Page 64 of The Art of Sinning

That seemed to flummox Warren. “A plan? For what?”

“Let me explain—” Yvette began.

“No time for that,” Jeremy said. “If Knightford has come after us, we’ve already lingered longer than we should have. Your brother will be looking for you.” He opened the door to the hackney. “Get in.”

“I’m going, too,” Warren said firmly.

Jeremy glared at him. “Fine. It’s better we have this discussion in private anyway, so we can get our stories straight.”

Then Warren was half helping, half lifting her into the carriage. He sat next to her, as if to protect her from Jeremy, who jumped in and took the opposite seat with a glower that would have done Edwin proud.

As soon as the carriage set off, Jeremy snapped, “How did you find us?”

“How do you think?” Warren said. “I followed you to Mrs. Beard’s.”

“But that makes no sense,” Yvette said. “I’m in disguise.”

Warren snorted. “Some disguise—Clarissa’s cloak.”

“But any number of women tonight wore cloaks.”

“True, but I didn’t happen to see any ofthemleave with Keane.”

“Thunderation,” Jeremy said to Yvette. “Let’s pray no one else recognized you.”

“I don’t think they did,” Warren grudgingly ad­­mitted. “I only noticed when I headed out into the garden for a bit of air and saw you go off with a woman in a black cloak. At first I thought nothing of it. Although I knew Clarissa had worn one, she hasn’t even been introduced to you. Then I spotted Yvette’s crook behind a bush and put it together.”

“Oh, Lord,” she said.

“It took me a bit to figure out where you’d gone—I had to question the coachmen milling about—but I finally found one who’d overheard Keane giving the direction to the hackney driver, and I recognized the address.”

“Of course you did,” she said archly. “You’re a frequent visitor to Covent Garden nunneries, as I recall.”

Warren muttered a curse. “That’s neither here nor there.” He jerked his head toward Jeremy. “Besides, so is Keane. And he actually had the audacity to bring youwithhim!”

“Because I asked him to!” she cried. “He’s doing me a favor.”

That took the wind right out of Warren’s sails. He sat back hard against the seat. “If this is about getting more words for those bloody dictionaries—”

“It’s a serious private matter that’s none of your concern. Mr. Keane was merely helping me learn the truth about... something.”

“A truth that necessitated being locked up in a room with him?”

Thank heaven he couldn’t see her crimson cheeks beneath the mask. “That was because I got into a dispute with Mrs. Beard. I became... rather hysterical, and Mr. Keane got me off alone to calm me down. And to discuss what to do next, since she refused to give me the information I required.”

“What information?” Warren demanded.

“It’snone of your concern,” Yvette repeated.

A muscle tightened in his jaw. “Why couldn’t you askmeto help you?”

“You would have gone right to Edwin. And I didn’t want him sticking his nose in it.”

Warren blanched. “Bloody hell, girl—”

“I am not a girl! I am a full-grown woman with a mind of her own.”

“More than you could possibly know,” Jeremy muttered.