“So far I cannot argue against you,” Edmund said drily.
Clara stiffened again, he was quick to ridicule her, and she was not used to such open mocking. “I may have been foolish, but it is ungentlemanly to point it out!” she snapped. Her nerves were stretched to their limit; she did not need his antagonism.
“You uttered the words not I, and I never claimed to be a gentleman; you’ve presumed quite a lot, madam,” Edmund said with a small smile.
“You agreed with me, which was bad enough!” Clara said with annoyance. “I admit I was wrong; I should have never come here at all.”
“That is the first sensible thing you have uttered,” Edmund said. “So why
did
you come?”
Clara sighed again her anger fading. “I need to find my brother. I believe he’s here.”
“And will he appreciate his sister trying to find him?” Edmund drawled, his eyebrows rising in astonishment.
Clara smiled despite the situation. “Definitely not, but I had to do something! Since he has fallen into the company of that rogue, Joshua Shambles, he has not been the same person. He’s spending so much money on their dissipated lifestyles that it terrifies me,” Clara admitted.
Edmund’s ears had pricked at the mention of Joshua Shambles. “Who is your brother?” he demanded.
Clara paused; the moment she mentioned who Charles was, her identity would be known as well, but there was nothing else she could do. In some peculiar way, she trusted the man seated opposite her, but this was a huge step to take. She sighed. It was no use. She needed help to find Charles; she would have to take the risk.
“My brother is Charles Baker, Baron Glazebrook,” she said finally.
“He’s your younger brother?” Edmund asked. He did not know the Baron personally, although he had seen him at entertainments a time or two. He seemed to recall the name. The gossip that followed him had mentioned he was not yet reached his majority but had come into his fortune.
“Yes, he’s inherited money at far too early an age and has fallen into a friendship of sorts with Mr Shambles. I curse the day they met,” Clara said with feeling.
It was not unusual for rich, young men to be parted from their fortunes, but Joshua Shambles was of interest to Edmund. He had not noticed his arrival, which meant he had been in attendance since the doors opened. Edmund quietly cursed his own late arrival; he had been watching for a man who was already on the premises. “You can’t persuade your brother to go and rusticate at his estate? It’s on the south coast isn’t it?”
Clara smiled a rueful smile. “If you were eighteen and had inherited your fortune three years earlier than you should have, would you agree to rusticate at the suggestion of your older sister?” she asked.
Edmund smiled a genuine smile at her words. “Probably not.”
“Exactly!” Clara said, folding her arms. “I detest having to be the one he’s always angry with because I’m trying to spoil his fun. The trouble is, I’m not; I don’t care how he spends his time or his money; I just don’t want Mr Shambles to get any closer than he already is. He isn’t trustworthy! I know he isn’t.”
Edmund had to admit she was right about that at least. Joshua Shambles was probably the most untrustworthy character her brother would ever come into contact with. Unbeknownst to Clara she had given Edmund information that made his night out more productive than he had expected. Knowing that Joshua had made a friend of the young Baron Glazebrook was very interesting indeed.
“I will try to find your brother, but if he’s behind a locked door and engaged in activities he really would not wish his sister to find out about, I won’t be able to confirm whether he’s here or not,” Edmund said, standing.
“If he’s behind a locked door with a woman, all well and good; I just don’t want him with Mr Shambles!” Clara said with feeling.
Edmund laughed, a real chuckle that rumbled through his body. “Miss Baker, if nothing else, you have brightened my evening, and I hope one day your brother will appreciate what a gem of a sister he has!”
Clara blushed, realising what had caused the laugh. She should be mortified that she had spoken so inappropriately but nonetheless was pleased at Edmund’s words of praise. “Do I accompany you?”
“No. It will be far quicker if I go on my own,” Edmund said, noticing the blush but not increasing it by commenting on her embarrassment. He found her reaction endearing, surprising to a man who usually mocked the foibles of those he came into contact with. “I’ll give you the key to the door. Lock it after I’ve left and don’t open it unless you hear a knock of five times in quick succession.”
“How will you know which person is Charles with everyone wearing masks?” Clara asked.
“I know the names of most of the people who attend here,” Edmund confessed. “People forget that masks don’t cover mannerisms. Although I don’t know him personally I have seen him a time or two, so I doubt he’ll be hard to find.”
“Oh,” Clara said a little deflated. If he could recognise people then surely others could too.
Edmund guessed what had caused her to sag in her seat and, surprising himself further, took pity on her. “Don’t worry. Most will not take the same notice as I; they are intent on enjoyment, not observation.”
Clara did not respond. His words had stirred her curiosity, but the most important emotion she was feeling was relief. This man had probably saved her from ruination and, added to that, he was prepared to seek out Charles. His words soothed the panic that had gripped her.
Edmund stood without offering further consolation; he had acted out of character, but he was no one’s nursemaid. He left the room, and Clara locked the door behind him, resting against the wooden structure. The night was not over, and her nerves were already a frayed mess. Curse Charles!
Edmund questioned his sanity as he walked slowly through the house. He should have just rescued the chit from Baron Preston and sent her on her way. He normally avoided developing anything above the merest acquaintance. Relationships involved putting oneself out, and that went against the grain; yet here he was helping a girl he had only just met. What madness had overtaken him he had no idea, but he shook his head, mocking himself; he was walking through a house of ill-repute looking for a wayward brother who had no wish to be found.
The situation was almost laughable: Edmund helping anyone without there being benefit to himself was unknown. He was only helping with regard to national security because it gave his evenings a little more interest ̶ that and the rebellious streak that had run through him since he was in leading strings; he was unconvinced that it was to any sort of national pride driving him. He blew out his cheeks in frustration; first helping his country, now helping a domineering sister: whatever was next?
*
It was more than half an hour before Clara heard the tapping she had been listening for. She hurriedly opened the door, keeping it partially closed just in case it was not her kind stranger knocking. She let out the breath she had been holding when she saw him and opened the door wider, allowing him access.
She was disappointed to see that he was alone, but she waited until he had locked the door before asking her questions. “He’s not here?”
“He’s not in any of the public areas, but his friend is,” Edmund responded, pouring another drink. It really was dull to be in this type of establishment and sober; one was inclined to see things as cheap and lewd when not inebriated he thought to himself, swallowing the liquid in one gulp.
“Oh, all the risk for nothing!” Clara said exasperated.
Edmund’s mouth twitched. “His friend is here and indicated that your brother is in a private room.”
“Oh. You spoke to Mr Shambles?” Clara asked in surprise. She avoided contact with the man whenever she could.
“Yes, I bought him a drink when he was nursing his bruised pride at losing yet another game of Vingt-et-un,” Edmund responded. Card games were encouraged; Mrs Langtree had to make money somehow, and fleecing drunken men was one of her specialities.
“Probably with Charles’ money!” Clara said through gritted teeth.
“I doubt it would be his own,” Edmund acknowledged. He was revealing no secret by his comment; anyone looking at Joshua could tell the man had little income at his disposal.
“Thank you for your help,” Clara said. “I’m going to stay until Charles emerges, but I cannot trouble you further.”
Edmund rolled his eyes. This was exactly why he did not get involved with people; it was too demanding. “If I leave you now, you will be no better off than when you first walked through the door. You cannot hide here in the hope that you will see your brother. Peeping through the door occasionally is not a sound plan.”
Clara flushed at the fact that the only plan she had been able to come up with had been so easily guessed. “I need to separate him from Mr Shambles,” she insisted. “I will not rest while he is in the company of that man.”
Edmund sighed. “My coach will take you home; you need to leave this establishment.”
“I know I’m sounding ridiculously stubborn, but I need to stay until I can take Charles home.”
“Yes, you do sound ridiculously stubborn,” Edmund said with a growl. “I will return your brother to you
if
you leave now.”
“Would you do that?” Clara asked a little overwhelmed that this stranger was willing to help. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because I’ve lost my mind. There is no other sensible reason,” Edmund replied with derision. “The quicker I can get you out of here, the quicker I can complete what I came here to do.”
Clara flushed again. Of course he was here to also access whatever pleasure Charles was experiencing with the women who were in attendance. A nugget of sadness niggled at her insides; he had seemed such a capable, strong, considerate man that she had managed to ignore the seedy establishment in which she had met him.
“I’m sorry if I’m keeping you from your mistresses,” she said petulantly, unable to stop the inappropriate words from tumbling from her lips. It almost felt as if she had turned into a woman who attended such a den of misdeeds her language had been so base.
Edmund laughed, surprisingly pleased that she was jealous; this was turning out to be one of the strangest nights he had ever experienced. “Not that it is any of your business, but I won’t be indulging tonight or any other night with the ladies who frequent this hell-hole.”
Why did Clara feel relief? She was talking to a man but could not make out his features. His mask was unusual; it covered most of his face. If he was handsome she could not tell, but he had a presence that had made her trust him and, to her shame, had made her want him to be better than the people who frequented the address they were in.
“Why do you visit then?” Clara asked, immediately curious.
“It is not ladylike to ask such personal questions on such a short acquaintance,” Edmund deflected, but was amused that she was inquisitive about what was going on around her even though her mind must have been in turmoil over her brother.
“I may never see you again and, even if I do, I won’t know it is you, so why not ask now?” Clara said with a smile.
Edmund chuckled. “Being impertinent seems to be one of your main characteristics. Now come, we need to get you into my carriage. When we leave this room, follow my lead.”
Clara did not usually take kindly to being given instructions; she was used to being in control, but she was not foolish enough to reject the help being offered and nodded in agreement.
Edmund approached her and wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her against his large frame. Her words were that of a confident young woman, but her slight build made him feel huge against her, making her seem as if she were a precious ornament to be treasured. He suppressed the laugh that threatened to escape when he heard her sharp intake of breath at being held so intimately. He felt no guilt at the intimacy, feeling entitled to having a little pleasure at her blushes after her turning his evening upside down.
They pushed their way through the crowds. The house was far noisier than when Clara had first entered; probably the result of the amount of alcohol being consumed. Clara had no real idea, but she imagined that an orgy in hell could not be much worse than the sights she was seeing. People were to be openly fondling and kissing each other, not caring who saw them.
Clara snuggled closer to Edmund and placed her hand on his body as if needing to feel his solid form for reassurance. Edmund placed his hand over hers and squeezed gently. Even through the material of both their gloves, he could feel the slight tremble in her hand. She acted confident but she was not at ease with her situation. Unusual for him, he was experiencing a feeling to which he was not accustomed; he wanted to reassure her. He was moving as quickly as possible without bringing attention to themselves. He spoke to the footman in the hallway and then gently pulled Clara to the side of the room. There was going to be a few minutes’ delay while his carriage was brought around; they could not risk being exposed; he needed to keep her out of sight as much as possible.
Edmund’s body shielded Clara, and he lifted her chin, trying to make it seem as if they were in a romantic embrace, while talking to her quietly.
“When my carriage arrives, I will place you in it. They will not stop until they take you home; what is your address?”