Dangerous Liaison (Lords of Whitehall Book 2)

nature and claimed his skill of observation had earned him many a coin.
Cross gifted the viscount with a hard stare before handing him the coin. “Don’t gloat.”
Moreham growled at Sturmbridge. “You wagered against me?”
“No, I wagered on Miss Browning. We have another wager but have agreed not to reveal the conditions to keep you from queering up the outcome,” Sturm replied.
“Is there anything we can do? I assume you and the young lady have a plan.” Sturm turned the conversation back to the subject of the search.
“Yes, I’m to enter Whitney Place on Friday evening while the duke and his duchess are out for the evening. Miss Browning will unlock the duke’s bookroom and assist me in searching for evidence. Proof she is convinced I’ll not find.
“I’ll need one of you to hide away in Whitney’s infamous rose garden. Should anything go awry, I’ll give a shout. Your arrival may save me from an appointment with the archbishop.”
His friends exchanged a look, but for once remained silent. Moreham motioned for the two men to sit. “With that bit of business out of the way…tell me what has happened since I left you.”
Sturm spoke this time. “Still no sign of Arnold. We’ve haunted the docks asking questions, but no one is owning up to knowing anything about the man. I hate to say this but it’s looking more and more like he’s sailed for Portugal. He could have stowed away on The Vigilant.”
Moreham shook his head. “We don’t know that for certain. Have Fitzroy assign a team to continue the inquiry into Arnold’s whereabouts. Cross, don’t forget you are attending Mrs. Ramsey’s salon tomorrow. With Lady Serena’s departure with Weatherington for Portugal, you’ll be the one to write the report on what happens during that salon. Tread carefully, I don’t like that we’ve been caught off guard at every turn since Arnold’s arrest. For the man to escape means he had help. From here on out, we only trust each other.”
“Your plan to enter Whitney’s home and with the assistance of his very marriageable niece to forage through his most private papers is much more interesting than searching for an assassin, don’t you think?”
Moreham glared at his friend and laughed. “Yes, I agree. The complication of Gillian Browning is indeed an interesting turn of events. I fear she will lead me on a merry chase.”
“Are you worried she’ll compromise our investigation?” Sturm demanded.
Moreham gave him a dark look. “No, worse. I’m afraid I will end up married to her.”

Chapter 3
Friday Evening
Whitney Place Mews, Mayfair, London
“There’s still time to change your mind.”
Moreham refused to look at Cross. “The subject isn’t up for discussion.
“James, you’re not only risking a lady’s reputation, but you are jeopardizing the mission you’ve been entrusted to see to its conclusion.”
“What? No concern for my own reputation?”
“Of course, I worry for your good name, but we both know after the Phillips chit you could not care less what Society thinks of you. As I said it’s not too late, we can decamp to White’s for dinner or catch the new play at Covent Garden.”
The carriage jerked to a stop. Only then did Moreham shift in his seat. “Cross, you must see I have no other choice. We have nothing to implicate Whitney to the 1804 Society. Our man failed to gain entrance to the duke’s private office. The lady’s offer to help is God sent. With Arnold’s arrest and escape, we must move quickly to expose Whitney so we can rout this den of traitors. Whitney is the key to our success.”
Moreham motioned for Cross to exit the carriage then joined him on the walkway. He followed his friend through the garden gate. They approached a rose arbor against the garden wall and waited.
His agent, dressed in Whitney’s livery, appeared out of the shadows and nodded. Leaving Cross behind, Moreham followed the silent man to a pair of French windows. The man slipped away as Gillian opened the door.
Moreham told himself he was still objective where the lady was concerned, but he knew he was lying. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t deny his clammy palms and pounding heart at the sight of her in the darkened corridor. Dressed in another brown gown more suited for a servant than a lady, she obviously put reducing the risk of discovery above fashion. Quite well done of her.
After his two encounters with the lady, he knew she possessed a strong sense of loyalty to those she loved and would fight him and anyone else who threatened her family. Gillian Browning was an avenging angel who would fight him and any other to the death to save the Duke and Duchess of Whitney.
He took a step back. For an instant, confusion filled her eyes. Did she feel the attraction, the need to linger close and inhale his essence as he relished the whiff of her scent?
“I’ve been anticipating this evening with you as my guide. Dare I hope you have felt the same?”
“No, the thought never occurred to me,” she countered. “I haven’t given you a thought since our ride.”
He wanted to call her a liar but refrained. Now wasn’t the time to delve into the attraction he felt and could see reflected in her eyes.
Not only did they have the issue of her uncle’s possible treasonous activities. There was her aunt’s hostility toward him. The duchess would never agree to a request from the likes of him to court the lady. The sooner he accepted he and Gillian were fated to be star-crossed the sooner he could concentrate on his investigation
The previous year, his mother’s goddaughter, Miss Emily Phillips, had come to Town for the season. A spoiled golden-haired child, she believed he would see her and fall madly in love. When the girl realized he had no interest in her, she behaved badly. One night, the little sneak made her way to his bed. Unfortunately, the girl started screaming for help before she checked to see