Dangerous Liaison (Lords of Whitehall Book 2)

turned back to face her. “Miss Browning, please know I’ll not stop until I have the truth. Thousands of British lives depend on unearthing anyone who has decided to throw their lot in with the French. I’ll be watching you closely. Of that, have no doubt.”
The earl disappeared from sight. Gillian fell back on to the settee. The encounter had taken every bit of energy and resolve she’d possessed.
“Well done, my dear. You do have a backbone. I have known gentlemen who cowered like babes when face-to-face with Moreham and his displeasure.”
Gillian laughed at the sound of Philly’s voice. “I should have known you would be listening. Did you hear everything?”
The lady came around the end of the settee and joined her. “Yes, the third panel on the right side of the fireplace is my hidey hole.” She motioned over her shoulder. “Don’t look at me that way. I’ll use whatever means necessary to protect the Crown.” Philly leaned closer to pat Gillian’s hand. “Which brings us to the reason you are doing this…your uncle’s honor. I must agree with Moreham and advise you once again to allow those of us skilled in subterfuge to discover the truth.”
“Uncle Whitney is innocent,” she declared.
Philly grimaced. “Oh, Gillian, I hope you are right. For all our sakes.”
“What do you mean?”
“Unthinkable is what it is. Imagine the uproar if a close advisor to the King, a king who is known to be addle-brained most of the time, is found to be a traitor. Such a revelation would throw the government into crisis.”
Gillian had no reply. What had seemed like a quest for justice for her sweet uncle had turned far more dangerous. Was she willing to risk it all? The sad truth was she had no choice.

Chapter 2
Four hours later
Rotten Row, Hyde Park
“Paladin, easy boy.” Moreham patted his horse’s neck. This morning, Paladin possessed as little patience as he did. He didn’t need to consult his pocket watch to know Gillian was late.
Gillian.
He winced. When had he started thinking of her so? She was a duke’s ward. Thinking of her in such a familiar manner did not bode well for his peace of mind. Better to think of her as a means to an end rather than the shy, but resolute, woman who had occupied his thoughts since their early morning rendezvous, hours earlier.
His disappointment in Gillian’s failure to appear brought home how much the woman interested him. That realization alone should have told him what a horrid idea this was. With her help, he’d be trespassing and stealing from a duke. Though he’d been quite the rogue in times past, he’d never crossed the entrenched boundary of honor. He’d mulled the situation over when he should have been sleeping. His only explanation was his attraction to the woman. Her offer was too enticing to refuse. A fact she well understood, or she would not have risked ruination of her name to seek him out in the dead of night. The genteel lady was too enticing and had robbed him of all good sense.
Moreham resigned himself to one more circuit down Rotten Row and back before returning to his townhouse and his breakfast. He’d had a near miss. Had Gillian appeared and they’d ridden together, every gossip in London would have feasted on that snippet for weeks.
“My lord, dare I hope your look of impatience is because of me?” Gillian laughed as she eased her horse alongside. “My groom’s horse threw a shoe and we returned his mount to my uncle’s stable. My apology for not arriving punctually for our appointment.”
“Many of my friends would say I’m far too patient. As for my facial expression, I was relishing the thought of you not joining me. Unlike some of our class, I do not enjoy being fodder for the gossips. The mere act of speaking to each other will be spoken of often over the coming days.”
Deciding enough had been said about their current predicament, he forced a smile. Time for the farce to begin. Moreham dipped his head in greeting. “Miss Browning, what a treat to see you this morning. I’m enjoying the air. I hope you will join me.”
“My lord, how gallant of you to offer your company. I will be equally as engaging and accept.” Gillian dismissively flicked her hand toward her groom. “Stay as you are.”
Gillian turned back to him. “Shall we?”
Moreham nodded but said nothing. He motioned for her to take the lead and directed Paladin to fall in beside her mare. They made their way sedately along Rotten Row while at least three of Moreham’s acquaintances rode past at a canter. He had a ribbing coming when he showed up at White’s later. No doubt, he’d find a wager in the betting book as to his chances of winning Gillian’s hand. The worst of it was he could say nothing. If anything, being romantically linked to her, would save their necks should they be discovered in Whitney’s bookroom.
“Moreham, shall we discuss our plan?” Her soft voice broke through his woolgathering.
“Our plan? My dear, I regard your offer of assistance as your plan. You are risking your reputation by meeting me this morning. What sort of lady desires to take that gamble even further by breeching her uncle’s privacy? If we are caught, we’ll be forced to marry with all haste. My mother and Whitney will see to it.”
Gillian laughed. She leaned closer and whispered. “Your mother? You, an agent of the Crown, caving to your mother’s demands? I find that hard to believe.”
“My mother I can handle. ’Tis your uncle I’m more concerned with. Whitney can call me out. I’m not fond of duels at dawn.”
“No worries there. Uncle Whitney is a horrible shot. Doesn’t own a pair of pistols. Aunt Isadora forbids it.”
“None of what you say makes me feel better. Best if we avoid both discovery and marriage.”
“My lord, to that end, my aunt has accepted invitations to three balls Friday evening. I’ll