Page 5 of Most Sought-After Scoundrel in London (Wicked Widows League #31)

V iolet’s eyes closed as she inhaled the sweet scent of blooms and counted. One…Two…

Her shadow ducked behind a stall, and she stilled her shoulders so as not to give away the chuckle that was threatening to escape her.

Lord Hurlington had emerged from the shadows the moment she had left Matron Manor.

If she hadn’t adopted the habit of surveying the street from her chamber window as she broke her fast, Violet wouldn’t have noticed Lord Hurlington pacing in the alley opposite Matron Manor.

Nor would her overactive imagination have been triggered had she not been attempting to read the man’s lips as he muttered.

Skilled at deciphering others’ words from afar, Violet had struggled to settle her racing heart as she became fascinated with the man’s mouth, which left her wondering what it would feel like pressed up against her own. Blast her wayward thoughts....

Four. Five.

Slowly swiveling on the ball of her foot, Violet turned and opened her eyes, scanning the row of flower sellers, ready to confront the man who had her mind awhirl. Eyes narrowed, Violet’s brow creased. Where was Lord Hurlington?

Violet stilled and focused on the noises around her.

The ever-so-slight shuffle of boots combined with the warmth at her back made her realize Lord Hurlington had managed to slip behind her in the few seconds she had her eyes closed.

Rather than turning to face the man as she had originally planned, she shifted slightly and bent at the waist to examine a bunch of bright yellow roses to take a moment to gather her thoughts.

“Hmm… Lovely.” Lord Hurlington’s gravelly voice next to her ear had Violet sharply straightening, causing her back to briefly brush up against the man’s solid chest. His hands clasped about her upper arms, holding her in place.

When she dared to look over her shoulder, Violet noted he wasn’t looking at the flowers before them but rather directly at her.

Egad. The man was incorrigible. An indisputable scoundrel.

Ignoring the flood of heat warming her cheeks, Violet shrugged and said, “Partial to the color yellow, Lord Hurlington?”

“Not particularly, although I do favor roses over any other bloom.” He removed his hands and slid beside her to inspect the bundles of flowers offered.

She looked up at him, and her brow over her left eye arched naturally as she asked, “Not afraid of thorns then?”

“Would you think less of me if I admitted that thorns terrify me?”

His attention remained on the blooms as if he dared not to face her.

While his question was delivered in a teasing tone, there was an undertone of sincerity that made her wonder what the thorns represented to Lord Hurlington.

Why was he being so open and honest with her?

She snuck another look up at Lord Hurlington, who now had his hands clasped behind his back as he continued to admire the roses.

Certainly, he didn’t believe she would be as foolish as to immediately trust him simply because he shared one of his fears with her, or did he?

Violet reached into her reticule for a shilling, only to be presented with a bunch of pink roses.

“For you, Lady Violet.” Lord Hurlington’s smile was all knowing, as if he knew pink was her favorite color.

What else did the scoundrel know?

Cautiously, she took the flowers and cradled them in her arm. “My thanks, Lord Hurlington, I’m certain these shall brighten up the foyer.”

Rather than following her as he had earlier, Lord Hurlington slipped into stride next to her. “Do you visit the flower mart every morn?”

The rogue was trying to extract information from her. “No, not every morning.” She fell silent as a challenge to the man. Would he continue to make further inquiries or take another approach? Either way, she hoped she would be able to discover his true intent.

They were about to exit the flower mart when he captured her elbow and drew her into a side alley. “If you wish to continue to roam about freely, I suggest we have a talk in private.” Lord Hurlington’s gaze skimmed their surroundings and then landed upon her once more.

The seriousness in his tone had her nodding.

His hand wrapped about hers, and he led her through the back alleys as if he had grown up among the street merchants rather than the ton .

His actions only further confirmed her suspicions that the man was a member of the Network.

Excited to discover more about the man and the secret society she’d heard fascinating rumors of, Violet followed Lord Hurlington blindly and ignored the way his touch had set her heart racing.

Skirts gripped tightly in one hand, her other hand in Lord Hurlington’s vice-like hold, Violet ran alongside Lord Hurlington, who managed to dart around both carts and crates with an ease that astounded her.

When her guide stopped abruptly, Violet tripped over her own feet and found herself wrapped up in his arm briefly before he set her to rights and then took an extraordinarily large step back and a sidestep to fall into the shadows.

She glanced about to gain her bearings and was surprised to see that she merely had to take a step forward and she’d be on the main thoroughfare of Bond Street.

From behind her, Lord Hurlington asked, “Are you attending Lady Theo’s literary salon this eve?”

“I never miss Lady Theo’s gatherings. Are you required to attend?

” Violet searched Lord Hurlington’s features as she probed to discover if her suspicions that Lady Theo was a PORF were correct.

Lady Theo, much like Lady Bronwyn, not only held the socially expected balls and soirees but also opened her home to a select, intimate group of individuals.

Individuals who held secrets that Lady Theo was privy to.

Lady Theo was one of a handful of individuals who knew Violet wrote her under a pseudonym.

Lady Theo often selected Violet’s poems for discussion, which had provided Violet both support and an avenue for improvement of her works.

With a masked look that Violet believed to be well practiced, Lord Hurlington answered, “I quite enjoy the intimate group Lady Theo favors for her salons. However, to answer your question, let me remind you that I am a gentleman and a lord at that, thus able to come and go as I please.”

It wasn’t a denial nor a confirmation but if the man was part of the Network, she would have been gravely disappointed had Lord Hurlington given her a simple, straight-forward answer. After all, he didn't trust her, and she didn’t trust him.

“Ahh, yes… the privileges of being a man.” She couldn’t help the sarcasm that had seeped into her voice.

“I believe I shall exercise my own prerogative as a widow and bid you a good day.” Violet turned to make her way down Bond Street and pay the confectioner, Mr. Hardy, a visit but was stopped by Lord Hurlington’s expansive chest. How in the blazes did a man of his size move so silently and swiftly?

“I’d like to have that talk that both you and I know needs to be had.”

“Now?”

Her heart sank as Lord Hurlington shook his head and replied, “No. Not now. Tonight. During Lady Theo’s salon.”

She glanced up at the sky. Egad. It was barely close to the noon hour. Lady Theo’s salon was hours away. Violet smiled. Patience was one of her stronger attributes. “Very well, Lord Hurlington, until this eve.”

Wanting to have the last word for once, Violet marched past Lord Hurlington and slipped into the crowd behind a gaggle of debutantes full of energy that she was suddenly lacking after leaving the scoundrel’s side.

“Where in the devil is Lady Violet?” Camron complained to his hosts, Lord Archbroke and Lady Theo, as he continued to pace the length of the study.

“Good gracious, Hurlington, what is with your sudden interest in the woman?” asked Archbroke, who was not only a PORF but also the Head of the Home Office and welded enormous power that many were unaware of.

Cameron’s stomach was in knots as he turned to face the man he was sworn to protect and serve.

He’d debated all afternoon upon what the right course of action was.

Should he inform Archbroke and the Network Council of Lady Violet’s suspicions, which felt like a betrayal of the woman’s trust, or should he remain silent and ensure that the woman ceased to involve herself in matters that were far too dangerous for an unprotected widow, which conflicted with his oath to the Network?

Still undecided, Camron raked his hand through his hair.

Lady Theo stepped up to stand next to her husband, effectively blocking his path and preventing him from continuing to pace. “Lady Violet will not be joining us this eve.”

“Why ever not? She clearly stated…”

Lady Theo raised her hand, halting him from continuing. “I asked you to adjourn to Archbroke’s study to discuss a matter that has come to my attention, not to address who will or will not be in attendance tonight.”

Her serious tone had him straightening and giving Lady Theo his full attention. Damn. He’d faltered and allowed a woman to distract him to no end, which hadn’t ever been an issue in the past. “My apologies, Lady Theo.”

“No apologies necessary. I simply need you to focus on your task of seeing to Bronwyn’s safety.

” Lady Theo pinned him with her direct gaze.

The woman was of small stature but she was as imposing as her husband, who now stood behind her rather than next to her, giving her full authority to lead the discussion.

“No more traipsing about flower marts. You are to be at Bronwyn’s beck and call at all times until advised otherwise.

Do you have any qualms or objections, Hurlington? ”

Now was his opportunity to address the issue of Lady Violet, yet hesitation set in once more. “No, my lady. I have no objections, and you can be rest assured that my sole focus shall be on the Countess of Hadfield’s safety.”

“You’ve never given me reason to doubt you, Hurlington.

However, Bronwyn is averse to having more security appointed to her; hence, you are to carry out your duties as discreetly as possible.

” With a wave of her hand, Lady Theo beckoned him to come closer.

“I grant you permission to employ whatever resources necessary to aid you in your duties. However, you must keep me informed at all times.”

As he straightened, Lady Theo’s piercing gaze had him questioning whether she was indeed a mind reader. Bending down once more, so that his question was for Lady Theo’s ears only, he asked, “Do I have your permission to recruit Lady Violet to assist me?”

“Not unless you are willing to stand before the archbishop.”

He took a step back and stared at Lady Theo, who was not known for jests.

With an angelic smile that would normally put him at ease, only this time had the opposite effect and placed him on edge, Lady Theo added, “Those are my terms, Hurlington.”

She turned and hooked her arm through her husband’s.

The look of admiration on Lord Archbroke’s face was clearly evident.

The couple’s preference to be in each other's company was rare amongst the ton although not uncommon for those bonded by duty and purpose within the Network.

His own father and mother shared a deep connection that often bewildered him and his sisters.

Thankfully, his sisters were able to make compatible matches, while he was still searching for his person.

The sudden visage of Lady Violet flashed before his mind's eye, making Camron blink to clear his vision.

He convinced himself the image of the woman was due to the unresolved matter of how he should handle the situation of Lady Violet.

It had nothing to do with the fact that his pulse raced in her presence nor the fact that his thoughts continued to be plagued with questions like what Violet would think of this or that.

He crossed his arms over his chest, then unfolded them, and then crossed them once more. Damnation. He shouldn’t be dallying about; he had a task to do, yet Lady Theo’s threat of marriage had him pondering what a life with Lady Violet might be like.

Expelling a long sigh, he marched out of the study.

He joined the others in the library, where he stood at attention next to Lady Bronwyn, who was engaged in a lively discussion of when the infamous poet Louisa Herman might pen her next literary piece.

While he enjoyed the verses penned by Ms. Herman, Camron’s interests lay more in what the devil Lady Violet was currently doing.