“Have a care,” said Osborne. “I know from personal experience the dangers that you face. Pretend to be an easy mark, but don’t be sucked into their crimes. If you pretend to be something long enough, the lines blur between pretense and truth. Don’t swallow enough darkness that the light of honor is extinguished forever.”
“I don’t need your warnings. I’ve already sunk lower than you’ll ever go.”
“I doubt that,” said Osborne quietly. The dangerous look on his handsome but battered face made Dane believe him.
“I’ll do some discreet inquiring about a connection between your brother and the Order,” Patrick said.
“And I’ll speak to your brother’s compatriots in Parliament. Don’t quite know how it happened, but I’m known as a reformed scoundrel now. I walk in elevated circles.”
“You know very well how it happened,” his brother laughed. “You were reformed by Thea.”
“Ah, she does allow me to continue my work, but she makes me promise to leave the fisticuffs to younger men. My shoulder’s still creaky from too many fights.”
“And my face has seen better days since the war,” Warburton said. “What about you, Patrick? Do you have a wife?”
“Papa?” A young boy with mussed reddish-brown hair ran into the study.
“Van!” Patrick embraced him. “Did you escape your governess again?”
“I saw the curricle outside, and I want a closer look. It’s such a beauty. Is it yours, sir?” he asked Warburton.
“It’s mine,” Dane said with a smile.
“Will you take me for a ride in your curricle? How fast does it go?”
“Lord Dane’s too busy, I’m afraid,” Patrick said.
“Some other time,” Dane promised.
“When I grow up, I’m going to have the fastest curricle in London. Flor says she’ll keep a fast carriage and ride astride, but I told her that’s ridiculous. Ladies can’t ride astride.”
Patrick ruffled his son’s hair. “Go back to your studies, Van. We’ll go for a walk in the parklater.” The boy left, dragging his feet and casting glances back at the men.
“Bright child. His mother must be very proud.”
“His mother passed away.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I keep trying to convince him to remarry, but he hasn’t found any English roses to his satisfaction,” said Osborne.
“Do you know where the Order of the Scorpion meets?” Dane asked. “Perhaps I can pretend to be interested in joining them?”
“I don’t advise such a rash tactic,” said Osborne. “They’re far too secretive and powerful. Better for us to discover the identity of the man who was asking about you at Madam Avalon’s salon. That’s the first place I’d start. Go back there, ask the footmen, ask everyone if they know him or his name.”
Dane nodded. “I’ll go there right now. Though, I should change into evening wear first.”
Within an hour he was freshly shaved, garbed, and ready to take matters into his own hands at the Silver Palace. This was much better. Instead of waiting for them to contact him, to manipulate him to their own ends, he was lying in wait for one of them.
“Do you have a guest list for tonight’s ball?” he asked Madam Avalon.
“Of course. But sometimes I allow uninvited guests to attend. That’s why I keep such a healthy contingent of strong footmen here. I don’t want anything unwanted happeningto any lady. I try to screen each guest personally, but sometimes the odd stranger does slip through. And then there are the young debutantes who do sometimes dare each other to sneak in during a masked ball for a little thrill. I keep a very special watch on those and make sure they go home early with their reputations unscathed.”
Dane smiled at the notion. Never in a million years would he see Sandrine at a place like this. She was safe at home with Mrs. McGovern and Miss Hodwell. Probably wearing a high-necked virginal white nightgown.
She’d already knelt to say her prayers and she was tucked into her bed, dreaming about the innocent things that good girls dreamed of... rainbows and unicorns and valiant, honorable knights on chargers.
Chapter Fifteen