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certainly persistent.” Leopold lounged at the end of the bed, his back against the thick ornately carved post. “Clever, too. If not
    for us they would have won this game long ago, even after his lordship discovered the ugly truth about his wife.”
    “Ah, but not all the ugly truth.”
    “I think he suspects most of it. He already strongly suspects that that babe was not his get. And that his wife was never faithful to him, never much
    cared for him at al .”
    “How do you know al that?”
    “His best friend has become mine. Do not look so uneasy, love. I truly like the fel ow. Met him the first time I saved this poor sot’s hide. Thought he
    could be useful, but quickly saw that he was a man I could cal friend. Even more important—he was a man I could trust.”
    Chloe nodded and set aside her empty cup. “How much does this friend know?”
    “Nearly al . Guessed most of it himself. Since I was already disinclined to lie to the man, I implied that I had begun to look into the business after the second attempt on the earl’s life. He told me that was exactly when Lord Kenwood himself had begun to believe that his wife wanted him dead, that
    she was no longer happy just cuckolding him.”
    “Who is this friend?”
    “The honorable Sir Edgar Dramfield.”
    “Oh, I know him. I have met him at Lady Mil icent’s on occasion. She is his godmother. A very good fel ow. He is kinder to Lady Mil icent than her
    own daughter is.”
    “He is a good man and he is very concerned about his friend. That is why I sent word to him this morning about Lord Kenwood’s injuries, asking
    him to keep it quiet. Very quiet. He wil undoubtedly arrive soon.”
    “Are you sure that is wise? Lord Kenwood may not wish others to hear what we have to tel him.”
    Leopold sighed. “It was a hard decision. Yet the earl does not know us at al , does he? He has, however, known Edgar al his life, trusts him, and
    has bared his soul to the man on a few occasions.”
    “Whilst deep in his cups, I suspect.”
    “That is usual y when a man bares his soul,” Leopold drawled and then smiled at Chloe when she rol ed her eyes. “I felt the earl would need a
    friend, Chloe, and Edgar is the only close one he has. We wil be tel ing his lordship some very ugly truths, and he needs to believe us.”
    “You said he already has his own suspicions,” Chloe began.
    “Suspicions do not carry the same weight, or wield the same blow to one’s heart. We wil be fil ing in a lot of holes he may have concerning his
    suspicions and giving him proof. There is also one hard, cold fact we must present to him, one that would bring many a man to his knees. It would certainly cut me more deeply than I care to think about. We may also need Edgar to help us keep this fool from going off half-cocked and to convince him to al ow
    us to stay in the game.”
    “What game?”
    Chloe joined Leopold in staring at Lord Kenwood in surprise. There had been no warning that he was about to wake up, no movements, not even
    a faint sound. When he attempted to sit up, he gasped with pain and grew alarmingly pale. Chloe quickly moved to plump up the pil ows behind him even
    as Leopold helped the man sit up and drink some cider doctored with herbs meant to stave off infection and strengthen the blood.
    “I know you,” Julian said after taking several slow, deep breaths to push aside his pain. “Lord Sir Leopold Wherlocke of Starkley.” He looked at
    Chloe. “I do not know you.”
    “Chloe Wherlocke. Leo’s cousin,” Chloe said.
    There was definitely a similarity in looks, Julian decided. Chloe was also slender, although a great deal shorter than her cousin. Julian doubted
    Chloe stood much higher than five feet, if that. She had the same color hair, a brown so dark it was nearly black, but her hair appeared to be bone straight whereas Leopold’s was an unruly mass of thick curls and waves. Chloe was also cute more than pretty with her wide inky blue eyes. Julian nearly