Mistress - Amanda Quick [36]
“Good day, Mrs. Osworth,” Iphiginia said.
Marcus was silent until Mrs. Osworth was out of earshot. “Why do you wish to go to the Lartmore ball? Bound to be a dead bore.”
“Two reasons,” Iphiginia said crisply. “The first is that I would dearly love to see Lord Lartmore’s statuary collection.”
“He allows only his closest acquaintances and certain, ah, connoisseurs to tour it.”
“I hope to prevail upon him to show it to me.”
“You wouldn’t be interested. Rather poorly executed copies, for the most part.”
Iphiginia momentarily forgot that she was annoyed with Marcus. “You’ve seen it?”
“Yes, and you may take my word for it. There is nothing to interest the scholar in Lartmore’s statuary hall.”
“How disappointing. I was so looking forward to viewing his antiquities.”
“Save your time. What was the other reason you wished to attend?”
“To pursue my inquiries, of course. His name is on my list of men who connect your world with that of my aunt’s. And you did play a few hands with Lartmore at your club that night before you left for Yorkshire.”
Marcus eyed her speculatively. “You really have done a most thorough investigation of my activities, have you not?”
“I told you that I had made a close study of your habits.”
“Lartmore is no blackmailer.”
“How do you know that?”
“He’s extremely wealthy. He has no reason to resort to blackmail.”
“Perhaps he has recently suffered some serious reverses in his fortunes.”
“Unlikely,” Marcus said. “As it happens, however, I intend to dine at my club this evening. Afterward I shall arrange to play some cards. One can learn a great deal at the card tables. I shall see if there is any hint of gossip concerning Lartmore’s finances.”
Iphiginia pursed her lips. “I wish I could arrange to play a few hands at some of the gentlemen’s clubs. There is no telling what I might learn.”
“Do not even think about it,” Marcus said. “It’s impossible and well you know it. I shall look for you at the Richardsons’ ball sometime around eleven. I can give you my report.”
“You are attempting to dissuade me from attending the Lartmore ball, are you not?”
“Mrs. Bright, so that you are quite clear on this point, allow me to make it plain that I am ordering you not to go to Lartmore’s.”
“Hmm. My lord, I have a question for you.”
“Yes?”
“Would you care to tell me precisely why your friend is being blackmailed?”
“No, I would not,” Marcus said bluntly. “Surely you do not expect me to divulge a confidence.”
“No, of course not. I merely thought that if I knew the nature of your friend’s secret, I might be able to compare it to the sort of secret information that is being used against my aunt. I cannot help but wonder if there might be some similarities.”
Marcus narrowed his eyes. He looked intrigued in spite of himself. “I don’t suppose you would care to tell me the nature of the secret material that you claim is being used to blackmail Lady Guthrie?”
“No.”
“So I am left to wonder if she really is being blackmailed.”
Iphiginia gave him a lofty smile. “You cannot expect me to trust you with my secrets when you have made it clear that you are not prepared to trust me with yours.”
Marcus’s powerful hand clamped more firmly around her arm. “Your lack of faith in me is going to make it somewhat awkward for us to work together.”
“It certainly will,” Iphiginia agreed. “And your lack of trust in me will have an equally chilling effect on our efforts.”
Marcus gave her a disturbing smile. “It is clear that if we are to break down the barriers of distrust between us, we must become more intimately acquainted, Mrs. Bright.”
“How do you suggest we go about becoming more closely acquainted, sir?”
“To begin, why don’t you tell me what happened to Mr. Bright?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Marcus raised one brow. “I was referring to your late husband.”
“Oh, him.”
“Obviously you no longer grieve for the departed.”
“He wouldn