Dangerous Loves Romantic Suspense Collection by Dorothy McFalls Page A

why you’d feel offended by her presence.” He led her to the far end of the hall and lowered his voice. “But then if Lady Mercer knew of the secret liaisons you and a certain married duke, a married duke who has openly sworn his devotion to his lovely wife, have been carrying on for nigh three years now, she might feel just as offended to be included on the same guest list as you.”
    Lady Dashborough sucked in a great deal of air. “I have never broadcast that relationship. There is no scandal.”
    “No?” he said smoothly. “No, I suppose not. At least, there won’t be one as long as a certain influential wife of a certain duke remains ignorant.”
    “Are you threatening me, Edgeware?”
    Nigel loathed both threats and confrontations. But since the success of the week depended on the guests actually staying for the house party, he was forced to play the clever bastard.
    “Yes, my lady, I believe I am.”
    George had been right. His friend had spent the previous week gathering all sorts of nasty bits of information against the invited guests from a variety of underworld sources. Nigel had protested but was now glad George hadn’t listened.
    “Shall I have Lady Waver show you and your daughters to the guest chambers I’ve selected specifically for you?”
    Lady Dashborough smiled through tight lips and her voice sounded strained. “Yes, my lord, that would please me.”
    He gave a deep bow. “Until this evening then, my lady.”
    The first crisis of many, no doubt, had been quite smoothly handled. Satisfied, he turned his mind to Elsbeth. Lady Dashborough was not the type of woman to keep her dislikes silent. If she and the Baneshire family had arrived at the estate at the same time, he could only suppose that Elsbeth was upstairs licking her wounds and planning her escape.
    He stopped a footman who was descending the grand stairs. “Is Lady Mercer settled in the chamber I’ve selected for her?” he asked, thinking to invite her and her cousins into the red parlor to take an early tea. Women often required extra attention and reassurances when faced with a difficult situation. He doubted Elsbeth was any different.
    “No, my lord,” the footman said.
    “She is not?” Had she run off so quickly?
    “Lady Mercer had asked for directions to the gardens. I showed her the way myself, my lord. And then a few minutes later, I showed Lady Olivia the same path.”
    “Very good,” he said, and raced back down the stairs and out the back door into the estate’s private gardens.
    The soft scent of daffodils greeted him. Beyond the yew hedges, he heard the whisper of voices and the rustle of skirts. Steeling himself for the worst—namely, a river of tears—he straightened his coat and began a brave march forward.
    “Ho there!” George’s voice carried across a grassy field.
    Nigel waited for George to trot across the field. “What detective work have you been pursuing today?” he asked.
    “Me?” George shrugged. “Nothing, really. Just a brisk trot around the grounds.”
    “Looking for evidence, perhaps?” Nigel pulled out the scrap of material he’d found in the woods and handed it to George. “Something like this?”
    George studied the woolen fabric.
    “I believe someone was stalking in the woods, watching me. He eluded me when I went in pursuit but not without tearing his cloak.”
    “Strange,” George said, giving the cloth even more attention. “I spoke to Charlie on the wooded path between our houses a few minutes ago. He arrived this morning with three young friends. They are looking to invade your house party.”
    “Charlie?” He was surprised to hear that his cousin, the younger Charles Purbeck, would leave the excitement of the London Season for what promised to be a staid country gathering.
    “He’s set up at the dowager cottage.”
    “Fine. I’ll send a footman to invite him and his friends to dinner. The younger women will be grateful for the company of men closer to their