Lady Adair entered the booth. “Wait for me on the sofa.” She gestured to the adjoining salon occupied by a host of young women and their dithering mothers. “Before we return to the ballroom, there is something I want to ask you about Mr Cole.”
Eva groaned inwardly but forced a smile. “Certainly.”
She had no intention of waiting, and every intention of seeking Lord Benham. It was time she stopped hiding. Time she spoke honestly. Time the viscount understood that his licentious actions were partly to blame for the whole dreadful affair.
After scanning the corridor to ensure Mr Cole wasn’t lingering in the shadows, Eva left the retiring salon and quickly hurried to the refreshment room. Lord Benham stood a head taller than most men, and she soon discerned he was not amongst the crowd enjoying claret and conversation. The card room was her next port of call, but he was not seated at the tables where men sought refuge from interfering mamas, either.
There were but a few places left to look.
The young buck leaving the billiard room informed her the viscount wasn’t playing and to his knowledge loathed the game.
Eva stood for a moment and considered her options. Lord Benham would never speak openly about his sister’s predicament. Certainly not to Mr Ashwood. Certainly not where cunning gossips hovered like vultures waiting to scavenge morsels of meat.
And then she spotted the devil glaring at her from an alcove, his arms folded in defiance.
The icy grip of fear chilled her to the bone.
It wasn’t his unpleasant appearance that made her mouth dry and hands shake. It was the callous look in his eyes, the brutal curl of his lips.
He pushed away from the wall—his curt nod a command to follow—and entered the room opposite.
Only a fool would do his bidding. Only a fool would place herself at risk. But she cared about Clara. Guilt’s blade was still embedded in Eva’s chest. Firmly rooted. Deeply painful. Something had to be done about this man who was, without doubt, the cause of her problems.
And so, after waiting a moment until the corridor was clear, she entered Lucifer’s lair.
“Lock the door, Miss Dunn.” Lord Benham’s strict instruction echoed from the dark depths of the room. “I’ll not have anyone stumble upon our tryst.”
Eva swallowed to temper her nerves. She pressed her foot against the door, turned the handle and fiddled with the key, tricking him into believing it was locked.
“This is not a tryst,” she said, whirling round to look for his monstrous silhouette amid the shadows of Lord Newberry’s library. “It’s an attempt at a treaty, an opportunity to form an alliance. After all, we share a common interest.”
“I gave you an opportunity to form an alliance, Miss Dunn. An opportunity you’ve refused at every turn.” His derisive snort turned her stomach. “We have no other common interest.”
Gathering her courage, Eva took a few tentative steps forward. “That’s not true. We both care about Clara.”
Lord Benham ground his teeth. “You permitted your brother to take advantage of a naive girl. Is that how you treat those you care for, Miss Dunn? No doubt you saw it as a means of revenge.”
Eva ignored his cruel taunts. “What have you done with Howard? Is he … is he dead?”
The devil prowled towards her, closing the gap between them. The shadows made his disproportioned features seem more grotesque. “As I told Finlay Cole when he probed me earlier, I’ve not seen the pathetic fop for days. With luck, his creditors have strung him up from Bloody Bridge and spilt his innards.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged. “Do I look like I care?”
No, those black eyes were soulless pits. Pits of nothingness.
“Did you arrange for someone to attack me in the street? Was it revenge for the callous way my brother treated Clara?”
An inscrutable smile formed on the viscount’s lips. He stepped closer, forcing her to shuffle back until her bottom came to rest against Lord Newberry’s imposing desk.
“I can protect you from mindless thugs. I can save you from those who might seek to take advantage of a woman living alone. I shall permit you to see Clara and the child. I’ll give you one last chance to surrender. Surrender yourself to me, and you may make amends.”
Make amends?
Lord Benham was a man of threats and ultimatums. Winning was his only motivation. His power made most women overlook his mean spirit and repulsive countenance. There wasn’t an incentive in the world that could make Eva overlook his callous manner.
“I don’t blame you for hating my brother. I despise him, too.”