A Most Improper Rumor Read Free

she’d just had her twenty-fourth birthday, but she felt far older.
    “That isn’t my concern, but understandably, the more I know, the better I can discreetly gather information.”
    Discreet. That was exactly what she wanted. The assurance Lord Heathton would provide his own brand of secrecy was part of the reason she was sitting in his study.
    Angelina nodded once with as much decisiveness as she could summon. “He isn’t part of this except to the extent I now am no longer willing to accept what has happened and do nothing. The awfulness of the trial and the scandal made me wish to hide away from the world. But that, I have found, does not work, and besides, it isn’t fair to me or him. Or even to William and Thomas for that matter, not to seek to uncover the truth.”
    “I understand your motivations and agree, but if you wish me to look into this matter, then let me judge what might be valuable and what isn’t.”
    That was fair enough. Actually, more than fair, for she’d offered him nothing in return. The Earl of Heathton did not need her money. That she knew already. She had little to give him but the challenge.
    And she’d been assured that this sticky problem might pique his interest.
    “He doesn’t care about the cloud over me and thinks he is capable of protecting himself,” she said with a careful lack of inflection. “I disagree. How can one protect oneself from some unknown poison? It isn’t possible if the murderer is determined, short of having someone else taste your food, and that barbaric custom is long gone, thank goodness.”
    “At least in England,” Heathton agreed. “The rulers in North Africa still employ it, from what I understand. It would be a difficult way to live, suspicious of every bite or drink. Do I know him?”
    A polite way of asking if her lover was of the beau monde. “Probably,” she admitted.
    “I thought so.”
    They had been so circumspect that even her maid did not suspect she was meeting clandestinely with someone. Alternating mornings, evenings, and nights, they used different places, and never acknowledged each other in public. She’d insisted and reluctantly he’d agreed, though he swore it did not matter to him if they were seen together.
    However, if something happened to him, she couldn’t bear it. She’d survived the rest of it. The accusations, the public degradation, the seclusion with even the servants whispering behind her back, but
harm
to him because of her was inconceivable. She would shatter into a thousand pieces, the damage irreversible.
    “We met a half year ago. I still have a few friends left, and I was invited to a small house party.” Remembering that weekend brought a small smile of reminiscence, an indulgence she allowed herself. “I know this might sound like romantic female drivel, but it was one of those moments. I walked into the drawing room and we looked at each other and I
knew
.”
    God bless Eve for inviting him. For inviting them both.
    Angelina added, “Trust me when I say I was the last person to believe in love at first sight, my lord. I am more grateful to him than you know for adjusting my jaded and weary view of the world. I find love has the ability to heal even the deepest wounds.”
    Once the words were out, in the resulting silence, she had the impression, just a fleeting one, that she’d just made the erstwhile unflappable Earl of Heathton slightly uncomfortable. Was it the mention of the word love?
    The earl’s expression was too bland to tell. He said, “I take it you are staying in London. Give me the address and I will correspond with you as needed.”
    She nodded, taking the pen and vellum in front of her on the desk, and wrote down the address of her rented town house. At least he hadn’t demanded to know the name of the man who had given her a glimpse of possible happiness, for she was truly reluctant to give it. He was the catalyst for her to take action, but she wanted to shield him as much as