Page 8 of Regent Street Rogue (The Rakes of Rotten Row #6)
BETRAYAL?
" L ord Helton to see you, Your Grace."
"Send him in," Malum replied, not glancing up from the papers scattered across his desk.
The study at Preston Hall occupied the same space it had when the previous duke lived there, but Malum had completely renovated it in yet another effort to erase his father's memory. Rich mahogany shelves lined with leather-bound books created a sense of understated luxury. The golden glow of candlelight cast flickering shadows on the dark rugs.
When the door closed behind his butler, Malum folded the report he’d been reading and leaned back in his chair, his gaze catching on the contract provided by the Wellington Household Placement Agency .
The domestic employment agency, after sending one of their managers over to make profuse apologies, swearing, of course, that Mrs. Flora Green was not one of their people, had immediately provided three replacement candidates. This time, Malum had taken the task of hiring one seriously, meeting with each woman personally before making his choice. He’d selected a grandmotherly woman with a calm demeanor and only after checking on the nursery no less than three times had he settled into his study for a late meal, using the reports in front of him as a distraction.
How the devil could such a tiny little human create such chaos?
Malum ran a hand down his face, welcoming the prospect of an interruption. The Earl of Helton, owner of two of London’s most prominent newspapers, shared Malum’s unrelenting determination to see Crossings behind bars. Today’s meeting offered not only a strategic opportunity but also a chance to anchor himself in the familiar rhythm of calculated plans and shared purpose.
The door opened and Helton entered, his footsteps muffled by the thick rugs. Dark-haired and broad-shouldered, he cut an imposing figure, though the glint of his spectacles softened his otherwise severe appearance.
Malum didn’t rise but gestured for him to sit. Unlike Malum’s reserved intensity, Helton carried his authority with a restless energy that never seemed to wane. Even now, his sharp gaze darted around the room as though cataloging its contents before he settled into the chair.
“Any updates?” Malum asked, leaning back in his chair.
Helton adjusted his spectacles and nodded. “The plan seems to be working. Crossings has been... inconvenienced.”
Malum’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Losing three shipments can do that…”
“Quite,” Helton said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “And it’s not just the cargo. All signs indicate his investors are running scared.”
Malum’s fingers tapped lightly against the arm of his chair. Vigilance was crucial now. Without funding, Crossings would be feeling the strain, and pressure often led to unpredictability. “It’s progress,” he said. Although not enough.
“I’m not sure he’ll survive one more message from your… friend.”
“That’s the idea…” Malum agreed.
“Until then, we wait.”” Helton rubbed his neck.
Malum reached for the decanter, pouring two glasses of brandy. As he pushed one toward Helton, he said casually, “I had an interesting run-in with Northwoods at the Domus the other night.”
Helton raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “I heard something about that. My sources said he caused a bit of a scene. Is there more to it?”
“Accused my dealer of cheating,” Malum said, leaning back in his chair. “But that’s not the interesting part.” He paused, swirling the brandy in his glass. “Northwoods was planning to invest alongside Foxbourne.”
Helton’s brows shot up. “Which means he’s in with Crossings.”
“He denies it,” Malum said.
Helton grew thoughtful. “Put himself between a rock and a hard place, hasn’t he?”
“Right.” Malum had a certain fondness for Helton, not that he’d ever say it aloud. His connections, of course, made him a valuable ally, but Malum’s respect went beyond that. Helton understood the complexities of power and the dirt that came with it.
“Could make him useful in the future,” Helton said.
They sipped their drinks leisurely then, discussing possible strategies, considering the variables, until Malum set down his glass.
He clasped his hands together. “There is something else…” Malum deliberately kept his voice casual. “Concerning your wife’s family.”
Helton winced, shaking his head. “We’re aware,” the earl said. “Caroline wrote to Standish about her worries a few weeks ago. He’s going to have to return to London sooner rather than later. Winterhope is more than capable of finishing the mission at Breaker’s Cottage.”
Steepling his fingers before him, Malum tapped the tips together. He was a little surprised to hear that Lady Melanie’s risky behavior had been going on for so long, because as far as he was aware, she spent most of her time looking out the window.
But if that was the case, Helton was right to be concerned. “Standish can’t have his family drawing unwanted attention.”
The earl frowned, his jaw tightening. “My thoughts exactly. Unfortunately, in the eyes of the ton , Lady Roland is far too giddy over her improved social status. And her attempts to marry poor Josephine off to the highest bidder? Clumsy, at best. Standish needs to take her in hand before—” He exhaled sharply, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Those damned rumors.”
What the devil was Helton talking about? Not, apparently, Lady Melanie, but her mother.
Interesting…
“And your wife can’t convince her to show more restraint?” Malum asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” Helton replied with a faint grimace. “Lady Roland refuses to believe there’s a problem.”
Malum rubbed his chin, considering. “And what of the other daughter?”
Helton’s gaze flicked back to him, curious. “Lady Melanie still refuses to go out. Hardly says a word since the fire.”
But… “Not true,” Malum said.
Helton’s eyes narrowed, sharp as ever. “Oh?”
And here, Malum chose his words carefully.
“Lady Melanie goes out.” No matter how he phrased it, it wouldn’t sound good—and yet, if Helton was responsible for his wife’s family, the earl needed to know. “She paid a visit to the Domus Emporium earlier today.”
The words left his mouth, and with them, the sense that he was repaying her kindness with a betrayal. But what choice did he have? Helton needed the full picture—however damning it might seem.
“You’re joking.” One corner of Helton’s mouth lifted and he shook his head.
“Unfortunately, no,” Malum said.
“What would possibly induce Melanie to go to the Domus ? Why would she?—”
“Her reasons were altruistic, let me assure you,” Malum interrupted. And then, remembering who he was speaking to, felt it necessary to clarify… “We are not on record.”
Helton nodded, although he looked a little suspicious. “Go on.”
“A former Domus employee abandoned an infant at Preston Hall. Your sister-in-law had reason to believe the child wasn’t being cared for properly.” Malum hesitated, feeling a strange urge to defend himself, though he quickly discarded it. After all, the details pertaining to his personal circumstances were irrelevant here. “Regardless, you and I both know the implications—if anyone were to see her enter the Domus .” The damage to her reputation, and her family’s by association, could be catastrophic.
A mix of emotions flickered across Helton’s face. Surprise gave way to concern, and then vexation.
Rumors of a genteel lady wandering into the heart of Malum’s empire—no matter her intentions—weren’t the sort a young woman could come back from.
Helton’s frown deepened as he considered the weight of Malum’s words. “Are you certain it was her?”
“Oh, quite,” Malum answered, his tone firm. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t.”
Helton set his glass down a little too forcefully, his frustration evident. “She’s never been reckless, Malum. Why wouldn’t she just go to her mother? Or send a missive, for God’s sake?”
But Malum knew why she hadn’t. “She acted in the best interests of the child—said it was urgent. And I appreciated that. But I thought you should know.” Malum shrugged, keeping his expression neutral.
A long silence followed. Helton’s brow furrowed as he mulled over the situation.
“Wait. She said it was urgent? She spoke to you?”
“Of course. She’s not mute.”
“…Right.” Helton removed his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “None of this makes sense. She’s hardly said more than two words at a time…”
At this, Malum could only raise his brows. Lady Melanie had seemed quiet, but she’d certainly spoken more than two words to him.
Malum watched as Helton mulled over the implications. When the earl donned his spectacles once again, he looked disappointed and possibly a little angry.
“She isn’t the sort to keep something like this from her sister,” Helton said.
Half-regretting bringing it up, Malum kept silent.
“Is it possible she’s pulled one over on us? She doesn’t want to marry, and struggling to speak is a convenient excuse to avoid Society…” Helton’s lips thinned and his eyes narrowed, and Malum didn’t think he liked where this was going. “It seems my wife and I need to have a word with Lady Melanie. By God.” He shook his head. “I appreciate you telling me,” Helton said at last, though his voice was tight.
Malum nodded, his gaze never leaving Helton’s. “Of course.”
Still, Malum felt uneasy. He had only spoken the truth, however, and matters like these ought to be left to the family to sort out. Shouldn’t they?
Helton stood then, though not without a small, lingering glance in Malum’s direction. “This is unusually... considerate of you, Malum.”
Malum dipped his chin.
As the door closed behind the earl, Malum sat back, fingers drumming lightly on the armrest of his chair as his thoughts returned to the intriguing young woman.
Something about her unsettled him, a gnawing sense of concern he couldn’t quite place. She was more than just his neighbor, more than a potential scandal. She was...
Complicated.
Malum’s jaw tightened as he pushed the thought away. He had no room for complications.