Home > Never Judge a Lady by Her Cover (The Rules of Scoundrels #4)(96)

Never Judge a Lady by Her Cover (The Rules of Scoundrels #4)(96)
Author: Sarah MacLean

He leaned back. “You have discovered my dark secret.”

“I am certain there are darker ones.”

The smile was back, cold and grotesque. “No doubt.”

She released a sigh. “Lord Tremley, now it is you wasting our time. What precisely do you wish?”

He raised his brows. “I want Chase’s identity.”

She laughed. “I think it is amusing that you think I would ever dream of giving that to you.”

He smirked. “Oh, I think you will give me precisely that for which I ask, because I am prepared to take from you something that you hold very dear.”

“I cannot imagine what it is you think that might be.”

He leaned in again. “I am told that you and Duncan West have an arrangement.” She did nothing to acknowledge the words, her heart pounding at Tremley’s mention of Duncan. Were they friends or foes?

“At first, I thought it was the way things are here at The Fallen Angel. He’s handsome, rich, and powerful – a tremendous catch if you like the common man.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “These days, I prefer them to aristocrats.”

He laughed, the sound cold and unsettling. “Clever girl. Smart mouth.”

Her lips twisted in a smile. “My time, my lord. You consume it.”

“But you’ll want to hear this bit,” he said casually, pulling out a chair and sitting, leaning back, enjoying holding court over them all. “At any rate, I thought you were simply a plaything for him. But then I spoke to him. And he seemed rather… committed to you. It was all very chivalrous.”

She wanted to believe it. But there was a connection between these men – one she did not understand. One she did not trust.

Tremley went on. “Not being a member, how was I to know that you did not whore yourself out to the highest bidder?”

Bruno and Asriel stiffened behind her, but she did not look to them. “What are you trying to say?”

The earl waved a hand. “I hear that you and West have an arrangement. You were seen together here, apparently caught in a scandalous act by the Duke of Lamont. You were seen in an unmarked carriage at his office, and again at his home. I was told you appeared significantly more… used, shall we say? On the way out than on the way in.”

Her heart began to pound.

“And he was quite put out when I referred to you by your profession instead of your name.” He paused. “Though, to be honest, I’m not certain I’ve ever heard your name in full. You’re usually simply referred to as Chase’s whore. But now you’re West’s whore. So… there is that.”

She’d heard the word a hundred times over the years, as she rollicked and reigned over the club floor. A thousand but now, here, tonight, it stung in ways she had never imagined it could.

Somehow, in all of this, she had become the mask. She’d become Anna. She would give herself to Langley for the most obvious of reasons. For the title. And she would resist giving herself to West, because he could not pay her price.

But it did not make her care for him less.

“I will ask you one more time. What is it you are attempting to say?”

“This is the bit where it would be better to speak without your sentry,” he said. “Because it’s the part where I convince you to betray your employer.”

“As it will never happen, there is no need for them to leave.”

His brows rose in surprise at the insolence in her tone. “You give me Chase’s name and I will leave this place and never return. Consider it collateral against any… future engagement.”

“We keep your secrets, you keep ours.”

He grinned. “What they say is true, you are not just a pretty face.”

She did not return the expression. “You, sadly, appear to only have a pretty face, Lord Tremley. You see, the arrangement you suggest only works if both parties have information the other wants protected.” She leaned forward and spoke to him as though he was a child. “We have your secrets. You don’t have ours.”

“No, but I have West’s.”

She stilled. “Mr. West is no longer a member. We have no need for his secrets.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “I am not a member, and you took information on me. Besides, even if Chase does not want these secrets, you will. They are legion.”

She met his gaze. “I do not believe you.”

If West’s secrets were big enough to be worth a trade for Chase’s identity, she would know them already. He would have told her, wouldn’t he?

As she had told her secrets?

She met Tremley’s gaze, saw the humor there, as though he read her thoughts. “There is my proof,” he crowed. “You care for him. You care for him, and he hasn’t told you, has he?” His tone turned falsely sympathetic. “Poor girl.”

She feigned disinterest, ignoring his words. “If he had secrets worth knowing, the club would know them.”

He met her gaze. “Shall I tell you? Would you like to know who your love is? Really?”

She ignored the questions, the way they baited her.

The way they made her want to scream, Yes.

He leaned forward and whispered, “I shall give you a hint. He’s a criminal.”

Her gaze flew to his. “We are all criminals in one way or another.”

He smiled. “Yes, but you have no illusions about me.” He stood. “I think you should ask him yourself. Ask him about Suffolk. Ask him about the grey stallion. Ask him about the girl he kidnapped.” He paused. “Ask him his real name. Ask him about the boy from whom he stole it.”

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