The Wedding Escape by Karyn Monk

against his seat. He could hardly leave Amelia alone at Haydon and Genevieve’s home. But he couldn’t hang about London looking after her, and he certainly couldn’t take her back to Scotland with him. Reluctant reason began to temper his disgust with Philmore.
    â€œFine. I’ll meet Philmore and tell him Amelia is in London, and I’ll arrange for him to see her. But he mustn’t know who I am. I can’t risk having him or someone else track her back to Haydon and Genevieve’s house. No one must know where she is staying.”
    â€œSurely ye dinna think Philmore would betray her?”
    â€œThere is a ten-thousand-pound reward being offered for information leading to her discovery. While Philmore won’t care about that now that he has another heiress to support him, he might let it slip that I know where she is to someone who finds her reward tempting. I can’t take that chance. Also, I don’t want Haydon or Genevieve associated in any way with Amelia’s disappearance.”
    â€œSo it’s a disguise ye’re needin’, is it?”
    Jack nodded. “Philmore is due to arrive shortly for lunch, which gives us a couple of hours to prepare. Do you think that is enough time?”
    The old man’s mouth split into a grin. “I’ve just the place, lad.”
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    H E KNOWS.” LORD FARNHAM NERVOUSLY TWISTED the tip of his beard. “We have to call it off.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œFor God’s sake, Spalding, are you mad?” Farnham’s gaze darted anxiously around the dining room before he hissed fiercely,
“He knows.”
    â€œKent doesn’t know a goddamn thing.”
    Lord Spalding paused as a footman filled his wineglass, moodily contemplating Jack’s unexpected arrival at the club. Spalding had been startled to see him, but quickly decided Kent was merely there to assure the members that all was well with his precious shipping company.
    Appearances, as Spalding understood only too well, were half the battle.
    â€œHe may be suspicious, but he doesn’t know anything for certain,” Spalding continued once the servant was gone. “The plan goes ahead as scheduled.” He sawed vigorously at a thick slab of gray beef.
    â€œAt least call off tonight—let’s wait until he has left London,” urged Lord Farnham.
    â€œIf we wait for him to leave, we may lose our chance to strike. I won’t do that. This is a war, Farnham, and in war you have to hit your enemy hard and fast, again and again, until he is destroyed.” Spalding shoveled a forkful of fatty meat into his mouth, then cringed. Why the hell did that bloody French chef cook beef until it had the taste and texture of boot leather?
    â€œIt doesn’t seem that we’re having any effect,” objected Lord Farnham, shifting restlessly in his chair. “We’re taking enormous risks, yet North Star Shipping continues to do well.”
    â€œOf course Kent claims it is doing well—he doesn’t want anyone to know how badly his company has been hit,” Spalding countered impatiently. “The fact is he has already lost several contracts, and he cannot afford to lose any more. If word of that gets out, his investors will become nervous.” He swallowed a mouthful of wine before finishing darkly, “After tonight, the filthy little upstart will have difficulty convincing anyone that their goods are safe on one of his goddamn tramp ships.”
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    B RILLIANT GARLANDS OF MELON AND COPPER SUN- light flickered upon the stone façade of the Marbury Club as Jack and Oliver sat sweating within the dark heat of the carriage.
    â€œBy the toes of Saint Andrew, if he doesna come out soon, I swear I’m marchin’ in there and draggin’ him out myself,” grumbled Oliver, shifting against his seat. “How long does it take a man to eat?”
    â€œI imagine he is celebrating his newfound fortune