“I should ask the same of you, sir,” Drake said, forcing his way into the room. “It would seem you have commandeered a house as well as a title.”
“He forced his way in!” the wench behind him cried.
“That’s quite all right, Miss Brody. I apologize for his abominable behavior,” Ardencaple said calmly. “Ye best go on about yer work now.”
“Are ye certain, milord?”
“Quite,” he said, and walked to the door, held it open so that she might exit. She reluctantly quit the room, eyeing Lockhart with daggers in her eyes.
Ardencaple quietly shut the door and turned to regard Drake. “How dare ye come into me house like this,” he said low.
“How dare you come to London and masquerade as an earl! You don’t have permission to use this house!”
“I beg yer pardon! I’ve proper letters of introduction—”
“Spare me your bloody letters of introduction!” Drake shouted. “Lady Worthall has a letter from Lady Dalkeith in which she writes she has no knowledge of you or anyone like you, and that she will return by the end of the week to set the matter to rights! What will you say to that, I wonder?”
“Lady Worthall is sadly mistaken,” he said, very calmly. “And so are ye, Lockhart. Ye have no reason—”
“The hell I don’t, sir! I think it quite a remarkable coincidence that a precious family heirloom would disappear from my family’s home the last time a Scot was in London!”
Ardencaple lifted a brow and chuckled with amusement. “Now what could that possibly have to do with me? Would ye accuse me of stealing, sir?” he laughed again. “How ye must despise me.”
“I more than despise you. I desire to see you behind the bars at Newgate before the day is done.”
“Donna be ridiculous,” Ardencaple scoffed.
Drake was about to tell him that he was quite serious, but the door flew open and another man burst into the room, looking first to Ardencaple, then to Drake. “Is everything all right, milord?” he asked, eyeing Lockhart. “Cook was quite distressed.”
“And well she had reason to be. Mr. Lockhart has shown her an uncommonly vulgar side of himself. But I believe he was just leaving …are ye no’, Mr. Lockhart?”
“Not without Miss Addison,” he said through clenched teeth.
For a split moment Ardencaple seemed to freeze. He exchanged a look with the other Scot, then shifted his gaze to Drake. “I donna care for the implication of that, sir,” he said through clenched teeth.
“I’m not implying anything, you goddamn rogue! Miss Addison has been plainly seen entering this house on more than one occasion and including this morning, without proper escort! Do you think to make whores of our women while you plot your thievery?”
“Mind yerself, sir!” the other Scot exclaimed hotly. “Ye willna impugn the reputation of Lord Ardencaple!”
“I will do as I bloody well please. If he takes issue with it, then he may call me out,” he spat.
Ardencaple laughed derisively at that. “Ye’d welcome it, would ye no’? But there is no need for yer bravado, Lockhart. Miss Addison is no’ here. She’s never been here. Lady Worthall, for what it’s worth, is a doddering old bird with naugh’ more to do with her days than create scandals. Why, do ye know that she claimed The Prince Regent was paying uncommon court to a lass in the house on the corner, who hasna even come out? If there is no scandal to speak of, our Lady Worthall will create it. Only a bloody fool would believe her mutterings.”
That gave Drake pause—it was indeed possible that Lady Worthall was a mad old bird. He scarcely knew her, and what Ardencaple said made some sense, for he could not believe that Anna would come here, unescorted, and risk her reputation. But then again, there was nothing he wouldn’t put past this scoundrel.
What he needed was a constable who could cart the bastard off as he so richly deserved.
He pointed a finger at Ardencaple. “You had best prepare yourself, sir, for I will bring the full force of the magistrate down on your head!”
Ardencaple laughed. “Be our guest, Lockhart. Bring whomever ye must. But be forewarned that everyone in London will know what a bloody goddamn fool ye are ere it’s all over.”
Drake turned sharply and shoved the other Scot aside as he strode out of the room and then out of that house.
He could have a constable here by late afternoon.
His head lowered, Grif looked at Hugh as he slammed the door behind the departing back of Lockhart.
“I should have put him on his bloody arse,” Hugh said. “What are we to do? He’ll return shortly, ye know he will.”
“Aye. We leave,” Grif said. “Just as we planned. I have the beastie.”
“She brought it round, then?” Hugh asked, his eyes lighting up. “Bloody hell, then, we’ll go! I’ve brought the coach out; we can be away from London by nightfall.”
A noise, much like a disembodied shout in the far distance, came from behind the bookcase. Hugh looked at the bookcase, then at Grif. “Right. But we’ve a wee problem yet,” Grif said, cringing a little.