Selburn glanced at Carlston, who had just taken the hand of a lady in blue and was steering her towards them. ‘I do not think you should stay in that house any longer. I feel I must tell you that there are serious concerns about Lord Carlston and his companions.’
Another young man stepped up to them and bowed to Helen. The Duke turned her away from the offered hand, ignoring the young man’s splutter of indignation.
‘What kind of concerns?’ Helen said, forcing her voice into polite interest.
‘A man of my rank has many friends in the government, Lady Helen, and I have made some inquiries about your new companions. Lady Margaret and Mr Hammond have a dubious French past to say the least — possibly criminal — and Carlston himself is, I believe, under suspicion for espionage.’
Helen lost the beat and stopped in the middle of the floor. His information was too close for comfort. ‘That is a slanderous claim, Duke. I will not listen to gossip about my friends.’
He took her hand again, guiding her into the left turn. ‘Please, you must listen,’ he said, his voice urgent. ‘I believe you are being deceived by these people.’
Helen felt the shock of the word register on her face. She shook her head, more to dislodge her overreaction than to deny his accusation.
‘Carlston is preying upon your naivety,’ he said. ‘I do not know why — perhaps your fortune, perhaps some other vile reason — but I will discover the reason and I will unmask him. I know this man, Helen. You must be on your guard.’
The music lengthened into the final chords. Helen curtseyed to the Duke’s bow, then turned to clap the musicians, hiding her agitation. From the corner of her eye, she saw Carlston approach.
‘Lady Helen,’ he said, bowing. ‘I believe we have the next dance as well.’
‘Lady Helen will stay with me,’ Selburn said.
Carlston gave him a lazy smile. ‘Lady Helen has her own voice, Selburn.’
The Duke crossed his arms. ‘She does not know what you are, Carlston, but I do.’
‘And pray, what am I?’
‘You are a debaucher. Your tastes are for the innocent with only corruption in your mind.’
Helen drew in her breath. Dear Mother of Heaven, those were words designed to force his lordship into a challenge. Nearby, another couple had stopped to listen and the Duke’s description brought a gasp from the lady.
Carlston gave a soft, dangerous laugh. ‘By your account, I am indeed a villain. Should I point out that our tastes coincided four years ago? I believe your intentions were just as impure as my own.’
Selburn stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides. ‘You destroyed Elise. I swear you will not have a chance to destroy another innocent girl.’
‘Lord Carlston, I really do wish to sit down,’ Helen interrupted, grabbing his arm.
She could feel the coiled readiness in his muscles. Lud, she seemed doomed to step in between these two men to stop them killing each other. Or more to the point, to stop Carlston from killing the Duke.
She turned to Selburn. ‘Your Grace, thank you for the dance.’
Ingrained good manners made him acknowledge her curtsey. ‘It was my pleasure, Lady Helen.’ His eyes, however, were fixed upon Carlston.
The Earl inclined his head. ‘As always, a delight, Duke.’
Helen pulled him from the floor as the music for a quadrille started up. The obvious stand-off had garnered more onlookers and she could feel their curiosity as she and Lord Carlston made their way towards the salon doors. No doubt Lady Dunwick would be pleased; the confrontation would be the talk of the rout and Donaldson’s tomorrow.
‘He is becoming annoyingly protective of you and inquisitive about our activities,’ Carlston said. ‘Something will have to be done.’
Helen stopped, her hand tightening on his forearm. Of course; he had been listening to her conversation throughout the dance.
‘I will make it clear that I do not need or want his protection,’ she said.
Carlston regarded her thoughtfully. ‘If he does not draw back soon, I will take action. Do you understand?’
Helen looked back at the Duke. He was leading Delia into the quadrille set with no idea of the danger he had just brought upon himself. Well, she would not allow any harm to come to him; not on her behalf.
‘Just give me some time to persuade him of my disinterest,’ she said.
‘Be swift about it,’ Carlston advised. ‘Selburn has an unfortunate tendency to think he is one of Scott’s heroes.’
They had reached the salon doors. The narrow landing had cleared somewhat, most guests having found their way to the card room, the cold supper or the salon. His lordship indicated a room at the end of the corridor, its open door showing two fully lit candelabra set upon a Chinoiserie sideboard.
‘The Comte has suggested we meet in the morning room.’ His voice dropped into the secret pitch for Reclaimer ears. ‘I want you to take careful note of his expressions. Look for those moments when he is lying. He is a consummate actor, like all of his kind, but do the best you can.’
‘Of course,’ Helen answered in the same low tone. ‘But you have known him for many years. I doubt I will be able to recognise his lies more successfully than you.’
Something crossed his face, a quicksilver flash of fear, so fast she almost doubted she had seen it. She stopped walking, forcing him to halt too. He looked at her inquiringly, those heart-stopping features carefully composed into polite interest. He knew she had seen his slip.
‘What is wrong?’ she demanded. ‘There is something you have not told me about the Comte.’
‘I have no idea what you mean.’
His eyes had flattened into his shark stare, but she was not going to be deflected. Not this time. Too much was at stake.
‘I saw fear in your face, Lord Carlston. Do not deny it — you know my skill in that area. For once, you must tell me the whole story.’
He drew a breath through his teeth, reluctance in every line of his body.
‘I deserve to go into that room fully prepared,’ Helen insisted.
‘Yes, you do,’ he finally conceded. ‘It is possible …’ He shook his head, correcting himself. ‘No, it is certain that this malady, whatever it may be, is reducing the effectiveness of my abilities.’ For an instant, the careful distance in his eyes was gone and she saw that awful hollow fear again. ‘Perhaps even my judgment. I am not convinced that I will be able to read him thoroughly.’ He pressed his fingers against his forehead. ‘There is a pain here that I cannot shift. I feel as if I am being boxed in behind my own eyes, getting smaller and smaller. It is as if I am … disappearing.’
She reached for his hand, a reflex of compassion. They both looked down at their gloved fingers suddenly entwined. The pulse of energy thundered in Helen’s ears.
‘I will not let you disappear,’ she said, tightening her hold. ‘You kept me sane when my strength came upon me. I will do the same for you.’
He smiled. ‘You will be my anchor.’ He withdrew his hand, as if breaking the illicit bond was as painful as the darkness he carried. ‘It is worse than Quinn and the others think, and it is coming upon me fast.’
Helen nodded, the ominous admission momentarily robbing her of any sound. But in her mind, Pike’s voice was loud and clear: A rabid dog must be put down for the safety of society.