Chapter Two
Rhys watched the ravishing young lady gesture with animation. Surely this could not be the duchess. Her companion was a man he recognized—the Earl of Fairfax. They had done business in the past, and now Rhys understood how she had found him. Clearly, she believed the earl had sent the note. Were they lovers? His thoughts shifted through the dossier he had collected on the earl years ago when they had done business. The man hadn’t possessed a lover, or a wife.
After receiving her letter, Rhys hadn’t taken the time to seek information on the duchess. He’d simply kept all his business meetings for the day and allowed his anticipation and curiosity to simmer. Even though so lowly placed, he had heard of the duchess and her political leanings, but he hadn’t thought to keep her in his crosshairs. He would need to update his file on the earl and create one for the duchess. Information was the bedrock of Rhys’s business, so he waited and watched their body language. He moved closer, keeping his footfall light until he was within hearing distance. The rays from a gas lamp bathed her in a soft glow, and he swallowed. She was even more beautiful up close. The fragrance of her perfume drifted through his senses. Soft, feminine, subtle yet also bold.
His lips had curved when the earl suggested she take a lover. Though a cool blankness had suffused her face, Rhys had spied the curl of hunger in her eyes, and his mouth had gone dry. She did want a man between her thighs. A heady dash of interest stirred within his veins.
He forced himself still as they spoke of a missing woman, and his reputation. Instead of her being afraid of his dastardly notoriety, the interest in her eyes seemed to multiply. She and Lord Fairfax spoke of trivial matters, namely a ball he wished she would attend, and a particular gentleman their mother would be happy for her to grant dances to. So, they were siblings. Ah yes, the dossier had mentioned the earl was in possession of two younger sisters, except both had been unmarried then.
The woman laughed. “Mother has been quite insistent I allow the marquess to court me, but I’m not interested in him.”
Lord Fairfax grunted. “My nerves would be better off if you would simply be biddable.”
She snorted in a quite unladylike manner, her actions so reminiscent of his sister’s, Rhys frowned.
“Mr. Tremayne has more than two hours to arrive, but I find I am reluctant to return to the crush. I believe I shall await his presence here in the gardens.”
Her brother snapped a reply Rhys missed. He allowed his footfall on the ridiculously soft grass to be heard, and her head snapped up. God’s blood. This close, her dark beauty had the impact of a fist to his gut. She had a small, pointed chin, finely arched eyebrows, and eyes as turquoise as a sunlit sea. They were fringed in thick ebony lashes. Her beauty was unequaled…and so was her wealth and stature.
For the first time he could remember in years, a sliver of uncertainty burrowed under his skin and lodged itself. Though so achingly young and lovely, she was a woman sure of her position and power in this world. It was evident in the regal manner in which she held herself.
He uncoiled from the shadows.
Arrogance and a certainty of her power settled on her like a second skin. The flush leeched from her face, the glint of youthful exuberance in her eyes replaced by icy civility. The transformation from a carefree young lady to a woman of power was unmistakable. And he was effortlessly captivated, despite the futility of being attracted to her.
She lifted her chin, displaying a long, graceful throat that was adorned with an emerald necklace, and arched an imperious brow. “Who the hell are you?”
…
Simon whirled around at Georgiana’s sharp demand as a shadow uncoiled itself from a few shrubberies.
“How refreshingly un-duchess-like,” the man drawled.
Georgiana flushed. He’d so startled her, she hadn’t minded her tongue one bit.
Instead of bowing, he tilted his dark head arrogantly to one side. “You summoned me.”
His accent slightly lacked the refinement a gentleman of society would possess, yet she liked the roughened cadence of his voice. Her eyes widened. He was early. His face was in the shadows beyond the pool of light cast by the candles and lanterns.
“Come into the light.”
He sauntered closer, his long stride faintly animallike in its grace.
His features were rough but brutally masculine and handsome, with eyes the gray-blue color of winter. A straight nose and sharp, arrogant cheekbones lent an air of aristocratic breeding. He was attractive in a dangerous, exciting way, simply because he appeared so improper, an anomaly in her well-ordered world.
But certainly, this could not be Mr. Tremayne. Her brother had said he’d been in the business of dealing secrets for twenty years. Perhaps the man had been audacious enough to send a business associate ahead? “Mr. Tremayne, I presume?”
His expression was faintly amused. Then his head barely dipped in acknowledgment. To measure the man, she assessed him quite thoroughly, and she felt something kick hard inside of her. Everything about Mr. Tremayne was unexpected. His features were so powerfully appealing she couldn’t help but stare…and stare some more. She belatedly realized he returned her intense scrutiny, and her cheeks grew hot under Mr. Tremyane’s slow, careful appraisal. Her brother cleared his throat, and Georgiana flushed in acute embarrassment. To be caught gawking as if she were a debutante.
“How old are you, Mr. Tremayne?” The question had to be asked, not once had she imagined someone so virile, young, and self-assured.
His dark, slashing brows arched at her imperious demand. “Thirty-three,” he said calmly.
For this man to have been in the business for twenty years as her brother suggested… Good heavens, he’d been mixing with criminal elements from the age of thirteen?
“Mr. Tremayne,” Simon interjected smoothly. “It was good of you to come at such short notice.”
“Lord Fairfax,” Mr. Tremayne responded with another of his barely there bows. “How may I be of assistance to you…” He faced her. “And Her Grace, I presume?”
Simon nodded, a chilling reserve cloaking his demeanor. “May I present my sister, the Duchess of Hardcastle.”
Mr. Tremayne canted his head left, and a crisp, cool smile was briefly bestowed upon her. “I was summoned, and here I am.”
“You are early,” she said flatly.
“Was that impolite?” he drawled, and from the mocking glint in his eyes, he very well knew how outrageous his actions were. She detected the powerful personality reined in below the surface.
“Shall we sit?” she said, waving toward the wrought-iron benches. “Or we could slip inside Lady Tunstall’s library if you would like some port or brandy before we begin.”
He moved with an easy strength and confidence as he ambled closer. His picture was one of nonchalance, yet she could detect the slight tension vibrating around him. Or perhaps she was fanciful.
“I would prefer to delve into business, Your Grace.”
“So be it then,” she murmured. “I have a missing servant, and I would like to find her whereabouts.”
“What did she steal?”
Georgiana frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
“What did she steal?” he repeated, enunciating with cutting precision.
“Nothing,” her brother interjected. “We simply require her address to ascertain her safety.”
Mr. Tremayne’s silver-blue eyes were ice, and she had the inexplicable understanding that this man had to be cleverly handled…without him knowing he was being handled.
“It has never been my experience before when requested by members of the aristocracy to search for a missing servant that it be for the sake of her safety. It has always been about missing candlesticks, precious gemstones, a secret baby,” he said with chilling incivility. “There is one thing I demand from everyone I do business with, and that is the absolute truth. In return, I conduct my business affairs with complete confidentiality.”
“Jane wasn’t just a servant, Mr. Tremayne. She was…is a valued member of our household who has taken care of my son for the better part of five years,” Georgiana said, underlining her tone with steel. “The truth is, five weeks ago, while playing with my son by the lake, she disappeared. Investigators from Bow Street and our local magistrate believe she ran away. There are no rumors to the contrary. In fact, there are no rumors, which I find very startling. Your peculiar brand of service was suggested by my brother,” she ended, with a wave toward Simon. “If you are not that man, I invite you to leave. If you can help, I urge you not to waste precious time by doubting my sincerity in locating Jane.”
Mr. Tremyane’s gaze held hers under a piercing regard. Was that admiration in his eyes? His lips curved in a semblance of a smile.
“Do you believe you can help, Mr. Tremayne?”
“Perhaps.”
She frowned. “I would like more clarity.”
He stood. “That I cannot offer you. I will need a few days to ascertain if I have something to trade.”
Her belly tightened. “I see.” She was distressingly confused. “A bit more information would be welcomed, Mr. Tremayne. I am eager to receive some good report on Jane’s whereabouts.”
“I will broker our term of payment based on results, Your Grace. I cannot determine yet what I will need in return for my information.”
She stared at him, quite appalled at his lack of tact and gallantry.
“Once I have credible news and I have assessed its worth…a deal will be brokered between us.”
She considered the man before her. “May I persuade you to accept money for your services? Perhaps five hundred guineas.” A more-than-modest sum, but nary a flicker of greed crossed Mr. Tremyane’s features. Though by the elegant manner in which he was garbed, she did not think he had want of money. His dark-blue superfine jacket was immaculately tailored, and his fawn-colored trousers were fitted to his frame in a manner that suggested they had been tailored by the finest craftsman.
“No.” It was a soft answer but firm with conviction.
A disquieting silence lingered as they took each other’s measure. It annoyed Georgiana that she wanted to fidget under that unwavering regard.
“When the information is assessed, all deals will be brokered with me,” Simon interjected smoothly.
“No.”
“That is nonnegotiable. After this initial meeting, all future correspondence will be with me,” her brother said, a cool warning vibrating in his tone.
Mr. Tremyane’s attention finally shifted to Simon. “Then my time has been wasted.” The dratted man turned and strolled toward the deeper interiors of the garden. The unexpectedness of his reaction had caution rolling down her spine in a chilly wave as she surmised he would only deal with her. Resigned irritation flared in Simon’s eyes, and he angled his chin toward the man’s retreating shoulders.
“Mr. Tremayne,” she said softly. “Our business has not been concluded.”
He paused and turned around. Those beautifully colored eyes considered her brother for a few moments. “I need a few minutes alone with my client. That is nonnegotiable if we are to proceed further.”
A dangerous thrill scythed through her heart. To even be alone for a few minutes with this man…
Simon stiffened, but before he could protest, she lightly touched his arm. “I’ll be quite fine, Simon. If you would wait for me by the balcony. I shall be there in a few minutes.”
Her brother visibly gritted his teeth before melting away into the darkness. She knew he would not go too far.
“I’m sure he’ll remain in shouting distance,” Mr. Tremayne drawled mockingly.
“You were listening.” Good heavens. How much did he hear? “Our conversation was private, sir.” Those piercing eyes settled on her, and she barely managed to subdue the flutters in her stomach. “Is there a reason you wanted a moment?”
“Is our business connection your desire? Or is it the earl’s?”
“I assure you, I am your client and not my brother. He was simply the bridge between our worlds.”
“I do not expect him to be at further meetings.”
Her heart thudded. “And why is that?” Though Simon had informed her of such, she wanted to hear the reason from this man.
His lips curved ever so slightly. “His presence will be an unnecessary interference. If you are afraid of being alone with me, you are already in over your head, duchess.”
The sheer arrogance he displayed was flummoxing. “I’m not afraid, though you are the most infamous man of my acquaintance,” she drawled and deliberately moved closer.
Surprising heat flared in his eyes, and he moved in to meet her advance. Georgiana refused to cave in and step back. Instead, she tilted her head up to meet his dark, unfathomable gaze. She was suddenly overwhelmed by an undeniable attraction. It was unimaginable, undreamed of, to have this awareness darting through her. I’m not cold…nor passionless.
His regard was slow and pointedly bold as he perused her body. He leaned close and spoke in a low voice. “You are an unbearably beautiful woman.”
Her heart began to hammer wildly, and her cheeks grew flushed. “And you are too forward, which can be expected if you have little experience with polite society. You will maintain the required civility while we do business, Mr. Tremayne.” Clearly, though he had the outward appearance of refinement, the man possessed no gentlemanlike qualities.
He smiled leisurely. “I am duly chastised, Your Grace.”
Except she did not believe him, for his perusal remained intent, unwavering. Georgiana swore her skin burned where his gaze had lingered.
“I’ll have news in a few days,” he said, and with a short bow he retreated, the darkness swallowing him.
Georgiana expelled a breath she hadn’t realized she held. There was a rustle behind her, and she whirled around to see her brother sauntering over.
“We’ve let the lion close, now we must guard ourselves and not allow him too much room to twist us into knots,” Simon said, staring in the direction Mr. Tremayne had vanished.
She was unable to refute his claims as unnecessary dramatics. The meeting had been brief but charged with tension and awareness she had never encountered before. “You’ve got the animal wrong,” she murmured and then wished she’d kept a tighter lid on her fanciful thoughts.
“What?”
Unwilling to appear flustered, she met Simon’s eyes. “I simply had the thought Mr. Tremayne was more of a jaguar, sleek and crafty, handsome, but unquestionably dangerous.”
The sheer shock that bloomed on her brother’s face pulled a light laugh from her. “Dear Simon, close your mouth.”
“Georgie,” he began warningly. “Mr. Tremayne is not a man—”
“Say no more, brother.” She touched his arms lightly. “I’ll be very careful in my business dealings with Mr. Tremayne.”
“And keep them in the realm of business,” Simon said, his eyes narrowed in warning.
She arched a brow. “But of course, what else could they possibly be? We do not belong to the same society. I cannot fathom why you would think it necessary to issue such a stern warning.”
But Georgiana knew… She had been unable to hide the interest the mysterious man stirred inside her. She was inexplicably filled with a longing that threatened to overwhelm her good sense. The cold nights, the lonely dreams, the one time they hadn’t haunted her waking thoughts was just now.
Mr. Rhys Tremayne was dangerous.