LITMIR.BIZ

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filling in behind her to prevent her assailant from following.

      Giving a silent prayer at her escape, Brianna did not allow her pace to slow as she entered the carpeted hallway and hurried toward the card room.

      CHAPTER THREE

      STANDING IN THE SMOKY CARD room, Edmond struggled to contain his impatience.

      Predictably, it had not been an easy task to convince his stubborn brother that he truly was in danger. For all Stefan’s intelligence, he was remarkably reluctant to accept that anyone could possibly seek his demise, especially not his own cousin.

      Then, of course, there had been the battle over Edmond assuming Stefan’s identity so he could lure the danger to London and away from Meadowland, hopefully flushing the villain into the open. It did not matter how many times Edmond explained that he was far more skilled to discover the truth behind the attacks and that he alone could turn the hunter into the hunted.

      Finally, Edmond had been forced to point out that Stefan’s stubbornness might very well be endangering the staff and tenants of Meadowland, explaining that a man willing to murder a duke would not hesitate to kill a mere commoner standing in his way. It was only then that Stefan had given in to the inevitable.

      Still, it was a full fortnight before Edmond was at last able to leave Meadowland in the disguise of his brother and arrive at Stefan’s town house in London. And another week before he could replace Stefan’s loyal staff with his own servants. If he were to be bait for a determined killer, he intended to surround himself with those trained to protect him.

      It had not taken much effort to track Howard Summerville. All he needed was to discover the most lewd, offensive event on the calendar, Lord Blackwell’s Courtesan Ball.

      He had not been disappointed. Within moments he had located Howard in the back card rooms. Now all he needed was his cousin to notice his looming form standing directly in his path.

      Over the past twenty minutes, he had walked past the stupid man’s seat at the table on a dozen occasions, expecting to be recognized. After all, there were few in society that could claim the height of Edmond and his brother, and none other who wore the crest of Huntley stamped on a gold signet ring.

      Everyone else in the smoke-choked room had instantly bowed in his direction, covertly giving way as was only fitting for a duke when he approached them.

      Just when Edmond was convinced he would have to give in to his impulse and drag the man away from the table by the scruff of his neck, Howard tossed in his cards, signed his large stack of vowels and unsteadily rose to his feet.

      It would be far preferable for the meeting to appear as nothing more than a chance encounter. The last thing Edmond desired was to tip his hand to his cousin. Howard Summerville was debauched, depraved and detestable, but he wasn’t a halfwit. He was going to be curious enough that the reclusive Duke of Huntley was seemingly tossing himself into the wicked pleasures of London without adding fuel to the fire.

      Weaving his way toward the door, the slender, dark-haired man with a swarthy complexion, small black eyes and pinched countenance nearly rammed into Edmond before he came to a belated halt.

      Squinting upward, the red-rimmed eyes took a long moment to focus. At last they widened as Howard sucked in a shocked breath.

      “Good Lord, is that you Huntley?”

      Edmond gave a stiff nod of his head, as if the meeting were an unpleasant surprise. It was how Stefan would react.

      “Howard.”

      “Whatever are you doing here?” the older gentleman demanded, shoving a hand through his tangled black hair. He looked ghastly. Having dispensed with his mask and domino, his unhealthy pallor was starkly visible, emphasizing the sunken hollows beneath his eyes. Even his expensively tailored evening suit was as creased as if he had been wearing it for days. “Hardly the place for a grand peer of the realm.”

      Edmond bit back his acerbic words. For the moment, he was supposed to be the Duke of Huntley, and Stefan would never allow his ducal composure to slip, even if it did become a bit frosty when he was displeased.

      “I would say that there are several peers of the realm in attendance,” he said, deliberately glancing toward the two Earls and a Baron currently seated at the tables.

      “Oh, yes, well, I suppose there are,” Howard muttered, sullenly. “Still, I have never known you to partake of the more delicious enticements that London has to offer. Come to think of it, I have never known you to partake of any enticements.”

      “Which is precisely why I am here.”

      “What does that mean?”

      “Edmond returned to Meadowland for a short visit and demanded that I travel to London and take in the pleasures while he attended to the estate duties. He was quite insistent that I was becoming too dull to bear, and when Edmond has set his mind on a course, there is no budging him.”

      “I can bloody well imagine. That brother of yours is a menace. Damnation, last time we crossed paths, he attacked me. Russia is the proper place for that one—his heart is as cold as Siberia. Of course, now that I think on the matter, your brother was quite right to send you to the city, Huntley. I have always said that you work far too hard. A bit of enjoyment is what you need. I’ve told Mrs. Summerville that on a dozen occasions.”

      “Have you?”

      “Yes, indeed.” Howard stretched his lips in a ghastly smile. “And now that you are here, I realize that it is quite a stroke of fortune. Almost uncanny.”

      Edmond folded his arms over his chest, already knowing what was coming next.

      “And what is this stroke of fortune?”

      “Well, I did attempt to call upon you at Meadowland. On several occasions, as a matter of fact, although that bastard of a butler would not so much as allow me to step across the threshold.”

      “Indeed.”

      “Yes.” He gave an awkward pause at Edmond’s distinctly unenthusiastic tone. “I…it seems that I have had a bit of trouble with those nasty creditors of late.”

      “Has there ever been a time when you did not have trouble with creditors?”

      “Trifling matters.” Howard tugged at his drooping cravat. “On this occasion, however, I fear that I am quite undone. Indeed, I have been contemplating a flight to the Continent if my situation does not improve.”

      Edmond’s expression remained coolly indifferent even as his muscles coiled with tension. That Howard was in dun territory was as predictable as the sun rising. Clearly this time, however, he was desperate.

      “And yet, here you are squandering your non-existent funds on cards and whores,” Edmond accused, knowing it was what his brother would say.

      “I had hoped to recoup some of my losses at the table.”

      “Ah, of course. That is always a sound notion.”

      Ignoring the mocking words, Howard plunged onward. “If you could just see your way to lending me a bit of assistance…”

      “Let me make certain that I am not misunderstanding you, cousin. Are you asking for money?”

      “Just enough to cover my most pressing expenses.”

      “Tell me, Howard, just how deep are your debts?”

      Hope flared through the dark eyes before it was abruptly replaced by a wary suspicion. Not even the kindhearted Stefan was willing to fund this worthless gentleman, knowing he would simply toss the money away in the nearest gambling den.

      “Why do you wish to know?”

      Realizing that he had very nearly overplayed his hand, Edmond cast a bored glance around the room.

      “It is nothing more than idle curiosity.”

      Howard heaved a

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