Meet Me at Midnight Read Online Free Page B

or something.”
    “Sounds safe enough.”
    Sinclair eyed him. “I’d like to think I’m not completely incompetent. And your ten quid is on the way to London, since you asked.”
    The valet sobered. “Bates didn’t find anything?”
    “No. I didn’t expect him to, but one can always hope, I suppose. Wally and Crispin are meeting up with him. We’ll regroup here. They’re letting a house on Weigh House Street. Or Lady Stanton is, rather.”
    He handed the missive to the valet, who scanned through it much as Sinclair had.
    “Well, I’m glad Crispin’s coming, anyway,” Roman said. “Maybe he can talk some sense into you before you do end up married.”
    “I’m the Marquis of Althorpe now. I will need to marry eventually, if only for Thomas’s sake.” Andwhatever he decided, the thought of having Vixen Fontaine in his bed was considerably arousing. Given Marley’s taste in females, he’d expected a hoyden—not a goddess. Those long, curling eyelashes…
    “I know, I know. But everyone in London thinks you’re…you know… him . And him shouldn’t be taking a bride—not even a wild one like the Vixen.”
    With a snort, Sinclair recaptured the letter and crumpled it, tossing it into the dying embers of the fireplace. “I am him, and there isn’t going to be a marriage right now. Don’t complicate things.”
    The valet folded his arms across his chest and glowered. “You’re the one complicating things, Sin. You can’t even live in your own house without the servants thinking you’re—”
    Sinclair glared back at him. “For the last time, Roman, I am him. Nothing has changed since France or Prussia or Italy except the target du jour . Stop making me defend my poor character.”
    “But that is not—”
    “Leave be.”
    “All right, my lord.” Roman grabbed up the shaving bowl and dumped the contents into the chamber pot. “If you want everyone to think you’re a blasted blackguard instead of a hero, and you want to marry an earl’s high-flying daughter to keep your disguise, that’s your affair. If—”
    Sin pushed to his feet. “I am here to find my brother’s murderer, Roman. The damned Crown may have kept me lurking about the Continent for the past five years, but Bonaparte’s finished now, and so am I. I will keep the disguise, though, for as long as it serves me. Is that clear?”
    The valet heaved a breath. “Clear as glass.”
    “Good.” Sinclair favored him with a slight grin. “And don’t go about calling me a hero. You’ll ruin everything.”
    Roman folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I’d hate to do that now, wouldn’t I?”
     
    “You cannot be serious!”
    “I have never been more serious, Victoria.” The Earl of Stiveton paced around and around the couch in the middle of the library, his footsteps so heavy that they rattled the glass doors of the display cabinet at the far end of the room. “How many escapades were we supposed to overlook? How much outrageous behavior did you think we could ignore?”
    “More than this.”
    “Victoria!”
    Victoria lay supine on the couch, one arm flung across her brow in her best dramatic pose of helpless vulnerability. “It was just a stupid kiss! For heaven’s sake, Father.”
    “You kissed Sinclair Grafton in a completely…intimate manner. You let him put his hands all over you. In public . I cannot—I will not—tolerate this any longer.”
    Hmm, she’d used the same vulnerable pose last week. It hadn’t worked then, either, and she’d ended up housebound for three long days. Victoria sat up. “So you’re making me marry him? That seems a bit severe. I’ve kissed other men, and you haven’t—”
    “Enough!” Stiveton clapped his hands over his ears. “You shouldn’t have kissed anyone. But this time, Victoria, you were caught—in the arms of a complete scapegrace, and in the presence of a crowd.”
    “An exceptionally stodgy crowd.”
    “Victoria!”
    “But—”
    “No more explanations,