Lord Libertine. Gail Ranstrom

to introduce her companions, he asked just to annoy her. She really was lovely when she had her ire up. Ah, and there it was, the deepening flush tinting her cheeks with indignation.

      “No!” She paused and took a deep breath. “I mean, thank you, but no. It is not far and we would not want to interrupt your ride.”

      He’d almost forgotten the horses. “Perhaps we shall meet again,” he said. “Soon.”

      Her eyes widened and she glanced at her companions once more, then pushed them ahead of her with a hand on the small of the younger girl’s back.

      They watched the ladies’ departure, appreciating the sway of their skirts as they hustled away.

      Dash was the first to speak, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as he glanced skyward. “I say! Is it snowing? I feel a decided chill.”

      “Gads!” Charlie glanced at their departing backs and then at Drew. “She appears not to like you much.’ Tis one thing to cut you, and another to cut the rest of us.”

      Jamie chuckled. “There you have it—the very reason we should learn manners, Charlie. We never want a beautiful woman finding us unworthy of a common introduction. Or judging our companions by our own bad behavior.”

      Despite their words, Andrew’s companions burst out laughing at his discomfort. Bella would pay for this. Oh, so sweetly.

      Dash glanced between Bella’s stiff back and Andrew’s own bemusement. “What did you do to her, Drew?”

      “Nothing,” he said. “Yet.”

      Chapter Five

      Bella tightened the laces at the top of her chemise and tucked the strings into her bodice. “Keeping Mama and Lilly occupied is more important than you can know, Gina. But if there is ever anything I cannot handle alone, I swear I shall enlist you. I swear it.”

      Gina frowned, suspicion narrowing her eyes. “See that you do, or I shall take matters into my own hands.”

      “Just what do you think I am keeping from you?” She smoothed the fabric of her gown over her hips.

      “Many things, Bella. For instance, who was that man today? The one you addressed as Mr. Hunter, who attempted the introductions? Surely you have not forgotten such a handsome man?”

      How much could she tell her sister without inciting her horror? “How could I introduce you without giving myself away to Lilly? And no one knows me by my name.”

      “Really?” Gina tilted her head to one side. “What do they call you, then?”

      “Lady Lace.” She tried not to notice Gina’s giggling as she stuffed a handkerchief in her reticule. “And I am not altogether certain Mr. Hunter is the sort of man one ought to introduce to one’s sisters.”

      “I gathered as much,” Gina said. “But I think I would not care. He is far too handsome. And the others, as well.”

      The slightly stubborn jut to Gina’s chin warned her that her sister would need better answers. Which of the Hunter brothers did she have her eye on? Or was it Lord Humphries? She supposed it did not matter—any of them could break her heart.

      “Why are you hiding your name, Bella? I thought you did not give a whit for your reputation now that Cora is dead.”

      “I do not care in the least, but I thought it better if no one knew where to find me. The last thing I want is for Mama to get word of what I’m doing. How ghastly it would be to have some man turn up on our doorstep asking for an audience.”

      Gina sank onto the bed in feigned distress. “Oh! That would be dreadful, indeed. Awful even under the best circumstances. Mama is enough to frighten all but the most ardent suitors away.”

      She smiled at Gina’s teasing. “And anyway, Gina, when we return to Belfast and our mourning ends, there is still a chance that you and Lilly will find husbands among the gentry.”

      “You, too, Bella.”

      “That is quite impossible. My face is now known in London. How could I tell my future husband that he could never take me beyond Belfast lest I be recognized as a…a…” She shrugged and gave a self-deprecating laugh as she pinched her cheeks to bring her color up. “I am not blameless. I have now kissed more men than any collective dozen of my friends.”

      “As to that, Bella, was Mr. Hunter—the one who spoke to you—one of the men you kissed?”

      Heat crept into her cheeks and she busied herself with fastening a jet necklace around her throat. “Really, Gina! I do not see what difference that would make.”

      “Well, if you are not keeping track, someone should.”

      “Yes, then. Which is all the more reason I wish to keep you and Lilly away.”

      “Was he that dreadful?”

      No! Lord, no. In point of fact, he’d been the best of the lot. “I fear that he would think you and Lilly are likewise…loose. He could have reason enough to believe that, since we were together. Would you really want to defend yourself against an ardent swain?”

      “Yes, if he looked like Lord Humphries or any of the Hunter brothers. I am assuming, of course, that you have cleared them of any suspicion of having killed our Cora.”

      “I, ah, of that group, I have only kissed Mr. Andrew Hunter.”

      “And you have acquitted him?”

      “Not entirely.”

      Gina tilted her head to one side. “Not entirely? But how is that possible?”

      “I…it was rather sudden and he turned away immediately afterward, so I fear I must do it again before I can eliminate him.”

      The corners of Gina’s mouth twitched. “Ah. I see. Well, yes. I suppose you must. And then move on to the other Hunter brothers? And Lord Humphries?”

      “Eventually,” she admitted. “If I do not find the murderer first.”

      “But tonight?”

      She swept up her cloak and turned toward the door. “Tonight I am not likely to see them. Remember, I am going where scoundrels and rakes go.”

      Andrew leaned over Charlie’s shoulder. “Seen enough?”

      “We’ve only just begun. Do you suppose it is all like this?”

      “I haven’t a single notion, Charlie. This is my first visit, as well.” When they had arrived at Bethlehem Hospital and paid the keeper for entry, Andrew hadn’t known what to expect, though he gathered he would not find it entertaining. Thus far he’d been right.

      They’d been led past cells where unfortunates were either cowering in corners or reciting nonsensical words in singsong voices. Here a man played in his own filth, and there a woman exposed her breasts and cackled. Yet another man screamed and shouted curses, pounding the door separating patients from visitors. And everywhere the odor of unwashed bodies and rancid food assailed them.

      The keeper, their guide, told stories of how this one had been abandoned by a lover, or that one had lost his entire family in a fire and had fallen into deep melancholy. But how, Andrew wondered again, could such misery be entertaining? Was it all just a matter of taste?

      As much as he wanted to leave, he also wanted to find out what purpose Dash had for this outing, because it was not like his friend to arrange something like this without a reason.

      Charlie shrugged and echoed Andrew’s own thoughts. “I cannot see the purpose of this, Drew. It tickles none of my senses. I am not amused, entertained, titillated or curious. Surely there’s more?”

      “Observation of human nature, I believe Dash said,” Andrew whispered.

      “An’now, gents, ’ere we are at the commons, or the gallery