Taking the Spinster - Samantha Holt Page 0,2
have a few questions—”
“I have nothing to say about Miss Jenkins.” He frowned and rubbed his forehead. “I mean, Mrs. King.”
Freya hesitated. “Mrs. King?” She let her lips round. He meant the woman with whom he was to be married. She recalled writing about the broken engagement a few years ago. “Oh no, I do not care about your failed engagement.”
Lord Huntingdon winced slightly, the quickest flash of pain.
She cursed inwardly. Most marriages between the upper classes were arranged so she had assumed it had not bothered him when Miss Jenkins ended their agreement but perhaps he had really cared for her. Stranger things had happened after all.
It was rather hard to imagine this stony-faced, glowering man with all his privilege and wealth being able to love anyone but himself, however.
“That is to say, I have questions about another matter.”
“Whatever it is, I have no comment on it. I do not care if Lady W is having an affair with a Sir S or if the patrons of Almacks are threatening to bar a certain devious rake from the hallowed dance floor.” He locked his gaze to hers. “I, Miss Haversham, have no inclination for gossip.”
She didn’t normally care if people derided her work. It was merely a means to an end after all. But for some reason it stung, like she’d rolled into a cluster of nettles and now her skin was heated and painful. It shouldn’t. Why should she care for the opinion of a man who had never worked a day in his life?
Lifting her shoulders, Freya maintained eye contact with him. “I am not looking for gossip. I am looking for facts. On a particularly important matter.”
“Oh yes,” he drawled.
“The disappearance of Lady Steele.”
Something flickered in his gaze. It might have been a trick of the light streaming from the nearby building, but she didn’t think so. Her instincts were rarely wrong, especially when she came across a story, and right now, her instincts were aflame.
He knew something.
“You were one of the last people to be seen with her after all,” Freya probed. “Right before she vanished,” she added. “That was over four years ago now.”
He shrugged. “She was a member of the ton. We titled folk do tend to spend some time together, Miss Haversham, as you may have noticed.”
“So she did not say anything to you? Did not infer that she was in trouble of any kind? Because you must admit, it is odd. There has been rather a rash of disappearances and kidnappings of wealthy women of late. In fact, there has been at least four that I have—”
He held up a hand. “Miss Haversham, it seems you have quite the fevered imagination. As much as I would like to say that I keep company with many of the beautiful women of the ton, I do not. I am a busy man with little time for socializing and frivolities. I’m sorry if that does not feed your column but there you have it.” He waved a hand behind her, and she scowled and turned. A carriage rolled up and he jumped in, swiftly tapping the roof.
“Good evening, Miss Haversham,” he said as he slammed shut the door of the hack and leaned out of the window. “With haste,” he barked at the driver before she could quite fathom what had occurred.
The carriage moved off, leaving her no time to react or grab the door. She dropped her hand and watched the vehicle vanish around the corner. What would she have done had she managed to snatch the door? Hang off the vehicle like a madwoman?
Perhaps.
Well, he might have escaped her tonight, but this would not be the last he saw of her. There was a story behind the quite handsome earl’s eyes, and nothing would dissuade her from finding out what it was.
Chapter Two
Guy ditched the carriage some way from his meeting spot after bellowing the direction to the driver as they moved rapidly through the quiet streets. He peered around the dark roads. Windows glowed and streetlamps were being lit, slowly eating away at the shadows that dominated. The scent of smoke imbued the air as houses ignited their fires to keep away the Autumn chill. A light breeze whipped past him, ruffling his cravat. He tugged his coat tighter around his neck and took one more look around.
A few people moved briskly along the pavement and several carriages rolled by. He eyed each closely. There was no chance Miss Haversham had