Intriguing Lady by Leonora Blythe

Roberta,” he fumed. “What has happened to make you change your mind?”
    “Your attitude toward your wife,” she responded quietly. “I think it reflects your general attitude toward all women, and I find it horrifying. Women, Stephen, are not creatures to be used. They are human beings with emotions and feelings every bit as complicated as those of men.”
    “Good heavens, Roberta, I’m not that insensitive. I have probably, in the heat of the moment, overstated my resentment toward my wife. But you must understand that in my joy at seeing you, I cast all caution to the winds.”
    “I don’t think I misunderstood you at all, Stephen. How long would it be before you found me an encumbrance? And then what would you do? Discard me like a lame horse and continue with your life as though nothing had happened?”
    “It wouldn’t be like that, Roberta. I would never tire of you. Never.”
    “Really, Stephen? I don’t believe that for one moment, and neither do you.”
    Before he could reply, she left the room and asked the hovering footman to see Stephen out. As she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, she couldn’t quite believe she had been able to leave him so easily, with so little sorrow. Yet, for the first time since she had broken off her engagement, she felt free of the bonds holding her to him.
    Perhaps when the mystery surrounding Sir Nicholas was cleared up, and she had time to ponder exactly what it was that had triggered her final disgust of Stephen, she wouldn’t feel quite so free.
    But for the moment, she had no time for such reflections. Something Stephen had said had given her an idea as to how she could break the code of the list, and with single-minded determination, she hurried upstairs to study it.

C hapter 9
    The morning after Lady Sefton’s gathering, a frustrated frown creased Sir Nicholas’s brow, and with uncharacteristic sharpness, he cursed Davids roundly for neglecting to have sufficient hot water on hand for his bath.
    His temper had been aroused by the comte’s presence in London, and he knew that unless he was able to make sense very soon of the lists he had stolen, his bad mood would continue. Every day that passed without a solution meant the comte could continue to ingratiate himself into Society. And Sir Nicholas’s temper had not been helped by Roberta’s attitude. She had been far too pleasant toward the comte and now, on reflection, he suspected her behavior had been a deliberate ploy to encourage the dratted Frenchman’s suit. She was playing a very dangerous game, and as yet, he couldn’t fathom what she hoped to gain. Add to that the incident of the paper she had taken from his cabin. What did she want? Another mystery…and a disturbing one.
    “Drat the girl,” he murmured. “All this nonsense could have been avoided if Lord Bromley had been home when we arrived back from France.”
    “Sir Nicholas?” Davids ventured tentatively, wondering what on earth had caused Sir Nicholas to vent his spleen so early in the day. It made him uneasy to see his master so obviously out of sorts. “Sir Nicholas?” he repeated when he realized his master hadn’t heard his first remark.
    “Don’t stand there looking at me as if I had just descended in a hot-air balloon,” Sir Nicholas said irritably. “I was merely commenting to myself that Lord Bromley’s absence from London was ill-timed.”
    “As was Mr. Lambert’s death,” Davids said solemnly. “Such a shock. So totally unexpected. To think he was here for dinner three weeks ago.”
    “Quite so,” Sir Nicholas replied, and threw another crumpled stock onto the already large pile on the floor.
    “Perhaps you would like me to fashion your necktie?” Davids asked. “Your shoulder must be tiring you by now.”
    “I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself, Davids. Oh, very well!” he added as his servant allowed an injured expression to cross his face. “Do what you can with this.”
    Davids deftly folded a