“It’s him. But I won’t act unless provoked. I’d be happy to leave well enough alone, but for this feeling that I’m being followed. I take umbrage at being drawn into Buchanan’s criminal world. If the ruffian lurking in the square has anything to do with Buchanan, I won’t hesitate.” He cursed. “I refuse to place Maddie in any more danger.”
“Send me a note. I’ll bring a couple of sturdy footmen to help.”
“Good of you, Tate.” He chuckled. “I can’t imagine the young men in livery taking on the smugglers. But I appreciate the offer. I hope not to need it. Shall we go into dinner? Freddie said the salmon is excellent.”
Tate rose. “What do you fancy after dinner? Faro?”
“Sounds good.” Hart tightened his jaw, furious at the thought of thieves threatening his peace again. “Tomorrow, I’ll visit Jackson’s rooms in Bond Street. I fancy a bout.”
Tate laughed. “In this murderous frame of mind, I wouldn’t advise it. You might do some damage, and not to yourself.”
“Then I’ll settle for Manton’s, and some pistol practice.” He joked, but the possibility of being followed worried him. He had not missed the look Buchanan gave him, staring back at Hart before walking away. In that moment, Wakeham’s trembling complaint before he died came back to him:you can blame Montford.
Buchanan’s ice-gray eyes were as chilling as his voice. Hart didn’t trust his sort not to go after a man’s family to knock the fight out of him. He wondered if he could persuade Maddie to go to Pembury without him. While the lord was here in London, so would Hart be, until they arrested Buchanan. It was only a matter of time before Fleming brought him in. But before the magistrate could accuse a peer, he’d need to produce some sound evidence. Buchanan would engage the best firm of solicitors in town. Hart wondered if the ruffian who broke into Lilybrook cottage, who he’d thrown in jail, survived Wakeham’s attempt to silence him. If so, he might make a credible witness.
Seated in the busy dining room, Hart studied the menu, his thoughts on Maddie. Persuading her to leave London during the Season would be difficult. She wouldn’t want to go to the country without him.
*
The night atthe Tivoli had been entertaining, although the noisy audience below in the pit shouted over the actor’s lines. When the final curtain went down, Ianthe, not only beautiful but gracious, ordered her carriage to drive them home.
It was still relatively early when Maddie and Diane took coffee in the salon.
Maddie smiled. “Fancy, Lord Peter Wallace appearing tonight.”
“We would not have seen him, but for Ianthe inviting him into her box,” Diane said airily.
But her attempt to dissuade Maddie from this conversation failed. “Peter seemed delighted, didn’t he? Surprising when his box had a better view of the stage. I daresay he enjoyed our company.”
“Stop fishing, Maddie,” Diane said, but her lips curled up in a reluctant smile.
“Very well, my dear. But you must know Lord Peter is smitten.”
Diane flushed. “I wouldn’t go so far as that.”
“I would.” Maddie studied her sister-in-law. “You like him too, don’t you?”
“I…I don’t know. Yes, I like him, but what is that? I am hardly a debutante. And I have children.”
“Isn’t he aware of your children?”
“Yes, but still…”
“You are hardly in your dotage, Diane. You’re a very attractive woman, not yet thirty. Quite a prize. And I think Lord Peter knows it.”
Diane laughed. “A prize? You have a way with words, Maddie.”
“Just promise me you won’t dismiss him out of hand. Of course, you need time to get to know him, but please, give this a chance.”
Diane held up a hand. “I cannot argue with you, Maddie. I promise, if he continues to show an interest in me, I’ll endeavor to learn more about him and see if we suit one another.”
A little too cold-blooded for Maddie, but a beginning of sorts. She nodded her head approvingly. “You can begin on Saturday.”
“Saturday? Aren’t we to attend a ball?”
“Yes. But I have invited him to dine before the ball.”
Diane widened her eyes. “When did you do that?”