes to his wife? Rumors abound, my dear, of how your husband avoids any balls you attend."
Adele steeled herself. "Malloryn is too busy with matters of the realm to attend most of the Echelon's balls. But of course rumors abound. Of course it's my fault. You probably started them yourself."
"The last thing I want to do is bring more attention to you and this household," Sir George yelled. "You dishonored this house once, and I will not have you bringing the murk of your past back into the light."
"How was marrying the duke a dishonor? No member of this household has ever striven so high!"
"High?" His voice raised several octaves. "Malloryn's a traitor to his class. He ought to hang."
"I'd be careful how loudly you say those words, Father," she replied coldly. "Because they smack of treason."
A sharp rap came at the door, cutting the tension between them.
Visibly seething, Sir George turned to the footman at the door. "What is it?"
"There's a messenger here, sir. You wanted to be alerted immediately the second he arrived."
Sir George cut her a sharp look. "We are not done yet. Stay here and don't touch anything. I need to see to this."
"I think I've heard enough, thank you very much." She gathered her skirts.
"Well, I haven't finished talking. Lord Corvus and I have come to an agreement, and you will abide by it."
Adele froze. "What kind of agreement?"
Sir George bared his teeth in a smile as he strode toward the door. "As I said, stay here. And you will find out."
Chapter 14
An agreement with Lord Corvus....
If Sir George had dared make a rash decision over Hattie's fate, Adele was going to kill him. She hastily rifled through the papers on his desk, trying to find some sort of letter or document pertaining to Corvus.
Damn it. Nothing.
Adele turned, her fingertips pressed to her temples, when she saw the fireplace.
And her breath caught as she saw something she'd never truly noticed before.
There, right in the heart of her father's study, was the rising sun emblem of the SOG—according to Malloryn.
Every inch of her stiffened.
"Malloryn's a traitor to his class."
Why had she not seen it?
Oh, she'd known Sir George despised her husband, but he was careful about the sorts of opinions he allowed to grace public air. She hadn't even bothered to put his name on the list she'd given her husband.
But what if he was an SOG sympathizer?